Spoken Poetry About Teachers Day の小説・ストーリー

Besides, I tried to convince myself might actually like it here. The school anthem was over and the students took their seats. Mary Thompson, smiling, walked up to the microphone. “A lovely morning to you students.” Everyone chorused. “Good morning Ms. Thompson.” “I see you are dressed smartly in your uniforms and I can’t express how happy that makes me. I am once again reminded of how much I love this job. Taking care of you kids and shaping you to become the future leaders of nations is the best reward any educator could ever ask for.”

"Or bridges you can walk over later." In back of her, a teacher stapled a sign onto the lintel: Listening is our first structure. Speaking makes it stand. It wasn't a clause, but it was turning into a proverb. --- 4:26 PM — West Distribution Alley, Beside a Vendor's Cart Steam rose from a kettle where root ginger steeped. A peddler poured tea into recycled bottles as he hummed a lullaby. The melody had no specific source—half lullaby, half chant, half oral poem.

Well, it wasn’t new to receive one or two such notes. Layla was going through the proposals sent by students for the upcoming event making sure that every content would be appropriate. And the president, Ryan was typing his speech that he would deliver on 5th October. For many years, the school celebrates the teacher’s day on the very same day allowing students to express their gratitude to teachers who worked hard every day for them and with them. The program is held for half of their school time. “Initial list of voluntaries is ready,” Lani informed as she joined Zou Haoran to check the sample videos sent by some students who had already finalized their performances. “I have classified nam

I’m letting my nerves get the best of me. I swallow thickly, and notice I’m trembling. I am not a teacher. And seeing as I’m not a teacher, I am certainly not prepared to teach 40 students who already hate me for stealing a position in the department. "So, um, the writer who worked under this realm that you would probably recognize first is Edgar Allan Poe. Faulkner is another–" My words are cut off by the sound of large, double doors clicking as they open. Harlan stands at the top of the classroom.

I do my best Liam Neeson impression and it has her in a fit of giggles. “OKAY, class, and what do we say at the end of the day?” I ask as a sea of smiling children raise their hands and say with me, “We are grateful for the day!” “And for you!” Daisy adds on with a big smile, several other students joining her. “Thank you all so much. I am so grateful for each of you and I love being your teacher. Are you all going to have a great weekend?” “Yes!” they cheer. “Does anyone want to share their weekend plans?” Several hands shoot sky-high.

Ryder murmured beside me, his lips barely moving. “I am,” I whispered back through clenched teeth. “Not to her. To me.” I froze. Heat crawled up my neck, shame and anger twisting in my chest. I didn’t dare look at him. The teacher’s voice droned on about themes and metaphors, her tone steady, patient. Around me, students scribbled notes, some whispering quietly when they thought she wasn’t watching. For them, this was just another class. For me, it was torture.

With a sense of authority and enthusiasm, they began to announce the program of the field trip, outlining the day's activities and objectives. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the field trip! Today, we have a fantastic lineup of exhibits and interactive activities planned for you," one of the teachers announced, their voice filled with excitement and encouragement. The students leaned in eagerly, their eyes bright with curiosity and eagerness to delve into the day's adventures. The teachers detailed the schedule, highlighting key attractions and points of interest that the students would have the opportunity to explore. From guided tours of educational exhibits to hands-on workshops and int

Cressida's pov The morning class was surprisingly peaceful. Master Theron was absent and a substitute had taken his place. She was young and kind and her voice was soft and her smile was warm. She did not drone on about the Great Purge or the betrayal of the wolves or the burning of the witches. She talked about poetry and the power of words and the way a single sentence could change everything. The room was warm and the light was soft and the tension that had been pressing on my chest for weeks eased just a little.

The way she had let her hand run along his shoulder, stopping on his chest before his eyes met mine sent something unholy running through me… Walking through the school walls, loud music blasting, colored lights dancing, bodies pressed against each other, I decided that after the opening speech, I could take a moment in my office to get away from the organized chaos. I stood with other teachers on the stage as Edward addressed the students, pleading that they be in their best behaviour and not do anything to warrant the institution from completely wiping off the ceremony. The silence was commendable considering these students can be hot headed sometimes. “Ms. Smith” Edward called out from th

and I got a standing ovation and my boyfriend proudly came up to me and hugged me and said it was a great speech my princess can be a candidate you win in the first one and kissed me, - uuurru we parted my congratulations my dear you always surprised me always smart and your place will always be yours here, - I know Dona Micheli, I know more about my intention and to go to the classroom and not stay on four walls, even when I return you will be the director of this school if it depends on me and if you want to and of course, - of course, I will want- well now let's meet the teachers, - let's goI meet everyone else, she said two teachers were missing, the physics and chemistry teacher was for