Public Education

You shuffle out the classroom door

In your dottering, dithering way

Standing in the sunshine I can see your liquid eyeliner

Sharp as a pencil tip and applied with an unsteady hand

Your son caused a commotion, you say

His hands were shoved down his pants again and it’s inappropriate

He said his hands were cold and I believe him

But, still – I really, I mean I really thought you should know

A hive of second grade commotion buzzes from behind the classroom door

And also, you begin to say

He keeps looping his 2’s when I’ve told him not to

And why is his hair so disorderly?

He looks as though he just pulled a hat from his head

Like he’s fresh off the ski slopes

You know, don’t you, that the kids probably laugh at how unkempt he always looks?

Maybe you should consider a comb

Yesterday I had to mark him wrong because his penmanship on the letter K

Was, well, it was a bit off

You know how important it is that he draws a perfect “V” on the vertical line

And I’m sorry to carry on, but he tends to stare off during whole-class instruction

I’m just not sure that he’s getting it

And I have thirty other students, you know

I just think, you know, I just want you to consider, maybe we could

Have him assessed

Trust me, I really do have his best interests at heart

I just want him to be helped if helping can be had

Such a shame to see a boy struggle

Oh, and thanks for the cookies and brownies you brought in for his 8th birthday

But I really wish you had considered slicing everything in half before you arrived

Uneven numbers, you know

It’s unfair when Lucy gets both a brownie and a Madeline

But Joey only gets one of the two

The sun dips behind a cloud and a shadow yawns across your face

Off you fumble back to your chalkboard

Hunched and stooped and frail and petty

The classroom swallows you whole like the whale swallows Gepetto

And I hope, with all my heart, that it never spits you out