S.T.I.C.S Poets – Classroom

Welcome to my classroom,
welcome to a room filled with the future,
welcome to a room filled with kids playing hide and go seek with the truth, – some are dyslexic but they still manage to read the truth,

Books aren’t used here because books
aren’t updated,
Derogatory terms to isolate minority groups are read here,

Teachers ask their kids not to curs,
so they don’t – verbally,
You would think they’re at a fancy university how they transcribe the cusses they can’t utter onto books next to the teachers name,

What a shame,
What a failure – what a day,
Don’t put all of your eggs in one basket I believe they say,
what a game,

Tuesday is choose day,
So choose to carpe diem they claim,
But how can you choose something you don’t know exists if you can’t even spot a new color out of the spectrum’s frame?

So welcome to my classroom,
welcome to a room that never got to see the future because creativity was never prioritized,

Commandments are scribbled on walls for students to submit to,
YOU SHALL treat each other with respect!
But never is respect explained?
Misunderstood with a word called ‘fear’ so just as teachers try to get them to respect their ways kids want the same respect from their peers,

I mean fear,
I mean teachers want their kids to show them respect,
I see how they fear,

if you aren’t quiet in my class I’ll call your parents, throw you out of my classroom, make sure you get a bad grade!
…I see fear,

The child lost the hope he thought he had,
They do what teachers do –  not what they say,

The irony of kids wearing caps with a label that says ‘obey’,
Not lead, not question, not gratitude
we’re in class right now so where’s the lesson?

Where’s the knowledge about stopping kids from harassing one another – strange,
instead of finding ways to move the victims in between – grades?

2013 young teens aren’t always as happy as they may seem,
Social pressure is at its highest,
Vegetarians imitating duck faces
With, bathroom selfies

Double mirror reflections
reflecting a very sad destructive generation who base their whole selfasteam on how many people like them,

I don’t mean like – like them
I mean like click now I know you like them, more and more pictures are taken in bathrooms,
I guess – you’re – just- like -them,

welcome to my classroom,
Welcome to a bomb shelter for the bullied,
he fears having his clothes soaked under the shower once again during gymclass so he,
hides a pair of torn jeans and t.shirt in the bathroom to avoid having to walk home naked once again,

little do they teach how democracy was just for the chosen few,
So, for the outkasts there wasn’t really much to do,

Today thinking back we say ‘why didn’t those two bullied kids  join forces and just hang out with each other?’

So now I ask you as you are older and wiser,
Would you expect two widows to just hang out with each other?

Welcome to my classroom,
Welcome to a space in-between four walls where,
Geography books are passed around but not all kids can point out which country they’re from,

they’re too young to have I.d cards
But not too young to have identity issues,
(point) that guy at the back? waiting for an assault charge,
(point) that girl? waiting for her cousin to come out of prison,
(point) this guy? waiting for that cute
Girl to walk by the glass window so he can send her a smile that he knows she’ll never respond to,

You see,
all these kids have other things to think of than what’s being explained on the white board,

us teachers act like we never sat where they’re sitting,
they say those who can – do,
Those whom can’t – teach,

so I stand here infront of you with all odds against me,
So let me take this time to teach you something,

…welcome to my classroom,
Welcome right into an empty room that could have been filled with the future,
But didn’t,

They left school,
Because us teachers left them.