Bryson Tiller‘s Don’t comes to mind today in this classroom of upperclassmen.
I remember them when they were in their previous grades, when don’t was more than someone caught up in their feelings.
Conversations about holes and keys, lost in transition (as I remind them that this is Throwback Thursday. The conversations bring up two of R. Kelly’s hits: You Remind Me of Something and Ignition. Two throwbacks that possibly made their parents throw it back and create them through Bump and Grind).
I play a playlist of instrumentals as they are the lyrics of the moment.
It seems counterintuitive that the lyrics from this class (although well-behaved and well mannered) stress the narrative of the Bryson Tiller’s song.
- A student (wearing primary, secondary, and tertiary colors) in red and brown (with orange shorts and Christmas themed undies; for tis his season to be naughty) taking self-portraits of himself to put on the Snap (abbreviation for Snapchat).
- Another set of students playing games on their phones (One of them doesn’t even like one of the games that they are playing, but he is with a friend; the same one that speaks of keys and holes as he seemingly sucks at 8 ball while calling out another while being just as bad as them).
Don’t play with her, don’t be dishonest (Aye)
Still not understanding this logic (Aye)
This expectation is to be expected in the primary teacher’s absence; the activity of play while trying to keep oneself from doing work that one doesn’t want to do (hence the term; don’t).
They don’t want to do this.
But they must.
And they do.
Even when they don’t.
(Except one, because Christmas came early with his chestnuts hidden by bright and early layers that I’d rather wish not to see. Dude is sagging like cake layers, cake baking on the Snap!)
Much like the acronym thot, a contradiction has just as much premise as holes is to “o‘s”.
A comma condenses and combines conjunctions, conjoining intuitive action into conviction.
(Like a belt used to keep one’s pants on their waist)
And like a game of pool, disjunction has its place in playing either solid or striped colors.
Ornamented in green and red.
Covered in orange.
Brown pants too.
As the 8 ball in the corner of an entire classroom of students that have turned in their assignments, I wonder if the young elf realizes that good behavior and classwork attempted count more than one or the other.
But elves like him have their Bald Kelly phase.
When bad grades put their work ethic on lock.
At that point, bruh becomes sir.
And don’t becomes do.
And my duty is done.