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The Power of Poetry & Tears

I'm in tears. (No surprise to many of you, I know.) "Calculus. Think about calculus" is running through my head. Ridiculous, yeah, but it's what I do when the giant bubble is bursting in my throat, barely holding the dam of emotions at bay. I guess that's what you expect from an English teacher - think about math, and it all goes away! Oops, my secret is out...

But why the calculus? Student work. I'm battling the response to my students' words with fuzzy memories of derivatives because I am simply blown away by their work. Remember last week's post? About my class I just wasn't sure I could reach?

This week was a different week.

It was also full of extremes. The week brought me to the edge of my tolerance, being stricter than I've been in eons in an effort to minimize disruptions and distractions. After all, I owe it to those in the group who are always on point, always on time, always on. The week saw a kind administrator and an influential coach make visits to my room. It also saw me share some personal stories and - surprise again - tears.

It started with the poem "Raised by Women" by Kelly Norman Ellis. When I was introduced to this text and its accompanying video of the author, I knew I'd use it.


Next, I shared "Raised by Fishing." Author? Me. It's my imitation of the original that I worked on over the summer. Writing it was fun at first, brainstorming all the euphemisms my daddy uses in the boat. But I couldn't resist including the forever influence of fishing with Dad that is now influencing my children. And that was the part that was tough to read to my students, so tissues were needed.


The assignment, then, was for the students to do their own imitations. Pick something they love that's impacted them in life and copy Ellis' style. Repeat the first and last lines of stanzas. Include a quote in each one. End with the title. They were off.

Two jumped right in. They always do. Two talked it out, writing a few lines for each other, and then they too were in. The quiet ones waited for a conference and a touch of confidence, then they also were in. A few still lagged. They always do.

What I thought would take a day took three. Several are still unfinished. But I collected anyway.

Wow.

These kids were raised by beautiful families and tasty food, influential siblings and strong traditions. These kids live and breathe deep roots. These kids have felt inexplicable loss and unending love. And they wrote about it in such a moving way!

This week, we're gonna publish. We'll get out the pretty paper, pick the fancy fonts, and print poetry. But better than that, I will offer them a wider audience. You, my friends. Stay tuned to this space. You just may see some poetry here soon.

Get your Kleenexes!


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