I am

This week I had an assignment for class.  I am ashamed to say I scoffed at it.  To understand why, I need to explain that the past 6 months I have been writing lengthy papers about educational theory and connecting it to the classroom.  That seems to make sense when pursuing a masters degree in education.  So when the first assignment for my spring semester course was to:

 write a poem that starts with "I am"

I was a bit shocked.  I was a bit confused.  I reread the syllabus and made sure I wasn't missing the analysis part or the essay accompaniment for the poem.  That was it, just what you read above- write a poem that starts with "I am...". So tonite we sat in class and waited as nervous hands of graduate students that spend their whole day speaking in front of audiences slowly volunteered their voices and I am poems were recited.  It was great.  Every one was different and I learned so much about my classmates.  And it was enlightening and applicable and easy- well except for that bit of nerve-building needed to raise my hand:

I am a spot on a small blue dot.  In a sea, I am a single drop.  I flow over the  falls and am gone.  I am hopeful to make it to a teacup, be swallowed, and, later, sweated out on a dance floor in the basement of a tall building.  I am a thirty one year old student. I am learning. Everyday, after I am done learning, I am a drowsy face on a sofa watching sports highlites. I am a husband.  A good one, most days, some days, most days.  I am calmed by the arms of my wife and the paws of my dog.  I am on mountain tops in North Carolina. I am on a bus heading west, I am clenching my lips trying to keep the Delaware shore out.  I am a riff in a prog rock opus.  I am the upbeat, the augment, the off key.  I am outside the spotlight.  I am backstage, eating hummus, wishing I had clean socks.  I am putting on a sweater to save on the oil bill. I am cancelling the cable to read more. I am eating in. I am avoiding the dentist.  I am still buying good beer.  I am a night porter.  I clock in when everyone is asleep and clock out as they are awaking.  I make the coffee for them.  I enjoy the night.  I am a son.  I can do no wrong. I am not as smart as my parents, and need to quit acting like it.  I am a suburban farm boy.  I am not suburban, I am not a farm boy.  I am good at NBA Jam. I am a dog person.  I never truly understood cats, but still enjoy when they curl up on my stomach.  I wish I knew my way around Philadelphia better. I am a grid-city kind of guy.  I can figure out Manhattan.  I am Jon and I have a sneaker fetish. I have spent upwards of hours online ordering sneakers then usually erasing the order.  I am the type of person that stares at the ceiling and wonders what other people think about.  I am looking at the ceiling wondering if other people are the types of people that stare at the ceiling and wonder what other people think about.  I am totally fine with anything.  I am the last person you want to pick a restaurant.  I am engrossed by the stars. I am most engrossed in remote lands when the stars reach down to the horizon.  I look up and see billions of sparks flickering from light years away.  I am a spot on a small blue dot.