Or to Flip a Buddhist proverb: When the Teacher is Ready, The Student Appears! There is a cliche teachers bandy about that "our students are our teachers!" But sometimes, it's true, not just a broadly applied worldview or something we say at Happy Hour over seltzers to redeem a tough week. This summer, I got to nerd out teaching Writing Mechanics (soon re-dubbed "The Inner Life of Words") to TEAK Fellowship's 7th graders with an assistant, my former student Aaron M, who is now entering Yale as a freshman. I taught him personal essay writing and grammar when he was their age-- one of those students I knew Could Write if he wanted to. I was like, "Hey, Aaron-- (acting all casual) --could I see some of your writing?" (FEED ME!) and he agreed. "Mostly poems" he said, like they were going to be some tea-bag slogan to apologize for. Not at all. A Poem from my Student as Teacher! He often speaks like he is apologizing in advance. But "Fat", this poem he showed me? My student as teacher, totally unapologetic! He loves words, like, a lot. Sometimes shy and fumbling when he speaks spontaneously, he's anything but when he's writing. Maybe it's because I'm a mom and I'm currently preoccupied with fat phobia in our culture, but this poem (a draft, he clarified) made me stand up and salute. How come a teenage boy can figure this out, but the rest of our culture can't? Fat (A Poem for My Mother)-- **Draft, but what isn't? The skinny boy in my dorm,six-foot tall and all bones and beautiful,scoffs as he speaks of the Latin teacher he deemsfar too fatfor his youthful thirty-six years.His lips curl in disgust. In anger, even.It’s his fault. I think of my mother:thirty-six, too, and stick-thinuntil she had me. Today,she carries with her stretch marksand flab and extra pounds of fat,and I wonder if the Beautiful Boy’s lipswould curl just as tightly,spit just as spitefullyin speaking of the body that kept me safe. I wonder if he knows that each time he Continue Reading …
poetry
Power of mixing
When stakes are high in writing (like, say, is true for the college essay) we can forget how much joy there is in mixing unlikely things together. This is a form of play young children know well, and shed reluctantly. Only after enough adults have said, "You can't do X with Y!" a la "You can't put a POTATO on the TRAIN TRACK!" does the kid eventually "get it" = the adult world is full of arbitrary rules, and really missing out on the power of mixing up. We need our poets to keep our language lively This morning, the power of mixing tackled me from the first lines of Terence Hayes's poem "When James Baldwin & Audre Lorde each lend Stevie Wonder an eyeball/ he immediately contends with gravity, falling either to his knees/or flat on His luminous face." I mean, lend an eyeball? Thanks, guys. We know right away we're in the presence of a player. In mixing surprise with pragmatism, absurdity with serious verbs (lend...contends...falling), Terence says: get in on this, it's going to be good. I'm not going to give you what you expect, because you don't want me to. And did you notice the rock stars in my poem? Be the kind of player who mixes meanings Speaking of players; There were plenty of the other kind of player in my high school and college (both elite institutions, GULP!), the sort who slept with girls and then thought nothing of ranking those experiences on a scale of crap to Cardi B the next morning in public lounges. The only reason those guys were fun to be around was the same reason anyone wound up the topic of their conversation: they kept it light, everything, even themselves, was a joke. I mention them because they were mean: but the player of words is not mean, though perhaps slicing. The poet players are truth-chasers. When Terence plays, we have to play along. The poem is full of nouns, and potential white-people repellent. Nods at lyrics and artistic endeavors, "inner visions" of Wonder are now populated (purpled!) with Continue Reading …
Math and Talking About Feelings
Math and I are old Frenemies. We whisper about each other behind each other's backs-- word problems indeed. In this area, it's hard to talk about my feelings-- where they came from, how gendered they might be. Maybe you can relate, or maybe you can't; maybe numbers make you feel confident, like whatever is quantifiable is also manageable. Maybe you love equations more than, say, a great burrito. For a moment, I'm looking at the other side of the story. I mostly avoid math, though I do run a business (hi!). In that business, I help students write personal essays that must meet unforgiving word or character count limits. So the math I use most on a daily basis is addition (do these words surpass limit?) and subtraction (what can we take out to be under the word count limit?). With these numbers in mind, I pull the gem sentences and phrases from the slush sentences. I'm comfortable with these constraints. I'd happily do that for you. Getting 