Cleaning out an old bag, I found a poem I wrote in a fit of frustration a couple of years ago. I’ve never been a classroom teacher; always, I’ve been a specials teacher or librarian. It amuses me how teachers perceive these support positions.
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When I was named the techie–
And my credentials were quite few,
I heard a teacher say,
“I wish I had all day
With nothing much to do.”
The day the kindergarten graduated,
I plugged the camera in, and then,
Someone came and wanted something
And then someone else again…
Three doors and two computers later,
I returned to dreadful news;
The camera had timed out
Deleting those kindergarten views.
Printer ink in the work room exploded;
Scholastic Inventory program was down.
The teacher asked, but I “interrupted class”–
I think I’m leaving town!
Uh-oh–teacher meeting minutes;
Email with notes of things to do…
Eighth grade is setting up for Thursday,
They are graduating, too.
My room has two doors;
Folks keep passing through.
Half of them are wanting something,
The others stop to schmooze–
Wish I had all day,
With nothing much to do.
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