It seems fitting that my very first post for Pearson Impressions is also my last as the magazine's faculty supervisor, and the last one for the school year's final issue. I originally wrote this poem about a year ago, and kept it fairly close to the heart while it percolated. I then revised it after this year's slam poetry team took home the gold at the Victorious Voices Spoken Word Festival. I dedicate this poem to that team, but also to all the incredible writers that have contributed to the magazine over the last four years. Thank you for everything!
How do you travel thousands of kilometers
from home to go to school,
and then do it again
to teach at another school?
How do you only see your parents
a couple times a year,
and then still feel so connected to them,
and everything they taught you?
How do you look out at Pedder Bay,
see the sun reflect off the splash of a seal,
and then go back to work at a desk
that looks out over the water?
How do you go paddling on the ocean
twenty minutes after waking up,
and then discuss geopolitics
with someone whose homeland has been invaded?
How do you share a meal with six students
from as many different continents,
and then place dividers on the table
to setup for their exam?
How do you cry
through the last minutes of a performance,
hug those who made it,
and then go home to do laundry?
How do you celebrate
the end of a two year journey,
go your separate way,
and then start again after the summer?
Well, if you're me,
you do it by sitting down in the library
to ask a bunch of questions,
and then, slowly,
you come to realize:
the answers are the people all around you.
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