“I think it’s crucial that we remember the lives of people, not their deaths. Our deaths are not our lives.”
Ross Gay
Lori Hoevener, Ph.D., grew up in Seymour, Indiana. For many years, she taught English at Bloomington H.S. North. Much of her poetry centers on these two aspects of her life: growing up in rural Indiana and working with high school students. Her poem “Writing” recently appeared in The Ryder magazine.
Welcome to the Poets Weave, I'm Romayne Rubinas Dorsey. Lori, what poems have you brought for us today?
These poems arise from my career as an English teacher. All names and locations have been changed.
The List
I wanted so much for you….
Elijah, Joseph, Kelly, James, Kadeem, Zeke….
The faces I still see of my former students
Gone long before their time.
Drug overdoses and suicides
Is there much difference between the two?
I can’t blame you for wanting to leave
Our world is such a thorough mess.
Blasted through the windshield, Zeke
A needle stuck in your arm, James
Elijah, you were hanging from the ceiling
In your college apartment
When your roommate found you
Coming home after class.
But those details don’t really matter.
I can still picture you, Kelly, bent intently over your journal
Your long blonde bangs nearly touching the page
It was my very first year of teaching.
Elijah, your bright-eyed smile is with me still
The sun shone warmly through the window behind you
Few other students read Shakespeare so well.
And Zeke, you smiled up at me
When I reminded the class
Of the flimsy nature
Of the material world.
I wish I could have protected you
And all that I saw in you.
Our world would be so much better with you still in it.
Eclipsed
But I can still see you
Not the disheveled man in front of me
Mumbling and muttering a “God Bless You”
To anyone who walks by
(Might you have recognized me?)
But the undamaged boy you were
At age fourteen
Those light-filled green eyes
Illuminating your mocha skin.
You were such a natural leader.
I’ll always remember your passionate words about South African apartheid,
And how you spoke with great empathy of your African brothers and sisters,
And your bright eagerness to write poetry one chilly morning
When I took the class outside for inspiration.
The future was a distant dream.
I know that boy is still in there.
Who will bring you back to yourself?
Kasey
“Tell your students to do their homework so they don’t have to work at Taco Bell…”
Those dull eyes stared painfully past me as she spoke these words,
Standing ready to take my order at the counter.
The inescapable knowledge of living
So far beneath her potential.
The years reveal the fruits of our decisions.
School seemed so pointless at the time.
I was such a terribly serious English teacher,
Bewildered by the forces opposing success.
Seeing her potential
And the potential distractions
Coaxing her to do homework, while her friends mocked us both.
In the end, she feared a friendless future.
I just wanted a good life for her.
You've been listening to the poetry of Lori Hoevener on the Poets Weave, I'm Romayne Rubinas Dorsey.
