Indian Writing

A Teacher’s Poem

By Lisa Lauritzen.

I am a New York City public high school teacher
Do not look surprised.
Do not feel sorry for me.
Do not pity me.
Do not offer me your condolences.
Do not pat me on the back, shake my hand,
Cross yourself or speak of my bravery.
Do not ask me if I receive combat pay
Or wear a bulletproof vest.
Do not ask me when I plan to get a real job,
Apply to law school,
Or what my first career choice was.
Do not assume my head is in the clouds
And I have no grasp on reality.
Do not sympathize, empathize,
Or tell me about the job opening in your cousin’s business.
Do not suggest that I join the Peace Corps.
Do not ask if my parents were teachers.
Do not ask if my parents were hippies.
Do not assume that I am a saint, naive, innocent,
Searching for my childhood,
Living for summers off,
Home by 2:15,
Use a red pen,
Play the Lotto,
Wish for the glory days of the past
Or would rather teach in the suburbs where I could *really* teach….

U.R.Ananthamurthy in Rujuvathu:

It is necessary to understand what is stagnant and what is dynamic in the present-day religious system. The people who do understand are those who participate in movements against ‘untouchability’; in struggles for equality and equal respect to all human beings; who desire equality between countries; who believe that animals, birds and plants have as much right to live in this world as we do; and who believe that all these struggles are interconnected.