On Friday, May 1, the staff at MCS received their required training on the administration of the CST. In the spirit of unity and mutual support, Coach Ron performed the following poem. It was a great start to the weekend and to the beginning of our two weeks of testing.
Sooo…
this week I happened to see the sacred tests arrive…
And no jive,
Ms. Maureen had two secret service agents walking steady by her side…
No lie.
I’m pretty sure one of them had a new silver mustache
and he was guarding that test like it was Mueller cash….
And the other,
well the other walked with a purpose hard to describe but hey,
I’ll try.
See, by chance I saw this in just a moment’s glance…
Both eyes
seemed focused on the prize
and though it’s hard to describe…
they revealed a mix of characteristics…
(Now, everyone easy as I get in these licks…)
See it was clear he had the compassion of Old Papa Smurf
watching over his little turf…
And yet
there was the stern attitude of Notre Dame’s fighting Irish, “slash”,
a little Mr. Miagi, “slash”,
the Pedagogy of Paulo Friere,
and of course the never tiring force of his strength…
Not found in the sun, and surely not in the hair,
like that of Sampson…
Umm, yes sir almost done.
But instead, in the strength that we send
and lend
with every moment and every message bent around young listening minds…
Young Listening Minds…
Let’s keep this in mind…
Yuh know I’ve heard the kids can sense our stress
and the mess
that often becomes the small details of this test.
Like making sure our pencils are sharp… but apparently not too sharp,
or making sure that when we read the directions
we follow the directions,
like flipping the script and reading word for word…
…like a mocking bird.
Geeze…
last I heard those long directions
always reminded me of those last words before lethal injections!
And what about our attempt at nervous pregame connections:
“Keep your focus,
trust your mind,
make sure yuh read each and every line,
don’t forget to take your time,
and don’t yuh worry, your set and prime…
Everything is guna be just fine!”
(I think I need a soda and lime!)
And for all my peers who whisper in my ears
this one is for your sighs, whys,
held back cries
as you all pry
every piece of paper from your classroom walls
until our rooms resemble old and cold bathroom stalls!
But wait!
I think even bathroom stalls have … words on the walls…
And of course a small verse for the terrible things our support staff will be facing;
Apparently, you will be erasing
the scribble marks, happy faces, doodles, disgruntled statements, and drool
found around the 4 corners of the white borders…
I don’t know why!? Please don’t shoot the messenger.
Wow is it a mess in here? Nah, I just liked the way in which it added to the rhyme…
So, lets get out the grumbles and moans,
cause our kids are coming to bubble and own… every answer,
daylight dancers,
moving in forward motions,
they’ll be the one’s settling commotion
with fluid motions of their writing sticks, candle wicks in dark places,
leaving traces of “El Milagro” in the streets,
and the drum beats
of our hearts…
Yes, this is the part where we all prepare and stare into the heart of things…
And before we go any further I just wanna ask you all
to take away any worry that may have found its way to your face
and try to keep pace
with what I’m really saying.
You see we are the ones who have been quietly laying between doubt and fear,
steering young minds with dedicated time
and passion.
We ration hope and cope with each question,
life lessons extending beyond what they score, whether strong or poor…
Each child is at the core of me at the core of we…
See up until now we’ve done all we can. Taken our stand,
trying to find the balance between a united common purpose,
a united common goal,
and evening strolls with our own families…
Damn we! Sacrifice
deal with head lice,
give advice,
and at times we ask it.
The task is demanding…
And despite this all, we are all still here standing
with a similar vision of resiliency and hope for our young people…
So, as I wrap up this simple rhyme
I hope you all take time
to celebrate
NOT, the manner in which you have dealt with your worry and stress
but instead yours and their…
un-measurable success….
Bless…
Written and performed by Ron Dyste.
