Untitled poetic prose

Category: /Poetic Prose/

"Today is a day of struggle, of manifestation, but beforehand, I really wanted to understand why we didn't make this paralysis before? Our points were taken away, many facts were changed at GDAE, professors every day upset, humiliated, and our governor, who says he is not a politician, another businessman, ended up harming many teachers. It is incoherent to everything I have lived through in my 31 years of profession as a teacher. It is even more difficult for us readapted teachers, who are now without the right to such a permanent allowance, because it is complicated, then, why don't they take the help of a jacket or another of our governors. Why do they take the helicopter and never the urban transport?
It is difficult to accept such a situation.
But many colleagues from the interior voted for João Doria, and now what?
We are living a political disunity, I keep thinking, we all had our daily struggle to be teachers, we chose this profession, and all students from other professions pass through us.
Even if it is a gift to hold on to 40 students, even more so in our technological time, where we still have chalk and eraser, the situation becomes complex.
We are rapidly aging, we are exhausted by the contempt of the rulers and even of society, have you seen my colleague who was beaten by a mother, or by another colleague who was unfortunately raped, where are the human rights to help them?
Yes, I am readapted, I got sick working, that is, I lost my voice, I got aphonic and dysphonic for a year, and sometimes having to give messages in classrooms, unfortunately I can't pass in 5 classrooms, speaking for five minutes, I already lose my voice. And, me and many of the people readapted, we worked hard. And I see that we are sacrificed by everyone, as if we wanted to get sick.
How to fight with this policy of São Paulo, authoritarian, dictatorial and that ends up harming all of us. Not to mention the organizing agents, G.O.E.'s and other employees who seem that we are not composed of the same divine DNA.
Today is a day of struggle, as I won't be able to go to the Republic, because my ankle is still sore after I fell off the school's stairs on September 17th, I fight for writing, I ask my friends poets, writers, teachers, teachers to support us to get to our leaders.
I am not unionized, but I fight like one, I want more value for us teachers, because all of us to teach today are linked to the advances of our disciplines, I even being readapted, I try to see the changes in the Chemistry Discipline, and improve a little every day.
I ask out of kindness that our leaders, here in São Paulo, and in Brazil, that we may be valued, with decent salaries and have, at least we readapted teachers have back the permanence allowance, yes we are needed, yes we need to live, pay bills, and still have children, yes we need, like any other teacher or employee of SEESP, we need support from everyone, from managers, teachers in general, or do you think I got sick because I wanted? Let us be more united, and fight for a better education for our students, remembering that we have children, and if we want the best for our children, we want the best for our students.
Today is a day of struggle, against all the unviable proposals of various governments, and it strikes us at the time of retirement.
Not to mention that many of our colleagues suffer in silence, like my friend Eleni, and we know the situation in which she lives, we are all equal. We need the support of society and of everyone, who understands our position, we are not nannies, not undeserving them, because no nannies have forty children/adolescents in their care.
We are teachers, we transmit Knowledge, because education is you father, you are mother and other family members, who educate their children, go to school, unfortunately when they lose the aid of the family scholarship, or to do like the mother who hit her colleague in a school.
We need to be supported in order to have a better and fairer world."
Teacher and Writer Téka Castro
São Paulo, October 9, 2019. 8am and 26min.
Written on the face.

Translated with

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