The student news site of Lyme-Old Lyme High School

An Ode to Our Teachers

February 8, 2017

Students come and go in high school—that is the way things are. A school population is completely different every four years, as only our teachers know best. They are the fixtures in this system. For five, ten, twenty, thirty years they watch these batches of learners pass. They know that the seniors aren’t really “taller this year.” They know that the freshman class isn’t really worse than usual. They have the big picture.

But every once in a while, we, the students, have to watch a teacher go.

 


Mr. Piantaggini

You made a language into a game

And we played it all the time

We drew and researched and acted

We wrote and spoke and signed

In a language thousands of years old

Somehow it felt modern

It was tangible, moldable

You told us when you dreamt in Latin

And we hoped we could get there, too, one day

So we kept at it

Gained experience points

And when we just couldn’t get it

You labored to make the game anew

Because you had to do it alone

Because you were doing it differently

And you inspired me

And I wondered whether I could be as good a teacher as you

Some day


Mr. Mortali

Let us go into the woods

Up the hill, and back down

And we’ll close our eyes

And think of symbols in our lives

Just like Thoreau

And when we get back to the classroom

We’ll see Walden Pond on the page

And we’ll feel his tranquility

We read the greats: Plath, Dickinson, Poe

He gave us a blank page

And he told us to write a poem

And he believed we could

And we did

And at the end of the year

As we were leaving for summer

He handed us a packet of all our work

For us to remember

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