Poetry Friday: Monsoon season and Mary Oliver

Poetry Friday is hosted by Jama @ Jama's Alphabet Soup

Thursday was a rainy day here in New Jersey. Not the usual pitter-patter kind of rainy day, but a monsoony rainy day - thunder, lightning, and torrential downpours.  Rain like this reminds me of growing up in India, when the monsoon season would suddenly break above the skies of Bombay and then remain for weeks and weeks.  Thunder rumbled above us as we began every day, and the rain would come down in sheets. Roofs, windows, the entire house, echoed with the sound of rain for days on end.  Streets would fill up with water, turning into impassable rivers, and scenes such as this were altogether common:

Monsoon season drove the grownups around me mad, but I loved it. I loved the music of rainfall and the way the skies changed their shades of grey: soft and soothing at times, ferocious and terrifying at others.  And I loved to dance in the rain:

Last Night the Rain Spoke to Me 

by Mary Oliver

Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!
That’s what it said
as it dropped,
smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing
under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,
and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain –
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.

Sllice of Life Tuesday: Two student slices about state testing

The March Slice of Life Challenge is hosted by Stacey and Ruth at Two Writing Teachers

Our state testing is over, but those testing experiences still seem to linger in my kids' imaginations.  Last week, many of my students chose to write their Friday Slice of Life posts about the "dreaded NJASK".  Here are two:

Caroline H.: 

For all the days leading up the NJ ASK, all I was thinking of is when it would be over. Months of preparation and the pressure to succeed never really fazed me, but something that did faze me, was the time limit. Knowing from previous experience with the lovely NJ ASK, I remembered how I would start feeling nervous and my face would prickle with heat. I can still remember the thing that my mom said to me when I told her my experience with time limits. She always said "Learn how to self soothe yourself." So that is what I would do. It helped me a lot last year, but this year we are expected to do much more than a paragraph or two. This did not help calm me in any way.
The test booklets got handed back out, and I almost wanted to thank Mr. Tenga, but decline his offer and hand the book right back to him. But I couldn't. I had no choice. I hesitantly opened my booklet and answer packet and began to read that task.
As I read the words on the crisp white paper, I stumbled on elementary words such as, "explain."
Explain.
The last word a student would want to hear.
Explain.
I wracked my brain for what I was supposed to explain. But then I realized
"It is on the paper, genius!" I mentally slapped myself across the face. How could I choke now? I was always perfectly timed when doing the written assessments in class, but when I know this will count towards my grades, my brain suddenly flipped a switch to "PANIC" mode.
I wrote for about 35 minutes straight, (including the proper planning,) and the teacher's voice suddenly rung into my ears. She stated that there was five minutes left for testing. My palms began to sweat and my eyebrows furrowed. I bit my lip and began to use my mother's words of advice from last year.
Learn how to self soothe yourself.
"OK," I thought. I could do this. I strained my hand and wrote as fast as I could.
When the final second struck, I let a sigh of relief escape my lips. I couldn't believe it.
I finished the dreaded, fearsome NJ ASK

In this slice, my promise to remain with each student through the testing experience as the voice in their ears guiding them along took a special turn:

Katherine H.: 

The NJASK paper and test booklet were plopped down on my desk as I looked down at their cover. I was very nervous even though I knew that I was prepared for the Language Arts section because we had practiced a lot in Block. I listened to Ms. Sculfort reading all of the directions out loud, "Now you may turn to page 3 in your Test Booklet and page 1 in your answer booklet. Now you may begin this section of the test, good luck!"

I was about to begin reading the story about Mudshark, when  I heard Mrs. Smith's voice inside my head repeatedly saying "read the questions, read the questions!!!" So I went on and read and labeled all the questions including the open ended response. Then I read over the story and finished all the multiple choice questions finally, it was time to do the open ended response. While writing the open ended response I heard Mrs. Smith's voice throughout the whole thing yelling in my ear, "Make sure you explain and state everything clearly and use examples from the text." So I went back to make sure that I did that. 
Finally when the section of the Language arts first day of testing was done I realized that when Mrs. Smith said that we would be hearing her yelling into our ear while we took our NJASK she was being serious because I had heard her the whole time while taking my test and it really helped remind me to make sure I had done and checked over everything that I needed to.

It's Monday, and here's what I'm reading: 5/20/13

It's Monday! What Are You Reading is hosted by Jen and Kellee at Teach Mentor Texts

Nonfiction Monday is hosted by Perogies and Gyoza

Etched in Clay: The Life of Dave, Enslaved Potter and Poet is writer/illustrator Andrea Chen's masterful collection of poems,  which tell the story of how an enslaved man transformed his craft into protest art.  

