There were five buckets scattered, yet strategically placed, through the upstairs hallway. As I made my way from one end to the other, these obstacles reminded me of the bumpers of a pinball machine that would "ding" every time a steel ball would make contact with them. I was the steel ball, but I wasn't trying to score points. I was simply on my way to a classroom to substitute for the teacher who would be gone for the day. The buckets contained a blonde ale-colored substance, and if this were a brewery, that would be fine, but it's a school, and the liquid was dirty water from a leaky roof.
Growing up, my school district consisted of six buildings; two of them remain and the others are gone. The leak-buckets were an unwanted reminder of the destruction of my childhood home away from home. I can only hope that a leaky roof is not an indication of the same kind of outcome for the school building where I sub. After all, being retired from teaching doesn't mean I've quit. I still care. I still want the best for the kids who count on the grown-ups to take good care of them. Without an adequate building, how can that happen? Truth is, this winter has been hard on structures everywhere, and I'm sure the one I was in last Wednesday is solid. Experience has shown me, though, that no matter how much I have come to care about a place, others may not feel the same way, and even if they do, the lack of funds usually results in the death of a beloved building. If you've ever looked upon the vacant land where your school once thrived, you know how that feels. Personally, it makes me hope my memory never fails me as I tuck the stories and images of "Remember when..." away until I need to visit them. Needless to say, after a day of walking around buckets, I took Memory Lane all the way home.
To purchase an e-book of my poem, "Like Sea Glass", complete with pictures, for $1.99, go to http://store.blurb.com/ebooks/460074-like-sea-glass-its-journey-and-ours . (There are 38 pages, with a free 11-page preview.)
No comments:
Post a Comment