Michelle Hudson - First Utterings

First Utterings

by

Michelle D. Hudson

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PUBLISHED BY:

Michelle D. Hudson on Smashwords

First Utterings

Copyright © 2010 by Michelle D. Hudson

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work. All material is the original work of Michelle D. Hudson.

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Dedication

First Utterings is dedicated to my parents, Marion and Alvin. In their own ways, my parents encouraged me to live beyond the measure of other people’s expectations. Even in death, their love and support comfort me.

This ebook is also dedicated to the people who visit my blog and motivate me to write when I lack confidence and cannot find the precise words. It is through their comments, critiques, and advice that I take the first step to sharing my work with a broader audience. I am eternally grateful for their correspondences via Twitter. Therefore, I extend heartfelt and sincere thanks to: Florence Iyinnbo, Liz Mnari, Khakjaan Wessington, Emmett Wheatfall, Steven M. Grant, Nevone Blount, Theron Kennedy, Evelyn N. Alfred, and Kerryanne Layne. Never underestimate the depth of your kind words.

I thank each of you but, above all, I thank God for every blessing and every adversary.

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First Utterings

A Ballad for My Students

It may seem corny or even creepy

But I have loved you since I first saw your name

Printed on white paper.

Permanently etched in my mind:

Henrietta Jones, Erin Plasiance, Maya Jones,

Christopher Holloway, Justin Jack, Kierra Hart --

The list is infinite.

Even when your names escape my tongue,

Your prepubescent faces remain.

Stained upon my heart. Unchanged by time.

There is just something about a teacher's students.

Once assigned to a specific class,

The teacher in me quickly searches for your potential,

Which I am confident exists.

Offering an earnest, clean slate

I beseech you,

Whoever you were last year -- for better or for worse --

Is no more.

The door is open.

And open to more than learning.

Take advantage of this opportunity to be whom you envision.

To be the person you desire. To simply

Be

Yourself.

And when you are ready,

Ready to be more than your mind can comprehend,

Ready to allow God to work in your lives,

I will be there as your teacher.

In the sacred space of the classroom,

Where I am entrusted with your futures.

I invite you to reach for greatness, for

There is just something about a teacher's students.

Letter of Comfort

Dear Youth,

Thought I'd drop a line

to let you know you've got time.

So many cares cast upon lack.

Never fulfilled, you worry that you're fat

or unattractive or dumb.

Persecuted by every thought, your life becomes humdrum --

the same old routine.

Doubt. Want. Envy. Where's your self-esteem?

Your will to live rather than sit still?

Don't tell me you're going to permit this kill!

Don't you know you're all you need

to succeed

and soar beyond your wildest dreams?

You've lost your way or so it seems.

Luckily, you can change your fate in an instant.

Start by relying on the One that the Father sent --

Jesus the Redeemer. He only asks that you believe

for the things of this world you shall one day leave.

As temporary as the flesh,

this life is but a test.

So, right now I challenge you

to be bold, self-assured, and among the few

to scoff at mediocrity and sloth.

Baby, you're a boss!

More than that,

As you are, you're all that.

Love always,

Your Conscious

The Task

Twenty-four here.

Seventeen three times a day.

Thirteen there.

Highest in rank; least in number: a mighty eight they say.

In sum, I am charged with sixty-three souls.

Responsible for educating them,

But it always goes beyond books to setting goals.

Teaching them to stand on God’s word. To trust Him.

A daunting task indeed.

Each child a blank slate.

Oh, but so great is the need!

How does one fill a hollow vessel? Find the precise bait?

Soon-to-be doctors, lawyers, athletes, and actors are among the brood.

Potential sparkles in their eyes,

Yet resolve and drive are limited and crude.

Deficient in desire but wroth in attitude.

Yes, children are the future,

But they are ignorant of their past.

Brawny in faith, I know nurture can overcome nature.

Though the forecast is bleak, I am up for the task.

The callous child wants freedom to accept love.

The seemingly dull-witted student blossoms with independence:

A chance to do-it-by-myself rather than be handled with kid gloves;

An opportunity to develop worth; to know one’s substance.

However, it is not easy; that is, the path to success.

I’ve raised my voice in anger and diminished in esteem.

Feeling desperate when sincerity becomes cheesy.

Heightening my frustration and lowering their self-esteem.

Luckily, it is never too late to start anew.

The rising sun blots out despair,

Giving us another chance to win. To be true

Sirens of Christ’s love ... to clear the air.

In teaching, the teacher is a student always.

Discovering that learning is not about reading, ‘riting, and ‘rithmetic alone.

It’s about valuing a person, not parting ways.

Assuring him or her that the classroom is everyone’s home.

Our Fear

There is something perversely unjust about sending

children into the world. Away from the

loving gaze of our watchful eyes. Estranged

from our protective embrace. For we know,

that no one can love our babies as

unconditionally as we do. We

fear that even at school – the one place that

should be a second home – our kids will be

neglected. Abused, devalued, dismissed.

We expect our precious children to

learn the ABC’s and 123’s. To

use “arboreous” in a sentence and

quote extensively from The Bill of Rights .

We want this – all of this – even if we

know that our children speak too loudly.

Repeat themselves until acknowledged. Write

letters backwards while looking directly

at them. We want more for our children.

Though they pronounce the silent “k” in "knife"

or learn better by tapping or standing.

Unable to sit quietly with feet

on the floor and eyes facing straight-ahead.

We want ... No, we demand nothing less than

the very best from our children’s schools.

Second to parents and sometimes in place

of us, children seek the love and safety

believed to be the foundation of schools.

Willingly, children hug teachers. Laugh at

jokes they do not grasp. Ignore remarks that

weaken the spirit and rob the soul. Yes,

there is something perversely unjust about sending

children into the world. Compromising

their humanity and their dignity.

Freshmen Year

Richard – the College Student

descendant of an African tribe