WORDS FROM W.W. January 27, 2018
I was given the opportunity yesterday to teach seventh grade Language Arts class. One hundred adolescents more excited about a weekend of doing nothing as opposed to fifty-seven minutes of literary creating and discovery!
The assignment for each period was to create a poem, based on an ancient form of Chinese poetry called “Shi” poetry. I explained the creative process to them, showed them a few examples and set them off on the road of pondering, erasing bad lines of gibberish, and creative expression.
“Mr. Wolfe, what do you think about this? “I have a flying dog who flies in the air like a pigeon.”
“Needs a bit of work!”
“Why?”
“Well, I’m not exactly sure where you’re going with this, but if you have a flying dog do you really need to repeat two words later that he flies? And, isn’t it enough to say it’s a flying dog, as opposed to comparing him to a pigeon?” He ponders, returns to his seat, and I notice he immediately flips his pencil to use the eraser.
A masterpiece just destroyed by a substitute teacher who doesn’t understand about flying dogs.
“Mr. Wolfe, what do you think about this?” He hands me his creation, which I carefully read.
“The season of winter has begin
The light will be dim…”
“Shouldn’t that word be ‘begun’?
“Well, I wanted it to rhyme with dim.”
“(Thinking the words but not saying them: Listen, Longfellow!) Begin doesn’t rhyme with dim.”
“Yes, it does…begin…dim…” He is trying to convince me that I’m in error.
“No, it doesn’t! And, anyway, you don’t need to rhyme!”
“I know, but I thought it sounded good!”
(Thinking the words again: “Well, it doesn’t!”)
There were other inspired students yesterday who impressed me with the depth of their thoughts and flow of meaning. Poems about the afterlife, death, and personal value were mixed in with other poems about chicken wings, watermelon, and having a rat for a pet.
The drudgery I sensed about the assignment was soon replaced with an excitement about personal expression. Even if the poem was about macaroni and cheese there was still a sense of pride about what had been transmitted from the pencil to the paper.
When students shared their creations they read them with smiles on their faces and the hope of recognition. When each student finished reciting we snapped our fingers together like we were beatniks from the 60’s.
A few poets may have been created in those moments yesterday, as well as visions of flying dogs who look like pigeons.
Words from WW Blog 