Pep Talk?

My students have been doing a mini-unit on suffixes, and today was the quiz. It was a little more challenging than many of them were expecting, so I wasn't too surprised when one boy approached my desk with quite a few blanks on his paper and more than a little frustration. "I thought I knew these," he said, "but I can't get any more."

I looked over his test with him and tried to help triage the questions. There were two that I was pretty sure he could get, if he just gave them some more thought. He was still clearly discouraged, though.

And that's when I heard myself say, "C'mon! Just focus on eternity and disappointment."

He knew what I meant.

Six Minutes 'til Post Time

We're continental diners around here... dinner at 8 is pretty much the norm, and forgive us Josh, but in the summer it can be much, much later. Part of the problem, or perhaps more accurately, the "situation," is that our days are full, and a fine meal together at the end of the day seems like the least we can do for ourselves and each other, so we take the time to make that happen.

Having said so, and being more or less at peace with this lifestyle (which has worked for centuries in other, less puritanical, societies-- siesta, anyone?), I will say that rising at 5:30 to make it to school for our [ungodly] start-time is an impediment to such a timeline. A logical person will note that one of these deadlines is non-negotiable, and the other is not, so we have been trying to have all our commitments (ahem, you, blog) met, and dinner on the table by eight every evening.

Done!

April is the Cruelest Month or, Happy Birthday Shakespeare

The Poetry Challenge today is not a popular one with my sixth graders, but I like to think of it as character building. In honor of Shakespeare's 449th birthday, I asked them to write a Shakespearean Sonnet.

For those of you who are a little rusty, that's a 14 line poem in iambic pentameter (10 syllables, with an unstressed-stressed pattern) with an ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme. Now you can see why the sixth graders are a little cranky, right?

As always, I don't require them to succeed on the first try; I just ask that they try. Someone did a pretty good job:

Sonnet 1
By Evan

A bird once sang on a midsummer's night,
an owl joined in, hooting rhythmically,
next a wolf howled, singing sharp notes, and bites,
and the forest became a symphony.
The evergreens withdrew their mighty thorns,
made way for ticks and mice to chant the bridge,
and hawks and crows subdued their woeful mourns
to find a place in choir along the ridge.
Beetles buzzed and foxes pawed oaken drums,
and frogs played tunes with slime and lily-pads.
Bears scratched trees with strong muscular thumbs,
and long-legs played the limbo with their dads.
The woods trembled until the very morn,
and now, all of the land is back to norm.

Oaken drums and muscular thumbs? Awesome!

Why I Love David Sedaris

He has a hilarious and uncanny ability to observe and express the ludicrous. Take this, posted today on his Facebook page:

If you ever want unwarranted sympathy, go on a lecture tour. “Oh, my God,” people will say, “I just feel so awful for you.”

No one offered me any pity when I was moving bricks in a wheel barrow, or washing dishes in 100 degree heat. All I ever heard back then was “hurry up,” but stand at a podium for an hour and a half, or sit on your ass at a book signing table and you’ll never hear the end of it. “You poor thing, you must be exhausted.”

It goes on from there, a free little must-read essay for all.

Praise Poems

The poetry challenge today was a form of praise poem. Praise Poems come from Western Africa and celebrate an individual's identity. They are often call and response, with the audience chanting a chorus between lines.

The formula I gave my students was to write six lines and a chorus. The first line is your name, the second about your place of birth or ethnicity, the third about your family, the fourth and fifth compare you to natural elements or entities, and the last chooses a positive, defining quality about you and repeats it three times. The chorus is an expression of what they hope might be said of them by their community, and so it is written in third person.

Once again, I am really wowed by the kids' writing. I got goosebumps reading a couple of them. One boy ended his poem with the line, I am ready, ready, ready. Another student wrote as her chorus, Everyone counts.

