Below is a list of things that teachers love about the June school holidays:

* We get to drink as much water as we want. Why? Because our bathroom usage is not limited to 1 minute between classes.

* We get to binge-watch Netflix or Hallmark movies.

* We get to enjoy not listening to learners say our names loudly a million times every day.

* We get to binge-read non-school related things.

* We can go shopping in the middle of the day.

* Sleeping in is a must. The alarm is turned off!

* We get to meet up with other teachers and talk about non-school things.

* Coffee. Drinking hot coffee is a luxury. Who am I kidding - drinking coffee is a luxury - how many times have you forgotten it somewhere, forgotten to drink it, or split it on yourself?

* It gives us a chance to recharge and get ready for the end-of-the-year madness that is sure to arrive.

[Click HERE to enjoy more teacher humour]

You Live With A Teacher When ...

* During the school year, they have two moods: completely exhausted or super stressed.

* During assessment and reporting cycles, you find a lot of reasons to leave the house.

* They continuously refer to their class as “my kids,” but you don’t remember having thirty kids.

* Every time they leave the house in the morning, they take more bags with them than on a moving day.

* When their friends come over, they speak in a secret language using words like Behaviour Plan, IEP, Duty, Supervision, Success Criteria, and Anchor Charts.

* They complain about being unable to go to the washroom during the day - even though they really had to.

* They have not eaten lunch in years.

* Part of your monthly house budget goes to school supplies such as stickers, pens, paper, glue, and art supplies.

* They leave the house looking clean and proper and return covered in dust, chalk, whiteboard marker, pen ink or paint.

If the person you live with matches most of these descriptions, congratulations, you live with a teacher!

[Click HERE to enjoy more teacher humour]

Poem: A women's life

Early in the morning I wake up

I look up in the sky for strength 

I pray to GOD for Guidance

My face is dry and still I cry.

Will I ever be free? Will I feel true love?

My master who once said he loves me

He locked me up, and beats me.

His hands were once gentle 

His actions are unbelievable 

My man my HUSBAND 

Your hands destroyed me

I can't face My family 

I keep looking for sympathy

Our kids are afraid of you 

Your hands have destroyed me

I cook and clean.

I offer you food with a smile, like I'm happy

I wish you could see your heart that your need me 

But everytime you drunk you beat me

Your hands have destroyed me.

I remember the time I met you

You were so fine and handsome

I couldn't believe I'm with you

It was our time 'now or never'

I wish your mother was here

Because now I live with fear

Will I see another day?

Will I again say my prayers?

My master who beats me

My man my HUSBAND 

I can't move freely 

Your presence torments me 

When you walk next to me

You make me feel worthy 

Will you survive without me

Today I leave you

My man MY HUSBAND 

Will I ever miss you? 

[Tuesday, May 17, 2022]

Click HERE for more poems.

Poem: Blue Pen

Israel Xaba, poet in the fitting and

machining workshop

Am I kept by boards

With white chalk 

That they are for me and

What they said make my future. 

That is for what, many had said

I attend a building named HTS

I can't see me in it yet

I attend daily

The yard it's been known as gold

With its people turned blue

Hence I'm in it yet not seen

"the sports are for you" they said

"YOU are the school" they said.

Yet the buildings are made

The school is seen

Many are enslaved 

Like young minds before slavery 

We rushed to be one with dem

Now 'what was one thinking?'

To be thee 'GOLD' in thy

I shall now leave

The blue clothes I'm in

And turn to what I should've been

And attend a place where I'll be seen

[Click HERE for more poems.]

Poem: High school

Growing up.
The next four years start here.
Take a deep breath as you walk through the doors.
Hear the feet pounding the floors.

Eyes are watching, everywhere.
Look at the seniors, we wouldn't dare.
Talk to old friends, the pressure ends there.

Decisions and choices, always in the way.
Affecting your future, day by day.
New things to learn, always a delay.

Stressful schoolwork and pressure to try.
They say always give 110%, but you just ask why?
Overwhelming, bored...you just want to cry.

Sports, pressuring you to do your best.
But you know you will never be as good as the rest.
Everything here is always a test.

They say these years will be the best years of our lives,
but others may think it's just another few years of throwing knives.

So hold onto the memories already made,
because soon it will all fade.

[Published: November 2012 © Nikii]

Source: https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/highschool

[Thank you, Thabo, for sharing this with us.]