Usually, I do not write poems that rhyme. They are more difficult for me–constraining. But I wrote this one for a student I had when I was teaching high school in WA State.

Anika was a teen-ager when we met, but she had already lived through a difficult time, and in some ways she was very grown up. There was anger and resentment boiling inside her; that was obvious from the beginning. Her tone and her stares could send chills down my spine. And oh! she could be so stubborn. At first I was nervous about how to be her teacher. English class isn’t all that exciting to some kids. But there was a vulnerability to her–a crack–an opening for me. I took the chance.

As it turned out, we worked well together; she would sometimes bring a friend and eat lunch in my room while I was busy working through my own lunch. She would often use one of the computers in my room to work on her German class homework and sometimes she would file papers for me instead of going straight home after school.

Anika did not enjoy reading all the novels I taught to my tenth graders. I know she didn’t read at home, but she usually engaged enough in class to get by. Though it wasn’t easy for either of us, we got through that year with a large measure of success, and she went on to graduate from high school two years later.

Anika was in recovery (alcohol) when she started 10th grade in my class. As a recovering alcoholic myself, I had an immediate connection to her. And so it was that when she celebrated her first anniversary of sobriety, I took her and three of her friends to dinner, and we attended her AA meeting that night. She stood in front of the audience with such grace. Standing so tall and straight, her smile and laughter filled the room, lifting our spirits.

She has had the courage to remain sober for seven years now (I think it’s seven), is married and her Facebook posts show her to be a happy young woman. The occasional message she sends fills me with hope that she will continue to learn and grow into the adult she wants to be. This poem is for Anika.

 

How do we learn

Our predilections?

Choices and turns

All those directions.

 

Searing through cracks

Into the spirit.

Though life attacks,

We must not fear it.

 

Greeting each day,

Embracing our lives,

Crafting the way,

Our happiness thrives.

 

Problems arise,

Answers will surface.

Seek the surprise

For our lives’ purpose.

 

Winning or lose,

Memory traces.

First seize our muse,

For pain it erases.

 

Writing the scene,

Not falling apart.

Calm and serene,

Embracing our hearts.