and math was our common language (or thoughts on working in a school)

You ask what my job was and that's simple enough.
I was a math tutor.

But if you ask what I did,
that's another matter entirely

I cared for so many students the schools chewed up
And spat out
And tried to funnel into institutions
                                       or prison
                                       or subminimum wage
                                       or death on the street
And math was the common language we had

is that more simple or more complicated or both to say?

i'd say both

the complexity of saying your job is being human
that's not really a job?
is it?

i cared for so many students who needed someone
someone
anyone
while they were being torn to shreds
by a system that knew what it was doing
and just.
didn't.
care.

because maybe if one adult was there and giving a hand, that might be enough to grab onto

and math was our common language

sure what i did
you can talk about
you do talk about
the helping people find accomodations they need for math
or the helping someone who is being left behind and expected to fail,
  not graduate,
    who cares
      who cares
        who cares,
to pass
because all they needed was someone to walk through methods together one on one until they had the patterns sorted out rather than mixed together
or the catching someone up, so they could leave "life skills" like they wanted
or the showing someone proofs because they were just so so bored and needed something fun
or the various other academic things
which certainly all mattered

you can talk
you do talk
about the fact that i could easily personally change standardized test scores
by looking at people as people and as their needs as personal
by helping each person
each person
people people people we're people
not numbers on a test

but you forget
so often
of the person drowning of depression from the abuse of school who needed a hand
someone to just say i see you
i care
you matter
i am one of us too
i am one of me
me
i am a me
not what others are building me into

you forget
the pain and the pain and the pain
and the comfort
and the maybe someone actually showing you that there are ways to exist
that maybe you can be an adult
that maybe adulthood exists at all

you forget
the trying
flailing
failing
pain
of existing

and that being okay to hurt sometimes
because others are doing that too
because you are surviving
in a world that hates you

you forget

the necessity to not be alone
the necessity to have someone just simply care

the necessity
to have someone see you as human