He makes sharp right turns
And brakes for every stop sign
Always
A slow driver with miles of open road ahead
Frustrates others
Car horns wail like trumpets
Time oscillates as hearts race
He wishes for minutes to spare
Too many bags
Carrying life’s weight
A brisk walk to greet judging stares
Charcoal eyes
Admonisher of excuses
Howard Thurman’s quote made me think about my journey in life so far. And the experiences I’ve had that define who I am today. Inside me there’s a little girl with wide, brown-eyes and bouncy, thick ponytails. She’s a talkative, artsy, and stubborn creature. If you’re reading my writing for the first time now you’ve met her. I have things in common with you. We all have things in common with others. But I have some, maybe even multiple, interests and qualities unlike yours. These things shape who I am. They steer my reaction to trouble. They help me avoid things that hinder my growth.What’s right for me may not be the same for you.
Call it distinctness.We are coded differently. And this makes you and me special individuals. For instance, one of my favorites songs is “Being With You,” by Smokie Robinson. When I hear it, a flashback to riding in my mom’s red convertible sports car rushes me and with it comes nostalgia. The song won’t have the same effect on you. In fact, you may not relate to it all. This is absolutely fine. Now I’m wondering what song makes you have a flashback or feel a certain emotion. It’s important to identify the things that assist you with a definition of self. Knowing exactly who you are right down to the core will lead you on a path that belongs only to you. Thurman offers solid advice.
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I was teaching a reading lesson to 7th graders, asking them questions about the text, like I always do. There was low chatter from a few students. The interruption was minor, but still distracting to those who were listening attentively to me. I asked the girls to stop talking and they did for a short time. When they began talking again, I asked them to change their seats. In this way, I hoped, their separation would stop them from talking to each other.
I heard whining, like baby noises from one girl. I asked her to stop making these sounds and she did. But then she made the same noise again. I told her to sit at a desk where no other students were. My desks are arranged in three rows of paired seating. This is an easy setup for partner work, which happens daily in my classroom. While we waited for her to move, I watched her and I thought please move, move now without any push back.
In her new seat, she didn’t make any more noises. Later, I noticed her writing instead of answering reading questions during partner time, to which she opted to work on alone. Politely, I leaned in close to her and told her to put the note away. “I can’t. This is to you,” she said. I stood upright and backed off. Well, I wanted to know what she had written. I figured it was an explanation for her actions in class, but I didn’t expect it to be accompanied with an apology. Her words were sincere and written in with a young person’s tone I try to mimic in my YA stories. I liked her apology.
Here’s what she wrote: Hey. Okay so look I am sorry about how I’ve behaved these past few days I have come to school in the week. Today it was another girl I swear that girl is funny, but that’s not the point, the point is I am sorry for disrupting your class and I will try my best to do better because I am a young teen and not a little kid! But to be honest here at school is really the time I get the chance to talk, smile, and laugh! But ok…Bye. Sorry. After reading it, I thanked her for it.
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This morning I discovered this form of poetry on The Write Prompts. It took hours to conjure words with the right number of syllables for each line of this Nonet; a nine line poem with a syllable count descending from 9 to 1. I’m happy to share my first attempt at this form with you.
TAKEN
They came for me in the evening
Vulnerable subconscious state
Attacking sweet memories
A tranquil hiding place
Left me with nothing
Nightmares prevail
Patient for
This to
Pass
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Negativity breeds more of it, which is why I try to avoid it anytime I’m near someone who is speaking negatively. Sometimes I can’t avoid it. Daily at the school where I teach I witness children speaking negatively to each other. The other day in class the lesson I was teaching was interrupted by two boys who were engaged in a negative dialogue. They were exchanging insults and I had to stop teaching to address the matter. I was reading aloud “The Cask of Amontillado.” It’s one of my favorite stories by Poe. I asked them repeatedly to stop trading insults, but the boys ignored me.
I could tell by their body language that both had hurt feelings by the matter and they were embarrassed, but neither one wanted to appear weak in front of their peers. One had his head down as he put down the other boy. The other boy had his arms folded across his chest and snapped at anyone who chimed in to instigate what was happening. Apparently, one of the boys was called short and this offended him. In retaliation, he talked about the other boy’s attire, claimed that the boy always wore the same clothes on dress down days, and that his shoes were old and worn.
Aware that this confrontation was a catalyst to a fight, I refused to let it continue. While students were silently reading the story, I asked the boys to step in the hallway for a personal conversation with me. “He shoulda neva called me short,” one boy said. “He kept talkin’ ’bout my clothes, and that’s very disrespectful,” the other boy said with his arms still folded. I told them that their negative talk was demeaning. It was also disruptive to the learning environment. I tried my best to express to them the importance of mindful usage of words. When used to hurt another person, words can be damaging for life.
The boy couldn’t do anything to alter his height any more than the other boy could change his economic status. It took a while; I convinced each to apologize to the other. The boy with a modest wardrobe was noble enough to look directly at the other boy and offer his apology first. The other boy fiddled with a locker without looking up gave his apology. In the end, I didn’t expect them to be friends, but I needed them to walk away knowing that their actions were unacceptable. I wasn’t going to tolerate their negative talk. They re-entered the classroom calmer and I continued the lesson.
