Starting School - Jessie Fuller
/Starting School
Words - Jessie Fuller
You run through the bubbles to your classroom
And you don’t look back
I feel the tears run down my hot face
And long for your little warm hand
Safely holding mine
3.15 is when I’ll see you again
But for now it’s just past 9.
I walk across the playground
Which is still full of noise
People saying ‘Good luck’
‘You’ll be fine’ and ‘don’t be scared’
It feels like you’re off to war
And the parents are left on the shore
Only this is a different war
The war of the system.
F**k the system I think
A sudden anger makes me blink
Whoever made up the rules
Who said children have to go to school
So young and for so many years
I wipe away the rush of tears.
We don’t need no education
We don’t need no thought control
Pink Floyd shouts loudly in my head
Update the system, I think loudly
This one is old and soon to be dead.
You’re in a class of 30
And a year group of 90
With 6 teaching staff
And you’re 4 years old
How is that possible
Will all the parents do as they’re told
Rules are there to be broken, I think,
I let my imagination unfold.
I want to book a trip away for us
Anywhere really, I’m not fussed
Can the teachers ask me why
You’re not 5 until July
Could you be part time
Or shall I home educate
And give up my job
We could go away in our van
Live in the moment, do whatever we can.
But am I thinking of you or me
You who went off so happily
You who loves learning
Who is surrounded by friends
But you are still so young
So innocent and small
Although you do a good job
Of looking older because you’re tall
But you still call a bridge a fridge
You like to take your clothes off and be free
You think the grass gets dizzy when we drive by it
You call Wallabies Wobbilies
You say udder for other
You say you have a fast forward duvet cover
When you mean reversible
And it kind of makes sense.
I notice my tears still there
I see the learning mentor who I sort of know
I try to wave and say hello
But I cry and can’t seem to stop
And she gives me a reassuring hug
I leave a wet tear mark on her shoulder
I try to wipe it off as I hold her.
So off I go to work and off you go to school
I’m left with my thoughts of what to do
And all I can think about is you
And the hug when I see you again
When we meet at your classroom door
That is all I am waiting for.
Bio:
After 2 years of deliberating how to go about having a baby with no partner, I made the decision to go ahead on my own. I went to a clinic and decided on a donor. Poetry became my therapy and helped me stay connected to reality even in moments of despair and helplessness. In humour I found sanity. My poems communicate the daily rollercoaster of raising a child solo. My day job is a Child and Young Person’s Therapist and Senior Practitioner in a local domestic abuse charity. I work with survivors between the ages of 6-18 years old and support them in overcoming their traumatic experiences and find hope in their everyday struggles with reality.
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