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Howdy, Campers!
Lucky you--you arrived just in time for another episode in TeachingAuthor's 5-Star series,
to binge-read all of our WWWs, click on the menu button above, "Writing Workouts"
Today's WWW is brought to you by
Paul B. Janeczko (who visited our blog
last week), author of--gasp!--
50 books, including his latest,
The Death of the Hat--which you could WIN--yes, you--your very own autographed copy--simply enter our book-giveaway which runs until April 22, 2015 (details at the end of
last week's post)!
Okie dokie--welcome back, PBJ! Would you elaborate on the writing exercise you talked briefly about last Friday?What I said last Friday was that it was more an approach than an exercise. I like to use poetry models when I work with young readers. I try to show them poems by published poets, but also poems by their peers. When you’re in the 4th grade, Emily Dickinson or Robert Frost may not impress you, but reading a poem by another 4th grader may be just the motivation that you need. And before I turn the kids loose to write, we read the poem, and I give them the chance to talk about what they notice in it. Then we do something a group rough draft so they can begin to see the writing process in action. Then it’s time for them to write.
One of the poems I use is based an an English street poem called “I’d Rather Be.” Here are a few lines:
I’d rather be hands than feet.
I’d rather be honest than cheat.
I’d rather be a bed that a seat.
I’d rather be a blanket than a sheet.
- I give the kids a copy of this poem, which runs about 20 lines.
- I break it into 3 parts and have a different student read each part. (Part of every workshop is reading aloud!)
- I then ask the students if they detected any pattern in the poem. Rhyming poems generally follow a pattern.
- The kids can identify 3 ingredients of the pattern: end rhyme, repetition of “I’d rather be” at the start of each line, a comparison or opposite in each line.
- Taken together, these 3 ingredients give the 4 part of that pattern: rhythm.
- Before I turn the kids loose to write 3-4 lines of their own “I’d Rather Be,” we try to create an example of 4 lines out loud. The kids are usually quick to get the hang of it.
- Just to make sure, we try another 4 lines with a different end sound.
- Then they are ready to read.
- After 10-15 minutes of writing, it’s time to read examples aloud. Usually, there are many takers.
This is one poem that they will have the chance to continue and complete with their teacher.
The kids write stuff like this:
I’d rather be wood than concrete
I’d rather be huge that petite
I’d rather be gloves than a hat
I’d rather be a ball than a bat
I’d rather be hands than toes
I’d rather be a finger than a nose
I’d rather be love than hate
I’d rather be alone than a mate
Sounds like an exercise that I can take directly to the classroom--and one that packs a lot of punch, Paul. Thanks again for dropping by! (AND surely that English street song is the origin of Paul Simon's El Condor Pasa (If I Could)...)Readers, here's a preview from Candlewick about Paul's latest collaboration with illustrator
Chris Rashchka (for a chance to win an autographed copy, see our latest Give-Away which ends 4/22/15...enter at the end of
last week's post):
A celebrated duo reunites for a look at poems through history inspired by objects—earthly and celestial—reflecting the time in which each poet lived.
A book-eating moth in the early Middle Ages. A peach blossom during the Renaissance. A haunted palace in the Victorian era. A lament for the hat in contemporary times...In The Death of the Hat: A Brief History of Poetry in 50 Objects, award-winning anthologist Paul B. Janeczko presents his fiftieth book, offering young readers a quick tour of poets through the ages. Breathing bright life into each selection is Chris Raschka’s witty, imaginative art.
Thank you for reading this today.
posted with affection by April Halprin Wayland and Eli (who--at this very minute is ripping apart his beloved stuffed animal, Rabbit)
You'll find my poems, posted each day of Poetry Month 2015,
here.
It's a huge honor for me to share the words of Paul B. Janeczko today, a poet I discovered in college and whose work I used in my classroom for years.
I didn't start out to be a poet. I started out as a kid in New Jersey who had two major goals in life: 1) to survive one more year of delivering newspapers without being attacked by Ike, the one-eyed, slobbering, crazed cur that lurked in the forsythia bushes at the top of the hill; and 2) to become more than a weak-hitting, third-string catcher on our sorry Little League team. I failed at both.
Had I announced at the dinner table, “Mom, Dad, I’ve decided to be a poet,” my parents -- particularly my mother -- would have been thrilled. In truth, they would have been thrilled that I’d decided to be anything other than the top-40 disk jockey, Edsel salesman, or bullpen catcher that I constantly yammered about becoming in grammar school. But at that point in my life -- as an affable kid who endured hours sitting in a desk whose design, I was convinced originated in a 15th-century Spanish dungeon -- poetry meant no more to me than 1066 or George Washington’s wooden teeth. You can tell, I suspect, that as a student, I did not have what you might call an “inquisitive mind.” The only time I was “gifted” was on my birthday and on Christmas.
