Dribble the page with the brilliance of your ballpoint pen. 2/21

Poetry.

Groan.

I generally dreaded this unit in high school, with only one exception. Found nothing redeeming from my poetry class at CCRI. Until I read these chapters, I had imagined that when it came time to teach a poetry unit to my students, I would spend my time trying fitfully to teach students to find meaning in poems that I myself wasn't entirely sure I could find myself. Don't get me wrong, I like poetry. But almost every scholarly interaction with it has meant a teacher has tried to tell me what a poem means, whether I could see it or not. I never thought of a poetry as a bridge to connect to my students, and to help them connect to each other, and to their world. I am happy to be schooled by Linda Christensen.

Like narratives, students are able to use their own voice and their own life experiences when writing poetry.

This is another chapter that I marked up like crazy with my highlighter. I can see myself returning to this chapter for tangible lesson ideas. I even wondered if it might be something I can do in my student teaching this semester. I thought I'd highlight the passages that meant the most to me, the ones that I not only highlighted but marked with a star or two. Or five.

• Poetry is structured in "lines that lay down a heartbeat for the students to follow." Yes yes yes. I tend to think of the rhyming as the structure of traditional poetry, but I realize that poems all have unique structures that give the poems their own "heartbeat."
• As a future as a teacher with a focus on social justice, I liked Christensen's use of poetry to not only share anger and frustration, but to "talk back to these judgments." And not only talk back but "to affirm their right to a place in the world." This is such an important point--that poetry can be a space where students can say "HERE I AM" and find support and value from their class community. 
• Christensen talks about being caught up in the curriculum of teaching literature that she needs a reminder that instead of teaching literature, she has to first teach the child in the class. And when she remembers that, she is better able to create a curriculum that best fits the students. I really appreciated how she notes that she structures her lessons in order to make room for the personal lives and stories of her students. She "builds these opportunities into the curriculum." She strongly argues that teachers must not fall into the trap of a few weeks of shallow get-to-know-you activities at the beginning of the year and expect that to be enough. And it can't be separate from the curriculum. At the end of that section, she noted that teachers "have so much to teach, we can't afford to deliver these lessons one at a time." 
• I hadn't thought of poetry as a way to help students improve other areas of writing. The way she uses poetry and prose to help students get a stronger grasp on grammar and parts of speech was awesome. Even though I LOVE diagramming a sentence, I can not imagine teaching that kind of thing to my students. THIS works so much better. 
• Not only does poetry help with other parts of speech, I especially liked how she uses poetry to help dive deeper into understanding literary and historical characters. So much better than assessing with a quiz, the poems she shared about Celie and especially Shug Avery from The Color Purple show some authentic understanding of the character. I can guarantee this will be something I do in my class. Christensen called this kind of assessing a "different kind of knowing."
• One of the passages that I highlighted and starred says, " I want my students to pay attention to words, use lists and imagery, to give up everyday, shopworn words for words that surprise, sing, provoke." A THOUSAND TIMES YES, LINDA CHRISTENSEN.

Another theme that popped up, again and again, is the idea of the details, and finding a way of drawing out the details, using the same kinds of tools that Gallagher used with his students, to draw out the details to make the writing more personal and specific, and full of juicy details. The blog post we read also reinforces this, with the notion of hidden poems. That the author was able to be in a supermarket, but find the small, personal, important, and heartbreaking details of the couple and the orange juice was the perfect example of this. 

I'm happy to say that I am excited about teaching poetry, throughout the school year, without the groan.

Since I'm missing class this week, I thought I would add my favorite poems here. 

One of my first experiences with poetry came in the lap of my mom, as she read the poem "Now I am Six" by A.A. Milne. It was and remains one of my favorites. 

As I got older, I discovered the magic of Shel Silverstein. I know all of the poems. I used to listen to a record of the author himself reading some of his favorites. Listen to the Mustn'ts was not only a favorite then, but immeasurably more so once I had children.

In high school, I was lucky enough to find myself in Inez Middleton's 9th grade English class. She was a force to be reckoned with, a loud, rotund, unapologetic black woman whose love for her students was palpable. She'd pull us into hugs whenever she thought we needed it, "come here, child" she'd sing. She made an indelible impression on me, and she introduced me to Maya Angelou. When she read Still I Rise to the class, I imagine that the only way the poem could have been burned into my heart with more force would have been if Ms. Angelou herself had read it to us. 

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.