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I wrote 40 pages this month for Book in A Week. All story. No editing. And I didn’t lose interest. This is good. Certainly, I wanted to meet the 100 page goal I set for the challenge. Every time I began to write I thought of this and it partly motivated me to type as many words as possible to fill a blank page. On my note app I wrote things I wished to include in the story. This was helpful for those moments I encountered lag while writing. Other encouragement came from daily updates through email which showed how many pages each member had written. I admire writers who can sit for hours and write a bunch of pages. Ten pages was the highest number of pages I wrote in a day this week. Well, next month my goal is the same. 100 pages. I may have shared this with you before, but I won’t change this goal until I accomplish it.
Every Wednesday, The Write Prompts features a poetry prompt. And this is where I found the Lanturne. I hadn’t heard of this form before and because I enjoy learning new things I did a little research. The Lanturne is a short, syllable-count Japanese form. It has five lines with syllable-counts of one, two, three, four and one. It’s written with center justification and ideally has the shape of a Japanese lantern when complete. *DISCLAIMER* I didn’t write mine to the topic, but here’s my attempt at this form below. When you’ve read it, you can share your thoughts in the comment section and then go on and subscribe to stay updated with new posts.
His
Lined paper
Canvas for letters
Desperate to create real
Words
Again we were outdoors in the park for enrichment. I had a group of 7 students. They were excited to latch hook and I shared this sentiment. The weather was sunny with cool winds at the right moment. Certainly, I’ve told you how much I enjoy this time with students. One of the boys in my group sat alone because a girl put her leg on the bench to block him from sitting there. She claimed she was saving the seat for me, but then as he walked away she said that she didn’t want him next to her and that he was strange.
This was a bit awkward. The other two seated at her table while I was standing, listening to her, were stunned by her comments. Honesty is a no-brainer for kids. They say exactly what’s on their mind and do it without any filtering or thought about who they might offend. Well, I expressed that calling the boy strange wasn’t kind and that he, like everyone else in my group, has a right to sit where he/she wants. Well, he can’t sit here. Look at him with those ole baggy pants, she said and then giggled. Fine. This was going to be a tough one to sway. She had strong opinions. But I reminded her again to be kind to him and others. I went on to say that passing judgment on someone based on their clothing limits your chances of truly knowing who that person is inside.
Quietly she listened to me, holding her hook in one hand while the other hand weighted the grid on the table, which btw had a pink, fluffy heart on it. Irony? A little reminder to be less cold-hearted? When I finished my “teachable moment,” all I heard from her was ok. I walked away and sat at the other table next to the boy who had a kit like mine. It’s a smiley face. From him I learned that he makes $10 dollars once a week for cutting the grass (I could use his skills), he has four younger siblings, and he likes going to water parks. We hooked bright yellow pieces of yarn to our grids and admired our progress. This made us smile wide. I’ve included a few pictures of today’s latch hook enrichment class below. Feel free to tell me what you think in the comment section. You can also subscribe to this blog to stay updated with new posts.
I began writing about my life three years ago. I’m not certain what triggered it, but for some reason I noticed how much time had gone by. I don’t have any grey hair or prominent wrinkles, but I have aged. Then I felt, as I now feel, desperate to capture as many memories of my life as I can recall. Internally, there’s a strong desire to document my experiences. Partly, this has to do with some inhibition I have to remember every minute detail of my childhood.
The other half is merely because I want to. I have pages of memories that are in no particular order. I guess an outline prior to writing a memoir would’ve been useful, but I didn’t consider it at the time. After I wrote the first line, which tells who I am, almost immediately I was flooded with a rush of words to type. In thinking about what to include in the memoir, I want to share everything. I have so many memories of my life so far. But if I told it all, the book would probably turn out too long and perhaps boring.
There’s a definite chance that I will include memories of where I grew up and the three states I’ve lived in: Illinois, Indiana, and Arizona. Pictures trigger memories that I’ve forgotten about and although images capture a specific moment, they encourage my thoughts to stretch far beyond who/what I see in them. There’s a Chinese restaurant I pass each morning on the way to work.
Each time I do this, I’m reminded that I need to go inside, not to eat, but to look at the layout. I’d like to see if it has changed at all. The exterior looks worn and over twenty years have passed since I was there. Last month while writing for Book in a Week, I thought about how to organize the chapters in my memoir. It was the first time I had done this and it helped me to focus on the subject so that I only wrote about events/details pertaining to it.
The things I’ve dealt with in life have shaped who I am today. I like reflecting on it all; although, some memories bolster a huge amount of pain. They make these brown eyes rain. I cringe at the thought of writing death’s chapter. It will force me to relive sad events. Dealing with loss is difficult. The memoir serves as self-acknowledgement of my life’s journey. I hope that one day I will publish this work to share with you.
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When it’s 80 outdoors, who wants to sit inside a classroom? We didn’t. And this is why we had our enrichment class in the park next to our school. There were only five in my group today. The others were either in detention or absent. We sat on wooden benches and talked about their day. They shared stories about other kids who got in trouble for misbehavior. I always enjoy listening to them. My attention instantly moves from one kid to another because they interrupt each other in mid-sentence. Conversation never seems to get in the way of attaching tiny pieces of yarn to their grids. One girl yelled after her yarn flew off the table and onto the ground. In a swift leap to the rescue, I caught the little multi-colored bundle before it was taken away by another gust of wind. We all laughed. To keep that from happening again, she put her yarn back in the box and closed it. When our time was up, a few said, “aw.” Three of them chose to keep their kits again to work on them at home. I may have helped turn my students into crafty young people. Below you’ll find pictures of our latch hook fun. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comment section and then subscribe to my blog with your email address to stay updated with new posts.
