TheStoryUnfolding222633394623
Solicitiously . . . things ‘are-a-thinking-a-me’ . . . .
Presently, there proceeds within my being a ‘process-of-complete-remorse’ for that which is being currently done to the beautiful innocense of the children.
And . . . although (at a ‘once-upon-a-time’ period) I had once assumed the ‘being-duties’ of that which you call ‘Teacher’ (and treasured the experiencing with Love and no reget). . . it appears–for certain–that I happenstanced upon a different place in Time to discover that all that I once held near-and-dear was lost into the fleeting ethers when the grand politicized drums came pounding.
At first . . . I came to notice the small (but shifty) changes being brought about by all the noises sounding from the political pulpits of those who ‘say-they-care’. But . . . a ‘care’ of re-election is truly all I ever heard. And . . . the two-faces of a politician are always clear in view for those who truly ‘see’.
Gradually . . . THAT, which was once so cherished became so tortured and abused that I could barely ‘see’ the valuable I had once ‘seen’ into its Cause. And . . .I was forced to ask the question: Why?
But . . . whenever I dared to ask this question (throughout this entired Life), all I heard re-sounding was: Because THAT’S THE WAY IT IS.
Of course, my only response to this most mechanical-reactive-reply (as if, I only had to push a button) could only be resolved within my ‘being experiencing’ in a totally formless ‘Ohmmmmmmm’. (But . . . that’s ‘THE WAY IT IS’ insofar as I AM concerned)
But . . . the ‘drums’ continued beating (only louder) this time. So loud had they become that all the wonderful (if not spell-binding) creative arts were thrown out and cleared of the rooms where we all once learned and played. And . . . this was due to all the ‘violent vibrations’ of the ‘drums’ shaking the Cause of ‘sand-castles’ and the spirits of tiny hands once designed to pat them down. For this new Cause was (indeed) an entirely different ‘game’.
And (once again). . . I was forced to ask the question: Why?
But . . .when the answer came back as the same (THIS-IS-JUST-THE-WAY-IT-IS!) . . . I noticed ‘a something’ flicker.
Louder and Louder the ‘drums’ did bang until everything that once held a ‘me’ interested in my ‘being-duties’ of that which you call ‘Teacher’, were no longer to be found (not in mySelf, not in the teacheredSelf, but especially not in the childrenSelf).
The ‘little Ones’ had given up their crayons, and their paste, and their stars, and their popcicle sticks, and their sprinklies, and their clay, and their cartwheels, and their somersaults, and their song, and (the very worst of all) . . . I saw them beginning to give up their laughter.
And . . . the flame began to dim.
Now . . . the reason behind all this ‘giving up’ appeared to be (No! It Was!) a proficiency test score on a State initiated test! Holy Machined Reality!
“Look!” “Look!” “Mommy! Daddy!” “Look what I made!” “An 83%!” “Can we tape this onto the refrigerator!” “. . . along with all of my other proficient leveled scores?” “Wow!”
And mommie said . . . “Aren’t they beautiful!” “Soon we will have a whole data bank to archive all your precious years you spent testing throughout the entirety of your well-spent Elementary School Days!”
And daddy said . . . “Let’s all go out and do something special to celebrate!”
And little Susie said . . . “I know! I Know! Let’s all go out and take another test!”
And . . . then, I noticed . . . the flame had gone out.
Currently . . . there proceeds within my being a ‘process-of-complete-remorse’ for that which is being done to beautiful and innocense children. And . . . an ache is ‘felt’ within my ‘being-experiencing’.
For truly . . . instead of bringing out the wonderment and the joy and the very Cause and Fruit of Being Manifest, the beautiful and innocense is being processed through a very powerful conditioning ‘tool’ , which simply continues to churn up and spit out the ‘new-and-improved-models’ of ‘the human machine’, who (by the way and thanks to the present adoption forcing the agenda of all the incessant testing) not only have all the right answers, but the corrected ones as well.
And from this . . . you are expecting a bright future?
March 1st, 2010 at 2:44 am
I liked it. So much useful material. I read with great interest. (Hello again, Ko’boob’no)
March 13th, 2010 at 11:06 am
The very sad reality of the state of public education…why I left and why my children are no longer a participant in the insanity. Our fridge is covered with orignal masterpieces of art, poems, letters, love notes and our daily dinner celebrations usually end with a performance of song, dance, & music arranged for Daddie and Mommie by our brilliant precious children. In our little world the light shines brightly and our hope is that more and more homes will find this kind of joy! Mystic Rose…what a gifted writer you are! Thank you for sharing your thoughts and inspiring all to reflect and think.