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In Praise of the Invisible Warrior 


Never once did my pain feel like an inconvenience 

something to be left at the classroom door, ignored, 

or made into an extraordinary thing


You welcomed me with caring bright 

green eyes from across the room 

as if saying I understand and you are safe here 

a space you created for all of us to just be: 

children learning about science 


Before today, I saw you through ten-year-old eyes 

when I became your student and entered class time

however I needed—in a wheelchair, clutching a walker,

carried to and from classrooms by my father 


Before I, myself, knew that you knew 

what it felt like to smile 

through an abounding 

bone-deep-ache

what it takes to show up 

day after day

in a body on rebellion 

nobody can see, except


You did see me  

and how I never saw your pain 

is my mystery to keep, though


Today, I am only here 

to say thank you 

for seeing me then 

and letting me see you, now


My retired fifth grade teacher

a fellow warrior 

my friend


I look back and all along 

you were simply guiding us 

to approach in kindness

and fairness the unsolvable 

life-altering equation of becoming



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