2,071 words down to 650 doesn't scare me. Tax Day means Math Day Problems All my feelings about math resurface on Tax day, the math-iest day on the calendar. Tax day, thankfully, falls during Poetry Month. Now poetry I get. That's really moved society forward. You can sign up for poem-a-day here. Most, but not all, of my clients & students are too young to pay taxes as head of household, so they (you) are not exactly sharing my pain on tax day (yet). But no one is too young to understand what giant horse-crap taxes are. The less you have, the more you pay. I work with students from families across the economic spectrum. For complicated reasons, and due to unforgiving math, my own economic situation is sometimes perilous. It's good for empathy. If I possibly can, I offer sliding scale as an option for payment. I understand. But at least I wrote off all those books I bought. After Math Day comes Non-Violent Day So April 16th is a great day in the world of ordinal numbers because it means Continue Reading …
Do something amazing, make amazing things
Here are some people who are actively doing creative things that are elevating and amazing. Because sometimes we need to focus on what's life-affirming (and not this crappy political morass). The force of the imagination can open a tightened chest. Check out three these mighty real folks: Three Amazing Artists with a message My former student, Jordan Hiraldo, who made it out of a tough childhood on the streets of New York City. He realized by keeping his ear to the local scene, he could do something amazing with his lens and capture artists in their everyday hustle. Because, let's face it, we have to hustle. Check him out here. My colleague, teacher, friend, Holly Wren Spaudling, whose off-grid childhood primed her for a life of inquiry and poetry as inoculation against cultural madness. Check her out here. My guide Maya Angelou, whose childhood trauma left her elective mute at 7 years-old. She found her voice again only after a savvy poetry teacher refused to listen to her work if she wouldn't read it aloud. Here is Maya's insistent message to young people: "You are all we have." Listen to the whole journey here. (Get your tissues/snot sleeve ready!). Prompt Yourself Up How about you, amazing person? What creative impulse runs through you, and how can you let it all hang out-- like, now? (Because I can't keep listening to these confirmation hearings, it's killing me, I'd rather look at anything even remotely amazing that you make-- yes, you, really). How has your childhood shaped you? How have your unique conditions given you a unique eye-- and what does that eye see? What have you made lately? Can you reach for some materials now and release your imagination, just because? How will you be part of setting us all free? These are the questions that art can often answer better than fact alone. Do something amazing, and show it to us. The world needs this everyday. Continue Reading …
Getting Everything You Want
Rick Benjamin, my mentor, beloved friend, and current poet laureate of Rhode Island, gets everything he wants. But that's because what he wants is to circulate the wisdom that words, and maybe words alone, can carry. His preferred medium is poetry, which calls words back to their sharpened purpose. In the everyday, words are such common currency that we can easily waste them or use them cheaply (ever done that?)-- the way we can waste our breath, or even waste our lives, given to us so freely. Wise words beckon us, AGAIN, to pay attention to what we are really saying, being, doing. I am on this topic now because there is so much WANTING bound up with the college application process: the schools we want to attend or want our children to attend, the status or recognition we want (very much) to gain or not to lose-- and the want to be Wanted. The process can be overwhelming and leave little room for breathing, for common sense, or for just plain joy in what is. On New Years Day, a day that can be auspicious or a Big Headache or both, Rick and I chewed over ideas for his monthly column for the Providence Journal (which you can and should read regularly here)-- something about change, what else? The poem "Oceans" I have long cherished popped up as fitting-- do we get what we expect? Do we even know what we already have? Are we closed or opened to change? o c e a n s I have a feeling that my boat has struck, down there in the depths, against a great thing. And nothing happens! Nothing … Silence … Waves … —Nothing happens? Or has everything happened, and are we standing now, quietly, in the new life? ~Juan Ramon Jimenez, trans. by Robert Bly This simple poem teaches me at every rereading. If you want to get everything you want, it's easy enough: adjust your wants. Jimenez, perhaps not even meaning to, teaches us to feel and listen and be brave enough to notice that we may already be standing in the new life, the next "great Continue Reading …