Slice of Life #23: Day 22/31: Alone

For the month of March, each day I am writing and posting a slice of my life, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. 

Slice of Life #23: Day 22/31: 

Alone

Yesterday's post really got me thinking about lists. In my writer's notebook, I frequently write lists. I realized that I process so many things in list format. 

Amy Ludwig VanDerwater's, Poems Are Teachers, provides an abundance of mentor texts and suggestions for how to craft different poems. It's a wonderful resource. When writing a list poem, VanDerwater reminds readers that lists do not need to be ordered by time. She suggested to first list a group of related words, topics, people, questions. She also reminds writers that often list poems end with some sort of change. 

A mentor poem by Kwame Alexander

Kwame Alexander's poem is a list poem mentor text in Poems Are Teachers. The repetition of the word alone stuck with me all day. It made me think about when I was a young mother with two small children. Although I cherished spending time with my children, I was often exhausted and barely got a break. Periodically, I fantasized of time on my own. When I first separated from my then husband and had to get used to seeing my kids only 50% of the time, I had to quickly adjust to spending time on my own - something that I had once yearned for. Those first few months were so challenging. After three and a half years, I still have many moments of feeling sad when I am without my kids, but I manage it much better now. 

Here's a list poem to describe my time when I am alone:  

When I'm Alone

I read,

crochet,

linger on walks,

dance while doing dishes,

make dinners with black olives and mushrooms,

watch edgy shows and dramas,

spend time with my boyfriend,

blast my music,

go thrifting,

and miss my 

children

deeply.

  

March Slice of Life Challenge Day 15: Picture Prompts

For the month of March, each day I am writing and posting a slice of my life, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. 

March Slice of Life Challenge Day 15: 
Picture Prompts

One of the best parts of my job is that I get to service ninth and tenth grade students who need more opportunities to develop literacy skills beyond their core high school courses. Writing is often an area that many of my students have not experienced a lot of success with yet, so I try to provide students with as many low-risk writing opportunities as I can. 

As I was paging through Amy Ludwig VanDerwater's Poems are Teachers this week, I was reminded of the technique called Jotting from a Photograph. The Learning Network of The New York Times regularly publishes Picture Prompts, so using the New York Times Picture Prompts: Walking Down the Street, my class and I wrote based on the image (see below). 

"Walking Down the Street"

Since my students were new to the technique, we began by making lists first. Using VanDerwater's suggestion, I instructed students to make columns with the headings, "What I See/What I Think...Wonder....Feel" first. 

My columns and lists

After students jotted down ideas for each column, they used turn and talk to generate more thinking, and I invited them to add to their lists following partner conversations. Finally, I invited students to write for three minutes based on the image. Students had the option to write based on their lists, answering the question from the prompt, a poem or story, or whatever came to their minds as they wrote. 

I've found that many of my students are paralyzed to even try to write a few sentences. After all, for so long they have been given the message that they are always doing it wrong. This is the joy of low-risk writing like this - you can't do it wrong. You just need to show up as a writer. 

As I wrote with my students and listened to their smart discussions and read their insightful writing, I wrote this free verse poem using the document camera: 

Among people, 

she is an orb-

glowing in curiosity, 

connection.

Thriving.

Yet, as time passes

she becomes inundated

by noise and stimulation. 

She retreats - 

sliding below 

humanity.

Her halo 

plummets.

She is ash. 

March Slice of Life Challenge Day 14: Ukulele Lessons

For the month of March, each day I am writing and posting a slice of my life, hosted by Two Writing Teachers. 

March Slice of Life Challenge Day 14: Ukulele Lessons

After reading Beth Moore's thought-provoking slice about the difference between Storytelling and Band-aids, I've been thinking of how I can create better stories in this Slice of Life Challenge. For me, zooming into a small moment is really challenging. Lately, I have been struggling to find seed ideas - ones I feel are worthy of developing and sharing. 

When I get stuck at anything, I frequently turn to books. This was no exception. I spied Amy Ludvig VanDerwater's Poems Are Teachers resting on my professional book shelf; I paged through it, searching for some guidance.

Turning to the section called Tell A Story, and using the poem called "My Heart" as a mentor text, I created a free verse poem about beginning ukulele lessons:

Ukulele Lessons

"Do something for yourself"

Her words spooled in my mind.

I needed to find 

something meaningful,
yet manageable. 

Spending two evenings each week

waiting while my children took 

their music lessons, 

I cherished listening to lovely tones  
as I sat outside practice rooms.
Once I overheard a music instructor say,
"Feel the rhythm in your bones." 

And I recalled how I adored 
making music when I was young.

I longed for inspiration again.

An unexpected gift of Christmas money,

a neglected ukulele,

and group lessons became available

on my only open night of the week.

It's meant to be, I thought 
and signed up. 
At last, something for me.

In mid-January, 

warmly greeted by two passionate ukulele teachers,

I learned about frets, finger placement

tuning strings, and basic chords.
"Return home, practice what you learned tonight 
for at least five minutes," Ms. Katie recommended,
"and then reserve fifteen minutes to practice daily."

That evening, when I returned home, 

with clumsy fingers like a newborn foal,

I began practicing the ukulele,
knowing that I could only get better.

Daily practicing became a retreat - 
fifteen minutes of uninterrupted time:
just me and the ukulele.