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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2005131
My first experience of teaching
As I stood at the front of the classroom 

With a pen and a shaky hand

My face felt funny and my legs were numb 

Thinking twice about wanting to stand.

The intros began with a fevered grin 

And a guiding hand to the chairs 

The silence corrosive, breaking me down 

Not knowing how to survive the stares.

I began with pictures that linked to me 

Hoping for student cohesion 

I was witnessing discombobbled mouths 

Speaking complex words from their region.

The slowing clock said two minutes had passed 

Puzzled, how would I fill the gap?

I should impress them with my new Russian 

Maybe then I would get a huge clap.

Ditching the pictures I partnered them up 

Persuading their curious minds

To seek out unique things within themselves 

Something I was struggling to find.

This idea became a small victory 

The room at once full of chatter 

Admittedly, it wasn’t all English 

To me, this didn’t really matter.

They disclosed their motivation to learn 

And explored their family tree 

Proud of the words they could already speak 

Showing their skills off for all to see.

The end of class and my feelings had changed

New senses made me feel alive

I learnt something quirky about myself 

That in the future, will help me thrive.



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