I walk into the small, rundown brick building,
following the principal down the narrow hall,
right then left, through curtains of dusty air
until we get to the tiny, dimly lit classroom.

I look around at the bareness in surprise,
the white paint on the walls peels and
the blue carpet has dark stains.
hundreds of abused desks are scattered around.

The few books, on the otherwise bare shelves, are broken.
Paper airplanes are thrown across the room
as I walk in and find the extra desk at the front,
putting down my bag I turn to see my new class.

Everyone is dressed in holey, mismatched clothes
with matted hair and dirt smeared faces.
While I am wearing my favorite green dress
with my freshly washed hair pulled back in a braid.

I grab the small piece of chalk from the black board and
write my name large, like I have been taught.
I turn back to the class, take a deep breath and say,
“Good morning class, I’m your new teacher”