Comstock Elementary

It has been an honor and a pleasure to lead Comstock Elementary!! Thank you to my staff, students and parents for your support! I will always cherish my time there and Comstock Elementary will always be in my heart! Your new Principal, Dr. ORNA Campbell will Continue our journey to make Comstock one of the best schools in Miami DADE County! Please support her and welcome her to our community! I love you all!! Best of luck and all my love❤️❤️❤️

Ms. Miller and Mrs. Rigby's 3rd Grade Class...

Honoring and remembering.

Honoring the lives of the men and women of our armed forces who perished defending our freedom and democracy.

Welcome to 🇮🇹 Italy...... Teacher's Appreciation Luncheon.. Beautiful Set Up and the food was delicious 😋. We want to thank our AMAZING administrators for today's lunch...

When your principal ends test week with cold stone ice cream. 😄😄😄😄 Thank you so much Ms. Rogers

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY FROM MS. HAMILTON & MS. RIGBY

The paradox of education is precisely this - that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated. ~ James Baldwin

The Song of the Smoke
By W. E. B. Du Bois

I am the Smoke King
I am black!
I am swinging in the sky,
I am wringing worlds awry;
I am the thought of the throbbing mills,
I am the soul of the soul-toil kills,
Wraith of the ripple of trading rills;
Up I’m curling from the sod,
I am whirling home to God;
I am the Smoke King
I am black.

I am the Smoke King,
I am black!
I am wreathing broken hearts,
I am sheathing love’s light darts;
Inspiration of iron times
Wedding the toil of toiling climes,
Shedding the blood of bloodless crimes—
Lurid lowering ’mid the blue,
Torrid towering toward the true,
I am the Smoke King,
I am black.

I am the Smoke King,
I am black!
I am darkening with song,
I am hearkening to wrong!
I will be black as blackness can—
The blacker the mantle, the mightier the man!
For blackness was ancient ere whiteness began.
I am daubing God in night,
I am swabbing Hell in white:
I am the Smoke King
I am black.

I am the Smoke King
I am black!
I am cursing ruddy morn,
I am hearsing hearts unborn:
Souls unto me are as stars in a night,
I whiten my black men—I blacken my white!
What’s the hue of a hide to a man in his might?
Hail! great, gritty, grimy hands—
Sweet Christ, pity toiling lands!
I am the Smoke King
I am black.

Title: Who will Cry?
Poet: Antwone Fisher

Who will cry for the little boy?
Lost and all alone.
Who will cry for the little boy?
Abandoned without his own?

Who will cry for the little boy?
He cried himself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little boy?
He never had for keeps.

Who will cry for the little boy?
He walked the burning sand
Who will cry for the little boy?
The boy inside the man.

Who will cry for the little boy?
Who knows well hurt and pain
Who will cry for the little boy?
He died again and again.

Who will cry for the little boy?
A good boy he tried to be
Who will cry for the little boy?
Who cries inside of me.

Title: Can You See The Pride In The Panther?
Poet: 2 Pac Shakur

Can You See the Pride In the Panther
As he grows in splendor and grace
Topling obstacles placed in the way,
of the progression of his race.

Can You See the Pride In the Panther
as she nurtures her young all alone
The seed must grow regardless
of the fact that it is planted in stone.

Can You See the Pride In the Panthers
as they unify as one.
The flower blooms with brilliance,
and outshines the rays of the sun.

Title: I Cry
Poet: 2 Pac Shakur

Sometimes when I'm alone
I Cry,
Cause I am on my own.
The tears I cry are bitter and warm.
They flow with life but take no form
I Cry because my heart is torn.
I find it difficult to carry on.

If I had an ear to confiding,
I would cry among my treasured friend,
but who do you know that stops that long,
to help another carry on.

The world moves fast and it would rather pass by.
Then to stop and see what makes one cry,
so painful and sad.
And sometimes…
I Cry
and no one cares about why.