Here's my praise poem:

I am Tracey,
Teaching is in her heart.
born within the watch of Freedom,
Teaching is in her heart.
oldest child of flight and persuasion, sister of law and empowerment.
Teaching is in her heart.
I am warm granite ledges
Teaching is in her heart.
and quiet snowfall,
Teaching is in her heart.
and I am patient, patient, patient.
Teaching is in her heart.

This Is Just To Say

In honor of National Poetry Month I have presented my students with daily poetry challenges. The specifics are revealed each day on our online course where they also post their efforts. So far, this has been the best of the writing challenges this year-- the writing has been fresh and funny and really good, especially considering that it's basically first draft.

Today the task was to write a parody of William Carlos William's poem, This Is Just To Say. Here are a couple of the offerings so far:

This is just to say
that I have taken your favorite t-shirt
that was in your room
and which you were probably going to wear
on the first day of school.
Forgive me
even though it is a really cool shirt,
it would now not be colored on
and torn to shreds
if you hadn't left it on your bed!

(It's not my fault!)

AND

This is just to say...

I broke the shower curtain rod
in your fancy
Master bathroom
jacuzzi tub

which I knew
you were going to use
after your soccer game
against the best team in the league

Forgive me
it was fun to swing on
back and forth through the air.....
until it shattered.
Crack!

Life and Literature

I knew what it was about the minute I received the e-mail:

On Tuesday, my son shared a poem with me that he found in a collection he said you shared with him.  I have some concerns about the content of the poem and feel it might be easier if we talked.

To help my students prepare for Poem in your Pocket Day, I always break out my personal poetry library. Consisting of sixty or so volumes, many are edited and written for kids, but some are for more general audiences. Don't get me wrong-- I have culled my collection of any books that might have more mature material than not-- there is no Reuben Jackson, Richard Brautigan, or even Sylvia Plath, although I do own some of their work.

However, I do share a couple of anthologies by Wislawa Szymborska. I first read her writing when she won the Nobel prize for Literature in 1996. Born in 1923, she spent her entire life in her native Poland, living through Nazi occupation, Stalinism, Solidarity, and eventually Democracy. She has said that her poetry explores the large truths that exist in every day life. "Of course life crosses politics, but my poems are not strictly political. They are more about people and life."

When I offer my poetry books to my students it is always with the caveat that they must turn the page on anything that they feel may be inappropriate, or bring it to me. Since the purpose of the assignment is to find a poem to share, I caution them to consider their audience and avoid choosing anything that might offend. As an example, I offer Szymborska's poem, The Terrorist, He Watches.

Published in 1979 during a rash of European bombings, it starts like this:  

The bomb will go off in the bar at one twenty p.m.
Now it's only 1:16 p.m.
Some will have time to go in,
some to get out. 

And it follows the people who go in and out of the bar unaware of the mortal choices they are making, until the bomb explodes in the last line.

I warned my students about this poem on Monday morning. On Monday afternoon, two bombs went off at the Boston Marathon. On Tuesday morning, I pulled the anthology off the table, and on Tuesday afternoon, this particular student mentioned the poem to his parents. Despite my discouragement, he had copied some lines from the poem the day before, and was struck by how timely they were.

When I explained the time frame and objectives of the assignment, his mother was very understanding, and she could even set her concern aside for a moment to appreciate that her 11-year-old was making literary connections to current events.

We agreed that it's what we want, but not in this way.

"Of course, life crosses politics," Szymborska once said "but my poems are strictly not political. They are more about people and life." - See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/340#sthash.2y4N7fvB.dpuf

"Of course, life crosses politics," Szymborska once said "but my poems are strictly not political. They are more about people and life." - See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/340#sthash.2y4N7fvB.dpuf

"Of course, life crosses politics," Szymborska once said "but my poems are strictly not political. They are more about people and life." - See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/340#sthash.2y4N7fvB.dpuf

"Of course, life crosses politics," Szymborska once said "but my poems are strictly not political. They are more about people and life." - See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/340#sthash.2y4N7fvB.dpuf