By Lawrence M. Golda
Once upon a Bureau, dreary, this applicant pondered, weak and weary
Over many a quaint and curious volume of regs and codes, a bore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of an auditor gently rapping, rapping on my own school's door.
'Tis some auditor, I muttered, rapping at my schools front door
Only this and no one more.
Ah distinctly I remember it was way back in December
And I've waited through September, though I'd wait at my front door
Eagerly I wished for an approving - even a temporary, approving
From the matrix sad story proving, proving a complex school, and more,
For the time of application pending proved a long time, and before
An approval, time, and not much more.
And the cautious looking monitors, pensive, after all, they're auditors
Thrilled me filled me with fantastic hopes never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"’Tis just auditor entreating, entreating entrance at my school's front door.
Some nice auditor entreating entrance at my school's front door.
This is it and nothing more.
Presently my need grew stronger, to be approved or licensed and no longer
Sir, said I, or Madam, please give a school approval, I implore;
To this first ed specialist I went looking, I thought he had an approval cooking
I had hoped you would be booking, booking a site visit to my door
Waiting longing, praying, hoping that the site visit would occur
Only this. Nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no applicant ever dared to dream before.
Submitting my app to specialist, proudly, I announced to students loudly
Of the greatness of the school to be and of curriculum, equipment, and much more
Of my intent to teach once more - these the words so quick I uttered
"Soon my approval!" Nothing more.
Back into my office, I turning, all my thoughts within me burning
Soon again I heard an auditor more distinctly than before
"Surely," said I, "surely that is an auditor at my window lattice;
Let me show to you my palace, and all my school records for you to explore
Let me depart for you to stay a moment, and these records you explore."
"'Tis but my adult school, nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, quickly then I cleared the clutter,
In there stepped a stately specialist of the Bureau, no one more.
Not the least of papers had he, not all that I had sent him, sadly,
But with pride and pomp he plainly, perched in chair inside my door.
Perched upon my favorite cushion just inside my school's front door.
Perched with papers, not much more.
Then this geezer tried beguiling my sad fancy into smiling
By the businesslike decorum of the countenance he wore,
"Though thy suit be pressed and pleasing, thou" I said, "art surely teasing
With this brief and pointless audit of this school that I adore.
Tell me what thy Bureau's need is so that we may talk some more.
Quoth the auditor: "Not one chance more."
Much I marveled this ungainly man to deny approval oh, so plainly
Though his message little help - little resolution bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no ed specialist or other being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing a perfect school heretofore
Aspiring bureaucrat he, for Bureau, cold impassive to his core,
Gave approval? He was sore.
But the "Application Pending" sign sitting lonely outside my school, busted, speaks only
Those two words, as if its soul in those two words it does outpour.
Nothing farther does it utter, source of shame I'm heard to mutter-
‘Till I scarcely more than stutter: "Others have been approved before!
On the morrow this sign will leave me as my hopes and flown before."
The sign outside I do deplore.
Now the auditor, still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of him and near my door
Then upon the velvet sinking I betook myself to linking
Codes and regs unto my app, thinking why abhor this auditor?
What this firm and loathsome auditor meant in speaking,
Meant in speaking "Not one chance more."
Then in the mail 'twas coming to me, interpretations of the regs that threw me
Now I'm waiting for the answer, that my school has been approved
Ringing now the auditor's calling, hesitant it seems he's stalling
With unwanted news he's stalling, with the news that he must share
With the weighty news he's stalling, but it's news that I must bear
Confirming just: "Not one chance more."
Was I wise to be demanding on the courses I designed when standing
Submitting an application for a school to that big Bureau, possibly cruel?
Oh the time that I've spent waiting, oh the findings that I'm hating,
Now through my school the site visit team keeps walking, whispers in the corners, talking
Reviewers talking of my school and if it suits them, then out the door.
Will I be applying: Evermore?
"Be my last word our sign of parting, fickle auditor! I shrieked, up starting-
"Get thee back into the tempest of Sacramento and the bore
Of searching for the code you're needing, through my app you still are weeding
Leave my plans and heart unbroken, off with you now, out the door!
Take thy try from out my heart, and take thy forms and quick depart.
Quoth my raving: "Nevermore."
And so my approval app, unremitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
Deep in the pile of papers, with Bureau dust, gleaming
And my eyes have all the seeming of the feeble minded, dreaming
And the lamplight o'er me streaming throws my shadow on the floor.
And I, from out this not approved school in this State that lies beyond my door
Shall be freed - Nevermore!
By: Lawrence Golda, Private Postsecondary School Consultant