Dave's first documentation of ownership occurs in 1818, in a bill of sale such as this:

At, seventeen, he is purchased for the express purpose of using his strength to haul clay from the river to the potter's cabins where it is transformed into the pottery Edgefield, South Carolina is famous for.  But Dave soon becomes skilled at the craft itself, and learns how to fashion beautiful pots which are much in demand for storage.  Dave also learns to read and write, and rather than keeping this dangerous secret to himself (it is against the law for slaves to be literate,after all), Dave signs his own name to the pots he creates.  Soon, he takes this one step further - he writes lines from poems, witty observations, and riddles as well.   The more Dave is cautioned against this dangerous practice  the more daring he becomes - his signed pots become his way of challenging Southern society and their embrace of slavery.

Dave's story is told through a series of poems in the alternating voices of a cast of characters - the  owners, the women Dave was married to and then was sold away from, and Dave himself.  The poems of the enslaved are   especially touching to read; these were people caught in the clutches of a terrible system, one that tore apart helpless families time and time again.  Through all the tumult of his life and the times he lived in - secession, Civil War, Reconstruction - Dave turns to his art as a means of survival and self expression.  In the poem, "Etched in Clay," Dave speaks of his pottery this way:

...I am not afraid

 to write on a jar

and fire it hot

so my word

can never be erased.
And if some day
this jar cracks,
my word will stay,
etched in the shards."
Cheng's beautiful woodcuts are powerful visuals, as well:

Ironically, fittingly, Dave's pottery are treasured items today, sought after for museums and galleries.  His signature can be seen clearly in each - defiant through the ages:

   

You can read more about the history of Dave in this fascinating New York Times article.

Here is an  interview with the author by Rob Neufeld, whose book Carolina Clay is an investigation into the life and times of Dave, his pottery, and the difficult task of tracking down the histories of those that were enslaved: 

And here is potter Steve Ferrell of Old Edgefield Pottery, where Dave crafted so many of his treasures,  recounting his  life and work :

Poetry Friday: Preparing to say goodbye to my sixth graders

Poetry Friday is hosted by Ed DeCaria at Think Kid ,Think!

It's that time of year again - the last five weeks of school, and things are both speeding up (trying to fit in everything I can) and slowing down (let's go outside and play - it's much to nice to be stuck in a classroom!).  And, it's also that time of year when I know that I need to start saying my goodbyes to the sixth graders I've spent a year teaching, learning, growing and sharing wonderful times with.  They will come back to visit in the years ahead, I know, but it will never be quite the same again.  A year together is coming to an end, and I am reflecting and  preparing... 

Subject To Change

BY MARILYN TAYLOR

A reflection on my students

They are so beautiful, and so very young

they seem almost to glitter with perfection,

these creatures that I briefly move among.

I never get to stay with them for long,

but even so, I view them with affection:

they are so beautiful, and so very young.

Poised or clumsy, placid or high-strung,

they're expert in the art of   introspection,

these creatures that I briefly move among—

(you can read the rest here)

Slice of Life Tuesday: Sophie finds her puppyhood again....

The March Slice of Life Challenge is hosted by Stacey and Ruth at Two Writing Teachers

For the most part, our dog Sophie leads a very quiet, sedate life - she has her walks, chases a stick or ball here or there, cuddles on the sofa at any given chance, and seems pretty content living with two people of a certain age who have only so much time and energy to offer.  This Sophie looks peaceful and serene, like this: 

But, when the kids are home,  we see another Sophie.  This Sophie is full of energy and ready for anything.  From the tip of her nose to the tip of her tail, this Sophie is alert for action and poised for adventure.  Take this Mothers Day, for instance.  The younger two were around, the weather was glorious - the perfect opportunity to take to the hills and hike.  All morning long, Sophie had been bounding from one kid's bed to the other, willing each of them to wake up, get going, PLAY!!  Our sedate Sophie had reverted to puppy hood - tail a-wagging and nose a-twitching.  And, once we got going, there no limit to how high she could climb or how fast she could race.  Sophie, even in moments of rest, was all go. go, GO!  

My favorite moment came midway through our hike.  The kids crossed a rushing brook, and Sophie leaped over  the rocks after them.  My husband and I watched in amazement.  Was this the same Sophie who tip toed through puddles?!   She followed Ben and Livy as they wound their way this way and that, through the leafy woods,  and then finally back  over the brook.  Gracefully, she leaped over the boulders, pausing just enough to get her bearings and adjust her pace. At the very last moment, with the kids across already, she seemed to hesitate just a bit.  But their voices and their presence seemed to give her just the boost she needed to make that final leap ashore.  Ready for the next adventure.  Ready to be a puppy again, just for a few more hours.

