Art by Robb Mommaerts

I hope my teacher likes me,
and I hope she thinks I’m smart. 
I hope she gives us time for lunch 
and science, math, and art. 

I hope that there’s a desk that fits. 
I hope I make a friend. 
I hope we read one hundred stories, 
real ones and pretend. 

I hope my teacher lets me sit 
up front where I can see. 
I hope she’ll learn my real, true name 
and won’t just call me “T.”