My path from grammar school to high school teacher to poet gave me many opportunities to heed my internal GPS when it declared, “Recalculating.” For some inexplicable reason (dare I call it a blessing?), poetry was a constant companion along the way, whether I was teaching or writing my own poems. Whenever I worked with kids and poetry, I have wanted the kids to feel that all poems have a purpose, described well by Jonathan Holden:
“to give shape, in a concise and memorable way, to what our lives feel like . . . Poems help us to notice the world more and better, and they enable us to share with others.”
And today, with civilization seemingly destroying itself piece by piece, we all need to share. That’s what poets do. That’s what I try to do with my books. Isn’t that what we all try to do with words? I want young readers to feel that with each collection. Every poem in them is a sharing. My hope is that my readers will carry on that sharing.
As for me, although I never even sat in an Edsel or played ball above the Little League level, I did become a reader and writer of poetry. I consider myself lucky, given my staggering lack of interest and effort in school, not to mention the poetry I was expected to read. But kids don’t need to rely on luck to become readers of poetry. Exciting books of poetry are available. I hope parents and teachers share our love of poetry with kids. And let’s give them a chance to share their love of poetry with us. And, when we are touched by a good poem, we may recall the words of Stanley Kunitz, who said that if you listen hard enough to poets,
“who knows--we too may break into dance, perhaps for grief, perhaps for joy.”
Paul B. Janeczko aspired to be the teacher he never had, when he decided to pursue a career as a high school language arts teacher. From his own days as a student, Paul was obsessed with poetry of all kinds, and as a teacher he wanted to spread his own love of poetry to young people. Today, Paul Janeczko is better known as a writer, poet and anthologist.
by Paul B. Janeczko
Candlewick 2004
A circus tent. A catastrophic fire. The voices of those who were there, victim and witness, their stories in verse.
On the afternoon of July 6, 1944 a fire broke out at the Ringling Brother's Circus while in performance in Hartford, Connecticut. The tent canvas had been waterproofed with paraffin and gasoline, a combination that turned the entire
In keeping with my back-to-school theme, I’m tickled to showcase a brand spankin’ new villanelle by friend and marvel, J. Patrick Lewis (used with his permission). Enjoy the clever wordplay that so often characterizes Pat’s poetry.
The Principle of the Principal
by J. Patrick Lewis
What does she do at Elementary School?
That lady who’s in charge of everything.
The principle of Principals is cool.
Dilemmas, whether great or minuscule,
She handles like a yo-yo on a string.
Now what she does at Elementary School
Is make sure yellow buses get their fuel
And listen to complaints that teachers bring
With principle. The Principal is cool.
She hopes to curb the stress and ridicule
Of standard tests that kids endure each spring
(Required of her Elementary School).
But she must make exceptions to the rule
To juggle at this Elementary Ring-
Ling Brothers Circus. Principals are cool.
To swim, you stick your toe into the pool.
To Principal, make every kid a king.
That’s what she does at Elementary School:
A Principal with principles is cool.
Pat also has a new book out this year (one of several, I’m betting), Birds on a Wire, a fascinating collection of renga (the ancient form of linked) poems in collaboration with Paul Janeczko. It’s a game-like poetic form that kids may enjoy exploring, because one writer pens a verse to which another poet responds, back and forth, linking first and last lines, but not all necessarily connected in content—if that description makes sense. It’s clever, fun, and surprising and in this case, weaves a story/description of a small town through multiple details both concrete and abstract (with lovely watercolor scenes provided by the talented Gary Lippincott). Here’s one excerpt that makes a nice “school” connection for me today:
behind their teacher
a line of first-graders
each clutching a new book
crossing at the WALK sign
make way for readers
From: Lewis, J. Patrick, and Janeczko, Paul B. 2008. Birds on a Wire. Honesdale, PA: Wordsong/Boyds Mills Press.
The Booklist STARRED review calls it a “meditative meander about a timeless town… both insightful and visceral, (a book) that demands and rewards multiple readings, viewings, and contemplations." Check it out!
Join the Poetry Friday Round Up at Read. Imagine. Talk. See you there!
Picture credit: Amazon; www.oberlin.edu
Pictured: Mary Jane Patterson, first woman principal of Dunbar High School, Washington, DC, 1860’s
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Wonderful post! I grew up with lots of poetry (my dad made me start memorizing it when I was three!) so I'm always surprised when my peers don't like it--and they almost invariably say it's because it was never read to them when they were young. Reading poetry to my girls is one of my favorite things to do as a parent now, and they're already in love with it, too.
I remember reading AA Milne to my now twelve-year-old when he was really little. He'd thump to the rhythm. Poetry is a wonderful way to expose children to new ways words work together, to lovely imagery and rhythms and textures.
It has a need to fill and is a pleasure.
Truly enjoying browsing today. And laughing my head off at this disk jockey/ car salesman/ baseball player turned poet. Thank you, Caroline, for all of these posts.
My pleasure! The variety really has been fun.