Words

Silence is power,
But words are powerful.

Something happened to me once
That changed my life forever.
It was in the fifth grade,
Because everything worth mentioning
Happened the year you were eleven.
But, more importantly, something happened.

A teacher called me out of class
To discuss my scholastic performance.
You see, I was a straight A student,
With enough star-studded stickers to prove it.
In light of my out-of-this-world grades,
I was being considered for
The Gifted and Talented Program.

Anyone who was anyone was in that program.
Well, anyone who valued
Fraction flash cards over
Plastic Pokémon cards, that is.

The teacher stood before me,
Reluctance resting in her rhetoric.
“We believe you’re very smart,” she explained
Before I had time to misunderstand.
“But you’re just not gifted.”

Oh.

How nice of her to set me straight
Before I became another one of those
Dreamers.

That was me.
The kid that gave it his all
But just wasn’t a natural.
I was the kid
Who believed you could do
Anything you set your mind to.
I was the idiot
Who thought his future
Depended on his effort.

But then life happened.
I woke up.
No talent.
No dream.
No purpose.

They say that kids are becoming more mature
As time passes.
I don’t agree.
I think kids have to become more mature
As time passes.

Parents have an effect.
Media has an effect.
Celebrities have an effect.
Friends have an effect.
Peers have an effect.
And I know,
Teachers have an effect.

Lies have an effect.
Sneers have an effect.
Compliments have an effect.
Prayers have an effect.
Critiques have an effect.
And I know,
Words have an effect.

What if no one had ever given you limits?
What would you be doing?
Where would you be going?
How would you be living?
What would you be saying?
Think about it.

Our voices are like paint brushes
Coloring the world.
Our words are like the strokes,
Back and forth.
When we use a little too much paint,
We try to correct it with a little more.
But it never works.
If we had only stopped
A little sooner.

Bite your tongue.
Grab your lip.
Sew your mouth.

Words are powerful,
But how much more
Would they be
If we used them less?

I can’t say it better
Than my Sunday school teacher.
“If you can’t say anything nice,
Don’t say anything at all.”
Word.

“Sticks and stones” psychology is a lie.

Of course, I would be lying
If I told you I was worse off
After I was rejected from the program.

That teacher’s words have stuck with me –
A stale, crusty chip sitting on my shoulder.
But, secretly, I’m glad it’s still there.
I don’t want to brush it off.
You see, those words are the only thing
Pushing me forward.
Those words are like a scale
That I use to measure my success.
Those words remind me
Of why I can’t stop writing.
Those words are powerful,
But apparently I’m stronger.

This poem is but an archer’s bow,
Shooting words at you like arrows.
That teacher’s words were a miss.
She was lucky.
I was lucky.

I’m not telling you to stop speaking.
You may need to do the opposite.
Just know your power.
As Spiderman’s uncle once said,
“With great power comes great responsibility.”
Even superheroes have to be careful,
And that says a lot to a fifth grade kid.

Now, what do you say?