What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade
Photo by Max Fischer from Pexels.
This poem was in the first episode of “Poetry Unbound,” Padraig O’Tuama’s podcast from “On Being.” I had a friend in college who had had a pretty rough childhood in the foster care system. Often, when something came up in conversation that she felt showed her ignorance, she would say, “I was absent the day they taught that.” It made me laugh, and I like using that saying myself. I, too, actually feel that with all the moves I made as a kid, I did sometimes miss things that were taught in different years at the different schools I attended. But mostly, I like using it as an excuse for not knowing something.
I like so many of these lines. “…how to find meaning in pumping gas, | how peeling potatoes can be a form of prayer.” That’s a whole world & life view, that is. Imagine if our teachers taught this in fourth grade.
“…how to chant the Psalms during cigarette breaks.” Ha. You can redeem anything, can’t you?
“The English lesson was that I am | is a complete sentence.” Layers of meaning. You are enough. And God’s answer to Moses’ question, “Who shall I tell them you are?” And God said, “I am that I am.”
What does this poem make you think of? What do you feel you have learned late in life?
What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade
by Brad Aaron ModlinMrs. Nelson explained how to stand still and listen
to the wind, how to find meaning in pumping gas,
how peeling potatoes can be a form of prayer. She took
questions on how not to feel lost in the dark.
After lunch she distributed worksheets
that covered ways to remember your grandfather’s
voice. Then the class discussed falling asleep
without feeling you had forgotten to do something else—
something important—and how to believe
the house you wake in is your home. This prompted
Mrs. Nelson to draw a chalkboard diagram detailing
how to chant the Psalms during cigarette breaks,
and how not to squirm for sound when your own thoughts
are all you hear; also, that you have enough.
The English lesson was that I am
is a complete sentence.
And just before the afternoon bell, she made the math equation
look easy. The one that proves that hundreds of questions,
and feeling cold, and all those nights spent looking
for whatever it was you lost, and one person
add up to something.