from the archives...how many drinks is enough?
how much more trash do i need to view before teevee is unwatchable?
how many more dudes must i push around the rugby field to prove myself?
how many hunchbacks must i create as the result on my manly scrummaging?
who am i proving myself to besides myself and what still unproven hypothesis still needs to be turned into a proof?
what dramatic turn of events comes next in this exciting life and why?
when opportunity meets preparation some view it as luck....
when lack of preparation meets pseudo opportunity you have my life...
time to prepare...
for what? for who?
what is the perfect end result....
the fog clears on a ride to work in the hood
the person who taught me to teach was filled with a missionary zeal
she stayed late, was mean to the "ignorant ghetto children" she taught and they ate it up
it was said she could teach a rock to read, and she by any means neccessaried them, keeping them 2 hrs after school, having pre-dawn tutoring sessions...
she was the terminator of teaching
she took her responsibilities very seriously as a church going woman and was saving lives
thats when i started to question my motives for teaching
summers off, a 6 hour work day, work 186 days a year, benefits
you earn those great perks
in the time tremiteacher grew up people had more respect for the profession
school wasnt free
school was something that was fought for, slaves that could read were killed for the mos part
the southern radical underground taught them to read
that was a great fight
you mouthed off to the teacher youd get it from the school, and when you got home get a second dose, and maybe a third dose from grandpa or some other village elder
it was also a time where lynchigs happened to the uppityest of negroes
so i tried to access my negro grandma as a discipline strategy
i had mxed results
by the time i would explain the dynamic, their eyes would already be glazed over
"dont make me turn into cranky gramma on you now chile
now be a good boy and fetch grannies jug and teefus
or go out behind the outhouse and cut yesself a switch
jess down come back empty handed, ya hear?"
"NOW GIT, an doan cummback widdout somefin in yo hand"