I have made a commitment to three things: finding time for Blue Space (beach, sky), Green Space (earth, woods), and the responses I have to poets & writers. I seek to discover the art of being.
Inspired by Joy Harjo's poem "I Am Not Ready to Die Yet."
I am seeing clear connections between everything happening in the universe: the events, the things I am reading, the things I am listening to, the things I feel compelled to write.
This poem fits into my #64Challenge because the last week of our school year in Lee County was a volatile one across the nation. I have witnessed tense word exchanges between colleague. I have read the comments by my students of the past, many who are actively protesting. I cannot help but be thoughtfully moved by it all, and I know I need to use it as the ground for moving forward.
Everything connecting.
Today I carry the desire to live a life as one who will be open to the stories of others, to listen for the truth, to not be swayed by useless rhetoric and grandstanding. Today I carry the desire to live a classroom life as one who will help others identify and tell their stories, rather than allow someone else define and write them. Today I carry the desire to live as an example of one who gathers the knowledge of the past, bringing it into the present, and examining all angles with an unflinching eye.
Today I carry the desire to live a life of non-judgment. Everything I need to know is in the person in front of me. They are the key to heaven.
Today I carry the desire to live a life where words matter. I can see the frames used to justify fear and inflammation. What I need are words that heal and promote growth.
Today I carry the desire to live a life of these choices and pray, in some small way, a few tiny ripples can reach another shore.
#2. Everyone shared in the chat a quote from a book, song, or poem. We all chose someone else's to write about. Here are the submissions:
Laurie:"Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, [she] would hold them in their hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like the rain. (from The Book Thief by Markus Zusak)
Melody:"There will be no white flag above my door." (from song "White Flag" sung by Dido, composed by Dido, Rollo Armstrong, and Rick Nowels)
Jen: "Stay gold, Ponyboy" (from The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton)
Kara:"A million people come and go through a person's ebb and flow, and times they keep on changin', while they're changin' by" ("Head Full of Ideas" performed by 311, written by Douglas Martinez and Nicholas Hexum)
Maureen: "Teach your children well, their father's hell will slowly go by" ("Teach Your Children" performed by Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young, composed by Graham Nash)
Helen:"He just didn't know that whatever falls from the sky shall not be cursed. And that includes the rain." (from The Bastard of Istanbul written by Elif Sharaf)
Glen: "Dear poetry, you are the special friend who accepts every word" written by a 5th grader
#3 Let me tell you a story about...
Find something in your house that has an interesting little story about it. Write the story!
Last night during an interval of trying to get back
to sleep, I had this realization that my relationship
with my students this past quarter took on a different
flavor because I wasn't feeling rushed to start class,
take attendance, put out fires the way I have to do in
ordinary classroom life, enabling me to give quiet attention
to what I needed to do, be it a Zoom meeting or a phone
call or grading their work; this quiet attention is the way
to go, it closes the distance, it makes us more aware,
and it breathes life into educating.
I like reflecting on how things fall into place, how synchronicity plays a role in our actions, and how connections are made.
This is one of those stories. My poem will follow.
Yesterday I woke up and became aware of a "blackout" day. It was a relief to me, since I felt a deep need to retreat. I wrote a poem about it. I avoided social media. And I took care of myself.
As part of my retreat, I decided to take a walk at a local park and look for signs and symbols and messages that might help me through this highly unusual time. The park I chose is down the street from me, the name having historical significance:
Wa-KeHatchee Park takes its name from a combination of Native American names combining "cow" and "water." A creek that cuts through the property was an important watering hole for Florida cowboys as the last source of fresh water for their cattle as they headed to Punta Rassa for shipment to Cuba.
I found what I was looking for at the park (explained in the poem), and used my Animal Medicine (Native American) book to discern what the message was. The overarching theme: Don't give in to illusions.
Always good advice.
Then today my dear friend and writing partner Laurie put up a prompt to use a golden line from a song as a starter for a poem of our own. I had just listened to David Bowie's Hunky Dory, and knew I'd go back to his song lyrics. I still recall how taken I was with Bowie's lyrics on this album when I discovered him as a senior in high school. One great songwriter.
Finally, a word on the title. There is singer/songwriter I have had the pleasure of hearing perform, and the good fortune of participating in his songwriting workshops at the Sanibel Island Writer's Conference. His name is Dan Bern, and one of my favorite songs by him is called "Albuquerque Lullaby." Immediately after writing this poem, which uses Bowie lyrics to open and close, I knew I wanted to call it "Wa-Ke Hatchee Lullaby." But I didn't know why. It was a poem about NOT going to sleep.
So I looked up the meaning of lullaby, discovering it can be a song used to pass down cultural knowledge, to expand communication skills, and to regulate behaviors. I had no idea! Sometimes our heart knows things that we haven't consciously processed yet.
The opening of this poem is from Bowie's song "Oh, You Pretty Things." The ending is from "Fill Your Heart."
Wa-Ke Hatchee Lullaby
"Look out my window, what do I see
A crack in the sky and a hand reaching down to me"
to give me a shake from my complacency
The world slowed down this spring
and learned to breathe
And those who let it transform them
didn't need any weapons or superior power
Discovering that this is a time to look beyond
what we normally see -- to stop, look, and listen
to the pain of hundreds of years
designed by those who relish weapons and superior power
Who believe in only one way to get it
Yet it appears we've reached the hour.
I walked where the Wa-Ke Hatchee once quenched the thirst
of those on the road
hoping to quench a thirst of my own
I saw Turtle, Dragonfly, Crow
with their wise messages for me
Ask for assistance and abundance will flow
Break down the illusions that restrict actions and ideas
Let personal integrity be your guide
Marinating in these words for a night and day
illusions began to drop away
a way forward is what I now see
"Gentleness clears the soul
Love cleans the mind and makes it free."
Final note: I went to find a video for "Fill Your Heart" and learned it is not a Bowie composition, but was written by Biff Rose and Paul Williams. Bowie did compose "Oh You Pretty Things."
The strangest school year ever is coming to a close today.
From a strong and focused start to Global Read Aloud to switching curriculum to the joy of teaching four creative writing classes to virtual classes to mentoring students, it's been quite a year.
And next year -- I'm facing the fact it will most likely be virtual, at least for the first half of the year.
But today is the last official day. No parties. No goodbye hugs. No waving the buses on with tears in our eyes.
My team had a good long meeting today just to talk about successes and opportunities. We all agreed we have learned a lot, and have gained a wider perspective on what our students face in school every day, beyond our own classes. We know our reading team has a new and binding connection with other teachers in the school, as we reached out to our students who were struggling and saw them through.
I don't know what is around the corner. What I do know is that we will grow and learn together, become more proactive and reflective, and keep the heart and soul of teaching exactly where it is.
This year has been strange -- but not without amazing purpose.
