Poetic Intervention By Lakesha Pickering Ahem. Hello? Is everybody listening? Is my mic loud enough? I hope I‘ve got your full attention My name is Lakesha Pickering; I’m a teacher with good intentions, and I wrote a little something to kick off this convention The title of this piece is poetic intervention Before we get into this session, I’d like to relieve some of this tension Because it may just be apprehension that I’m sensing But some of you are looking at me with just a little condescension Like a masters degree and my social position are sources of dissension As if I know nothing about your life; I couldn’t possibly comprehend it; well, let that be your first and only misconception See, you might hear an accent if you pay close attention I’m from Queens, NY, where gangs are the rule, not the exception Where crime lords rule, and my family name bought me some protection I was fifteen years old when I had my first gang interaction I went to a project party without my parent’s permission I was dancing with my cousin when these dudes just started flexing Something in the corner of my eye made me glance in a mirror’s reflection I peeped the muzzle flare as I heard the shots and made the connection I remember thinking, “No sixteen candles for me,” as I contemplated my funeral procession Thank God my father and my uncle had heard the commotion and stepped in I still remember when I realized I was alive because of their reputation They had fought the tough battles; they didn’t want the same life for their children It didn’t take many words that night; we didn’t need an intervention bullets flying in my direction had taught me a valuable lesson I had a life to live, and I owed it to my parents to be all that they’d envisioned And so I worked my butt off to be the first in my family to conquer the educational system To graduate from college and to strive towards my ambitions To impact as many lives as I can in the time that I’ve been given, To be a blessing to these children has become my number one mission So, for now I’m a teacher, no it’s not for the pension It’s not for the money, either; it’s not a particularly lucrative profession There are different kinds of stacks... mine are essays that need correction And I know it seems sweet to have the summers free, but listen two months without a paycheck isn’t as fun as you’d envision Plus, we need some time away from these children so we can miss them Yes, I love my students, that’s why I assign detention If I didn’t hold them accountable, they’d just get caught up in the system And so I fight for them by sharing a little of my wisdom The lesson plan may call it grammar, but MY goal is to give them More than just the bare minimum Of a cookie-cutter curriculum To teach them to read, write, listen, and how to speak with conviction To use the unique voice that they’ve specifically been given To remind us that they’re here and that their future hasn’t yet been written To make it so that the world can’t just underhandedly stick them Somewhere in a corner and conveniently forget them To prove that no matter what they’ve been told they do not have a genetic predisposition That being born into poverty is not a medically treatable condition I’m not in this for fame, for fortune, or recognition I’m trying to keep these boys and girls in school and out of prison I want their memories of chalk to be from a blackboard and not a foe’s outline I’m trying to teach them how to analyze literary symbols instead of throwing up gang signs, I wanna ensure that they never end up on The First 48 or Dateline Real talk? I don’t want any of my kids to have to say that they served time Confined behind bars for any percent of their lives I don’t want images ingrained in my mind of parents burying their children’s bodies in the ground instead of tucking them in at bedtime I want to see my student’s names scribed on a diploma, not a headstone or in some tragic headline So this is more than just a job to me; it’s my birthright Still, when it comes to teaching, I’m nothing if not professional On evaluations by my principals, I’ve been identified as exceptional I’m often working after hours to make my lessons somewhat digestible I guess keeping millennials engaged in reading and writing in the digital age is quite impressive, huh? Exceptional I bet it’s because I decorate my beige cinder block walls, so we can pretend they don’t resemble The jail where my mom worked when she was a New York City Correctional Officer because, sometimes, let’s face it, the difference is imperceptible Didn’t the Supreme Court rule that separate is by its very nature inequitable? Yet which kids are more likely to end up in a gang, if we get statistical: The ones with small class sizes, and resources state of the art and plentiful? Or the kids in packed classrooms with ten year old textbooks and no windows? I guess that’s why it irks me when people act like teachers are expendable We’re on the front lines fighting battles waged upon us in some congressional Hearing where it’s decided what new red tape… I mean, assessments we’ve gotta get through To prove that our schools are worthy of the funding our kids need to be successful I’m neither typical nor conventional, So, if I offend you, that’s not my intention... But is it too much to ask that we start talking about prevention? Confession? I am a god-fearing, hardcore praying Christian. But faith without works is as dead as a turkey on Thanksgiving. God has heard our prayers; he says now is the time for OUR intercession! We need to find out what our children need, what it is that they’re missing To shut our mouths, open our minds, and for once actually listen. It’s time to put our heads together, time to ask the difficult questions. Like How do we get these kids to pick up a book instead of a weapon? How do we get them to grip a pencil instead of the trigger on a glock? How do we get them to push themselves instead of poison on the block? How do we prove that there’s no shame in punching in and out on a time clock? How can we stress that they don’t have to climb on the bodies of the fallen to get to the top? That they don’t have to clap back when when of their homies gets fatally shot? How do we get the gang violence in our community to come to a complete stop? How do we prove that it’s not too late for them safely stray away from the flock? How do we convince them that they already possess the keys to open the lock? Can we really justify this in a nation that insists on closing schools and building cell blocks? Where second chances don’t come easy because on every application they have to check that one box? How can they prove they’re rehabilitated if we don’t give them at least one shot? We need to validate their worth and prove that they‘re our most valuable stock That investing in them is our noblest pursuit The return on our investment will be more than even NASDAQ could compute The only mutual fund we should have interest in securing is the preservation of our youth Because they’re more than just a file, a number on an orange jumpsuit As we push them to pass tests that determine their academic aptitude We have to remember that it’s what’s not on the test, that really matters, dude Like having empathy and gratitude, controlling our tempers and attitudes, Finding out our purpose, and that our lives can have magnitude How do we teach them that the most important lesson is how to seek their own truths Come on, can we really assess “critical thinking” on “standardized tests” in public schools? Here’s a math problem for you: What are the dividends in a nation divided? Over 1 million Americans in gangs in 50 states that proclaim to be united Did your jaw drop when you heard that number? I know mine did! And since more than 40% of them are under 18… we’ve forfeit our right to remain silent Because the fact of the matter is: gangs equal violence And who exactly stands to profit when our future is in laying in the streets, dying? Their criminal activities add tension to an already volatile climate People are scared to walk around their neighborhood at night when They can barely sleep in peace without being woken up by gunshots or sirens Gangs are subtracting from our population; we’re losing kids to death and confinement They’re on a path of death and destruction; they desperately need our guidance! We’ve got to get them to see their value and teach them to multiply it Rebuild our communities so we’re honored to be products of our environment Am I the only one who’s willing to acknowledge the #elephantintheroom? That, right this very moment, in a neighborhood near you, you, and you gangs are using social media to actively pursue kids who are angry, lonely, scared, and confused Concepts like loyalty and brotherhood are being used to recruit To target kids that have been failed, neglected, ignored, and abused. How do we keep our children from being seduced When sex, money, and drugs are glorified in music streaming through their bluetooth? Let’s be honest; it doesn’t make things any easier when the news Is constantly condemning public servants like teachers and the men and women in blue It’s cultivating a generation of citizens who hate law enforcement and school, Perpetuating a cycle of incarceration and failure; we need to regroup. This may not be the stock market, but we can trade in old habits and bid on something new Stop thinking in terms of profit margins and revenues Because the losses can’t be calculated in dollars, yen, euros, or rubles We’re gambling with our people’s lives, here. What are we gonna do? Cut the bull or grab it by the horns? It’s time for us to choose! If we don’t each buy a share in this cross to bear, won’t we ALL lose?
