62/365 Learning to Snap

Today in my classroom
I made a 13 year old girl cry
And it felt
Good
It was exactly the response I'd hoped for
And she deserved it
She asked for exactly what she got
And I'll do it again tomorrow
I think she even said, "please"
And if she didn't
I'm sure she meant to.
She's one of the good ones.
They're all good ones
The kind of kids
Who will walk into a science class
And proudly announce to their teacher
"We all did our homework today, 100%."
Today they held me to my end of our bargain,
These kids.
"Come on, Mr. C.  Give us a poem."
So I thought of the one
That would best tug at the heart strings
Took a deep breath
You could hear a pin drop.
In three years teaching this same group of kids
I have never once heard it so quiet.
Until three weeks ago,
I can't remember
When they all did their homework on time,
Even the kid who has to sit in the front row.

I spoke the first line slowly,
With intention
Glared at the one kid in the back row
Who interrupted my poem yesterday.
Today, he held his tongue.
I spun an image in their minds,
Slow and quiet,
Paused, just enough to get them thinking
Burst through the last stanza
Delivered the last line in a whisper.

The language arts teacher next door
Has told them you don't applaud
For a poem.
The room erupts in 19 pair of snaps.

"Mr. Clauss," the girl says,
"I told you not to make me cry!"
"That was so good, though."

I promised her the next one will be funny,
That I've got one in mind.
I do.  It will also make her cry.
Then realized I can't perform that poem for 8th grade ears.
It mentions God.
And that one mentions sex
And another one is too political,
Another is too intense,
And I wait for the inevitable phone calls
From concerned parents
Who hear that their kid's science teacher
Is wasting three whole minutes
Of instructional time telling children poems
About his adorable kids
Or his dead father in law
They will demand to know why.

I am prepared for this
Science teachers are all about data.
When I am called into the principal's office
To have "the chat"
To defend my pedagogy
I will bring my grade book,
Open it to the last two years
Of incomplete homework
Show how that one kid
In the front row
Didn't do a lick of science work
For months last fall

Then I'll open to September, 2012
Covered in check marks
Done, done, done.
Tell her,
"This is what a 3-minute poem can do."
And when I do this
I only hope she knows enough
To snap.