She wrote her name in chalk across a board once bare
And then she sat behind her desk, without a single care
And for fifteen minutes, she did not make a sound
Until the last student had finally settled down
Then she stood before them, and told them all her name
And then politely asked each student to do the same
Then without hesitation, she took papers from a stack
And placed them in two piles; one white, the other black
And deliberately quite slowly, with a slight mischievious smile
She began handing out the papers up and down each aisle
And once each student had a piece, she continued within their sights
To gather two piles of crayons; one black, the other white
And then she took a painting from behind her walnut desk
Then placed a painter's smock overtop her navy dress
And to no one in particular, she spoke in peaceful tones
"I've been working on this painting now for years in my own
home."
She stood staring at the painting; its brilliant colors mixed as one
Upon a vast horizon was the presence of a sun
It indeed was not a Rembrandt, or Van Gogh to say the least
But it nonetheless was beautiful; its presence spoke of peace
And no doubt that lovely painting had taken so much time
For every color known to man seemed to intertwine
And so it came with wonder what they witnessed with surprise
The act that took them all off guard done right before their eyes
With some paints now gathered and opened on her desk
She smeared the colors upon her hands in an entangled awful mess
And then as though she'd lost her mind, she smeared her hands across
The painting once so beautiful...now a total loss
It did not make a bit of sense, they did not understand
As they sat and watched their teacher wipe the paints from off her hands
And then she took the crayons and went up and down the rows
And handed to each student the colors that she chose
"Now," she told her students, "I want you to create
A picture filled with beauty, devoid of any hate."
Mouths dropped open widely; mumbles filled the room
And students looked to one another as unasked questions seemed to loom
For the students with white paper were given crayons of the same shade
And the students with black crayons had been given a raven-colored page
And how could one create splendor with no colors to mix and match?
The students were quite certain that their teacher had left out most the of
facts
"Teacher," a student's voice was heard, "I'm not so
sure I can"
Staring at the white crayon and white paper in her hand
Silence overtook the room; it eerily crept about
Causing the teacher's gentle voice to erupt into a shout
"You each share the same problem; you each possess the power to
resolve
But only the students with open minds will have the ability to solve."
Minutes ticked away; class was nearing to an end
And not one single student knew quite how to begin
And when the bell rang out and they hurried to their feet
Their teacher told them commandingly to return back to their seats
“Before you leave this classroom, I think you each should know
For this assignment you receive a failing grade, for you have no work to
show
And tomorrow and the next day your assignment shall be the same
And those who fail my class will have only themselves to blame.”
The next day and the following, students weren't quite sure what to do
Until at last a solution began to surface through
When one student with his crayon and paper both in black
Turned to the student behind him and asked, “May I borrow that?”
The student hesitated, but then gave up his crayon made of white
And ultimately the assignment no longer seemed a plight
For students all throughout the class switched crayons up and down the
aisles
And certain that they’d found the solution at last, their faces lit with
smiles
And just as every student began to draw across an empty page
The teacher whom they’d all began to see certainly quite strange
Collected all the pages and crayons without a single mark
And then she spoke aloud, “Thank you for bringing hope into my heart
You see I wanted you to realize that in order to create
A picture filled with beauty, devoid of any hate
You needed first to recognize that a problem did exist
And that practical solution could be found within your midst
And that racism is a problem each of us must face
Working all as one before it’s much too late
And with open eyes and open hearts, we must see the person, not the color of
their skin
And come to the understanding that racism has to end
For together we are family; we all cry tears, we all feel pain
And though we may not look the part, that’s exactly what we do
For crayons are just colors; that’s all our skin is, too.”
Students looked about the room, a variety of colors on their skin
As the point that she was trying to make began to settle in
The looks upon their faces readily explained
That they each were trying to contemplate that indeed, they were the same
A nervous shuffling of papers, and coughs throughout the room
Portraying the vital image that fighting over crayons was a stupid thing to
do
It was then each student realized the purpose of crayons and papers the same
shade
Was to prove they each needed the other color to help fill their empty page
Silence seized the moment as one student raised her open hand
And then spoke in hesitation, “I just don’t understand…
Why you took your painting, the one you seemed to enjoy so very much...
Gathered up your finger paints, to destroy it in a touch.”
Sadness filled her face as a tear trailed upon her cheek
And in slow and heartfelt words, she began to speak
“To show you each that colors can be beautiful, but they also can destroy
Everything we love and work for; everything we each enjoy
And the destruction of something that I loved was to make a point to you
That racism destroys the beauty in us all
And that fighting over colors is a destructive thing to do.”
 
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