“For A Senior” Jason Kohls

“For A Senior”

Jason Kohls

“Why do we have to do this?”

The question echoes, the volume and tone slightly different,

But the sentiment always the same.

It might be grammar,

Essay or reading

Research or revision,

Quadratic equations or governing precepts.

“Why do we have to to do this?”

I ask myself the same thing,

Not because you didn’t get it,

But because you didn’t listen.

“We had this in fourth grade,”

I heard one voice

Not even trying to hide under his breath

As I explain a simple grammar rule.

“And yet you still don’t understand.”

That could bounce off the walls,

But it won’t,

Even though we want it to,

We -

The kid in front who got it in the fourth grade,

And the boy in the back who caught on in sixth,

And the girl in the hoodie who quit doodling long enough in seventh to deposit the concept in her memory.

I introduced a new poetry unit with my seniors.

Five weeks left,

So let’s try something new,

Something different,

Something creative.

“Why do we have to do this?”

He mutters as the boy behind him inserts earbuds and listens

To a rapper who attempts to craft images as skillfully

As the ones we will hear in class,

Sometimes dropping verbal bombs that burst through the eardrum and invade the mind,

Sometimes lobbing lines that die in the ear channel like wax needing to be flushed away.

I want to scream,

“We do this so you can listen,

And think,

And write!”

I want to burst out,

“We do this

Because that kid in back,

The one who hands his writing to the teacher because if he reads it out loud you will poke fun,

Is openly engaged,

Because that one in the front who does her homework without prodding

Might find a connection,

Because that little one over there with a notebook full of scribblings, but a gradebook full of zeros,

Needs to be heard once in a while too.”

I want to say,

“We are doing this for the ones who one day might answer your question of

‘Why do I have to do this?’

With “You will do it because it needs to be done,

I am your boss, and I have assigned it to you.

So shut up and finish your task so the project can move forward.”   

But I don’t scream.

I don’t raise my voice,

Because the one in the back,

The little one with the notebook,

The girl in the hoodie,

Others scattered about the room

Are already listening, and always have been,

But you never will.