One of Twelve Hundred

I am void of a decent education.

We are failing because they have failed us.

I am one of twelve hundred.

At the PTA meeting only 20 parents show

They are not concerned.

Thus, their children sit idle.

We do not want to learn.

We are as if prisoners. Trapped.

On the doors remain locks

And yes they’re chained tight.

This is to “protect” us

The school system’s idea of “safety,”

But I am not safe

I do not believe in this institution.

I do not believe in this system.

I do not believe in me.

I am a product of my environment.

I am a product of these barren grounds.

The nature of this school is said to reflect its social location,

It does.

It is desolate and forlorn.

I am thirsty for knowledge,

But my thirst remains unquenched.

I am waiting.

For change

For something better

For a school where gangs do not freely roam the halls

Where books are available for each student

Where the walls are painted neatly

And not vandalized by all

Just waiting

I question my community

My city

Each local official,

And every school board member

I am fighting alone.

I am fighting to be heard.

I am one of twelve hundred,

And I am fighting to be heard.

Resources are scarce.

They promise things will get better.

I can no longer rely on the hopes of “what will”.

I am seeking to grab a hold of what is now.

I am one of twelve hundred.

I am fighting to be heard.

It is poverty that hinders me from maximizing my potential.

We are simply not provided with the best,

Instead we are instructed to make do

And you question my reading ability

And you inquire about my inability to analyze and interpret mathematical equations

Well I question my teacher’s certification,

And I question the values of the public school system

I am one of twelve hundred,

And I can only advance once my voice is heard.