Evaluations

Recently I have been re-evaluating life. It is interesting what can cause these moments of thinking, "Wow, is this actually my life? Is this a dream?" Sometimes these are good moments, sometimes not so good. I was in a car accident last Wednesday. I know, just when I thought nothing else could happen it did. It wasn't my fault, but pain and time must be re-evaluated when they come like that. I missed school today. There is still something in me that feels guilty everytime I miss school. That young student who hates how much she is sick comes out in me and I feel like I have broken some rule. Being on the other side of the missing of school now--I am the teacher--I try to show compassion on my students. UVU has become a matter of some scrutiny lately as the numbers of those infected by the H1N1 virus, or the "swivy" as my friends call it, increase. With a compromised immune system I have to take extra precautions to not get ill. Everyday there is some update from the CDC (center for disease control) about what we should and should not be doing, how we are to handle sick students, and sick teachers, and when an outbreak becomes a pandemic, etc. I feel like I am reading letters from the First Presidency over the pulpit. The irony then is that though 32 of my students have the swivey and the paranoia is increasing, I miss school because I was rear-ended and my head may explode. Hmm . . . it has gotten me thinking, and reading poetry again. I found two poems that remind me of life right now.

Did I Miss Anything by Tom Wayman

Nothing. When we realized you weren't here
we sat with our hands folded on our desks
in silence, for the full two hours

Everything, I gave an exam worth
40 percent of the grade for this term
and assigned some reading due today
on which I'm about to hand out a quiz
worth 50 percent

Nothing. None of the content of this course
has value or meaning
Take as many days off as you like:
any activities we undertake as a class
I assure you will not matter either to you or me
and are without purpose

Everything. A few minutes after we began last time
a shaft of light suddenly descended and an angel
or other heavenly being appeared
and revealed to us what each woman or man must do
to attain dvine wisdom in this life and
the hereafter
This is the last time the class will meet
before we bring the good news to all people
on earth

Nothing. When you are not present
how could something signficant occur?

Everything. Contained in this classroom
is a microcosm of human experience
assembled for you to query and examine and ponder
This is not the only place such an opportunity has been
Gathered

but it was one place
And you weren't here




Lines by Martha Collins

Draw a line. Write a line. There.
Stay in line, hold the line, a glance
between the lines is fine but don't
turn corners, cross, cut in, go over
or out, between two points of no
return's a line of flight, between
two points of view's a line of vision.
But a line of thought is rarely
straight, an open line's no party
line, however fine your point.
A line of fire communicates, but drop
your weapons and drop your line,
consider the shortest distance from x
to y, let x be me, let y be you.