The Wrong, and (hopefully) How to Cure It


Hopelessness does not rear its ugly head at a scheduled time in the day.

It is not strong enough to break through your constant focus and determination, as you scurry between desks answering popcorning questions, puncture an office referral “insubordination and disruptive behavior” with irritated half-sentences, belly-laugh at the ridiculous unexpected joke that rings through the room during 3rd block.

It is patient, it waits for a pause, a moment of weakness, a waver in consciousness, and suddenly the tears rise over the banks, your heart lurches, and you are overcome with the wrong —

The wrong in the world, as I look at the 58% average of the girl who has been absent 2 days of every 5 because she has to babysit her siblings —

The wrong, as I listen to the faked indifference of Student L, as she slides in a comment, desperate eyes, about boiling…

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