I am a teacher. But not really.
Yes I do teach, but what is teaching?
Does it happen when kids in uniforms listen?
Is it still teaching if no one listens?
I teach history. But not really either.
I tell them of things in the past, but also of things yet to come.
I tell them of Gandhi and Soekarno,
but also that one day they'll be the leaders.
I'm a storyteller, a fact rambler,
The old uncle that talks about the same thing again and again.
I am Siri, I am Google Maps,
I am Wikipedia,
and sometimes I'm just clueless.
But I'm also an artist, a coach, a writer.
I'm a question asker, and a problem solver.
I'm a motivator, a realist,
one that tells them to dreams,
and other times bring them back to earth.
I'm the one who offers them help,
but also the one to tell them to walk on their own.
I'm a slave driver, and also a slave.
I'm a clerk, a driver, a cameraman, an emcee.
I plan events, arrange chairs, do backdrops, fiddle with sound systems.
I'm the repairman, the rat catcher, the snake killer, the food for mosquitoes.
I'm the one who stays up all night,
Setting exams and grading homework,
The one watching them while they sleep in tents,
The one tending to their bruises and wounds,
The one who wraps their sprained ankles.
The one shouting at them when they run too slow,
The one telling them "Not good enough" when they win gold.
I'm an unstoppable force in class,
An immovable object too.
Or maybe that's what I think I am.
Maybe I'm just blowing my own horn.
I wear many hats,
but my head is not just a hat rack.
My brain, your brain, our brains.
Our nation's greatest resource.
For such a time as this,
Gathered here, we are.
Our nation's future,
Forever changed by your dedication.
And the journey has only just begun.
Whatever we choose tomorrow,
It will not be for us.
It will be for the nation.
It will be your legacy,
Your footprint, etched in history.