It's Monday and Here's What I'm Reading: 5/13/13

It's Monday! What Are You Reading is hosted by Jen and Kellee at Teach Mentor Texts

Nonfiction Monday is hosted by Julie at Instantly Interruptible

We've been deep into the persuasive essay recently, and are now moving into literary essays.  I don't know what I could do to better prepare myself for teaching these genres without re-reading Breathing Life into Essays and Literary Essays: Writing About Reading - both from Lucy Calkins' Units of Study.

Lucy and her c-authors,  Cory Gillette and Medea McEvoy lay out the framework for these essays with great insight and clarity.  There is a clear rationale for each "bend in the road" - one teaching strategy building upon the skills of the last and pushing students to grow as writers and thinkers.  This is not the "here is the template, now go fill in the blanks" type of teaching that does little to help our students understand the genre and work towards writing meaningful essays.  Rather, this is teaching with intelligence and purpose - and both books provide wonderful road maps for teaching.  I was easily able to make adaptations for my sixth graders using my copy of the Common Core Standards, as well as Lucy's Pathways to the Common Core, and her Curricular Plans for Grade 6, which can be purchased very inexpensively from Heinneman as a PDF file.

What I love about teaching essay writing this way is that it gives my kids a strong foundation in essay writing - something they will need in the years ahead.  

The Last Train: A Holocaust Story, by Rona Arato is a powerful true story of love, courage and hope.  It is the story of the Arato family, Hungarian Jews whose lives were turned upside down with the Nazi invasion and occupation of 1944.  Six year old Paul (Rona's future husband), along with his brother, mother and aunt, are  soon rounded up along with the Jewish citizens of his little town and transported from to work camp to work camp, and finally to Bergen Belsen.  Each day is a fight for survival, and a fight to retain some joy and hope.  Finally, as the war comes to a close, Paul and his family are put on a train bound  for another mysterious destination.  The terrifying journey ends suddenly when American troops stop the train and liberate its desperate passengers.  Paul eventually emigrates to Canada, where he is able to build a new life for himself.  Like many Holocaust survivors, he rarely spoke of  his war time experiences  even to his wife and children.  But he did remember the American soldiers who had opened the doors to freedom so many years ago, and had always wanted to express his gratitude.  And then one day he opened a newspaper and came upon a story about the horrors of the war with photograph of a train full of concentration camp prisoners being liberated by American soldiers - his train.  Paul was finally ready to speak about his memories, which form the basis for his wife's powerful book.

Rona Arato's fictionalized account imagines Paul's story as it happened; how did families react to sudden upheaval and daily terror? how did they cope under unimaginably difficult circumstances? how did they maintain their connections to each other, to their humanity, when all the forces around them were determined to break these down?  It is a beautifully written, inspiring story.

Some thoughts about collaboration....

 This time of year always brings changes in our building - people announce retirements, new jobs, new opportunities, assignments change, and new people arrive for interviews.  And, in my little corner of sixth grade, change is afoot as well. One of my colleagues has requested an assignment change to seventh grade, and another is packing her bags and moving West - encouraged and abetted by me.  And then on Thursday our young and talented vice principal announced that he, too, was moving on and moving up - as all young and talented  people ought to do.   I am cheering on my colleague and my vice principal - greener pastures await them, and they will thrive.  But I am also mourning the loss of two amazing educators-in-arms , and acknowledging that my little corner has suddenly become lonelier.
Last week, I saw this posted on Facebook:

How accurate, I thought.  Teachers not only believe that collaboration is essential to good teaching practices,   but teachers generally want to collaborate, pick each others brains,  figure things out collectively,  and share the burden of curriculum development and planning.  Whenever some new mandate or directive come down from those higher up the education food chain, it helps to have other teachers to sit down with and puzzle over a game plan: here's what we're supposed to do, now how can we make it happen?  The burden feels lighter because there are others to share it with.  Collaboration, in theory, sounds like the smart way to go about the business of teaching.
Collaboration in practice, however, depends upon colleagues.  They have to be willing to open their doors, hear each others voices, share each others teaching practices,  be honest about their strengths and their weaknesses.  We can't all be good at everything, but we can share our personal expertise and learn how to fill in the gaps from each other.  I know that there are schools in which this is common practice - and I've seen these teachers at the many workshops I've attended at TC.  But, what to do if yours is a "closed door" building - where everyone wants to do what they want to do, and the message is: please go away and leave me the hell alone so that I can teach what I want, how I want?
Which brings me back to these departing colleagues - one who was willing and happy to collaborate, and one who was genuinely interested in curriculum, collaboration, best practices.  Now I am back to closed doors and those invisible "keep out!" signs.  Teaching is hard, teaching these days is even harder, and teaching as an isolated island is especially hard.  So, I am taking a moment today to voice my sadness...before picking up my planning materials and going at it again.  For, on my little sixth grade island are wonderful sixth graders counting on me to be engaged, enthusiastic and present.  I am back to teaching alone...but my door is still open.