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Archive for the ‘Gifted Education’ Category

The Poetry Friday Roundup is with Ruth at There is no such thing as a Godforsaken town.
Rainbow photo by Molly Hogan

This week is state testing week, so I did not pull my gifted students out from their regular classrooms. I’m on stand-by to help if needed. But I do get to see my youngest ones. William, first grade, was only recently placed in gifted services. His gifted brain is so full of ideas that he can barely settle on one thing. I asked him to work with me on a haiku about a rainbow. We talked about how a haiku form captures a single moment in time, usually about nature, and has 3 lines, short, long, short. We played around with word order and placement of his ideas. Then he came out with the word “surprise.” Ah yes, that’s it!

Reflex (relects) in the warter (water).
a rainbow comes out of clouds.
surprise in the sky

William’s first haiku, 1st grade

Carson in 2nd grade has been working with me all year long. He’s more independent in his writing, but still needs reassurance. I showed him a video from Mystery Science about how the rain becomes a prism to refract the white light into a colorful rainbow.

Rainbows are still a mystery to me even though I have this knowledge. When I see an actual rainbow in the sky, I often take a picture. My husband knows to stop for rainbows. If you are drawn to them, to Molly’s amazing photo, and want to add your writing to the collection, go back to this post on Wednesday.

Sunlight prism
in the water makes rainbows
arch of colors

Carson, 2nd grade

While I was checking my Fanschool post, I realized that even though Adelyn was not coming to class, she checked on our weekly “This Photo Wants to be a Poem” post and wrote. She is crazy about all things mythological. Can you tell?

The great color arc,
stretching above us.
As water vapor shimmers bright
in shining light,
Iris glows.

Adelyn, 5th grade
After a skipped day on Thursday (no worries, just busy life), Karin introduces a new character.

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Heidi Mordhorst at my juicy little universe.

For Poem in Your Pocket Day, I invited Marcie Flinchum Atkins to join my students by Zoom. We were able to get a small 30 minute window of time while she could visit. What a treat!

Marcie is a master at haiku, and no wonder, she writes one every day. She usually writes in a small notebook to photos that she has taken. Beautiful photos!

Her easy-going way led to a comfortable, safe environment for writing. My students wrote. I wrote. Like Marcie, I wanted to use a photo and Canva to design my haiku for publication. Maybe one day I’ll send them out on postcards.

At one of my schools, we are rejuvenating the butterfly garden. The purple salvia has come back after winter and is thick and covered with blossoms. We’ve been spending recess time there among these flowers, tilling and planting new feeding plants. Avalyn, my garden partner, wrote a haiku and asked me to put it on Canva like mine.

The Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Catherine Flynn today. Check on our little immigrant hero.

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Fifth grader Kailyn blows India ink into a mysterious shape.

Thanks to a grant from Alpha Delta Kappa educational sorority, I funded a field trip for the elementary gifted students in Iberia Parish. The purpose of the field trip was to expose our students to the mystery and magic of art.

The students were able to tour an exhibit at The Hilliard Museum in Lafayette, LA. They saw the art of George Rodrigue, who was born in New Iberia and became world famous with the creation of his Blue Dog series. The students were fascinated to learn of Rodrigue’s origins and how he created amazing paintings throughout his life until his death in 2013. They recognized the iconic Blue Dog from a sculpture that we have in a downtown park dedicated to his memory.

They also viewed the art of Beili Liu who used the element of water to create an abstract hanging of paper above their heads. She also made blue cyanotype prints of objects from the ocean to draw attention to the problems of pollution.

Denise Gallagher, a local author, illustrator, and graphic artist led the students in an abstract activity using small straws and India ink on paper. Enjoy the gallery of art. Some students wrote poems to accompany their creations.

I believe that children should be exposed to art and learn that they are creators. Denise and Callie, the educational docent at The Hilliard, helped our students feel comfortable and inspired by art. The students were pleasantly surprised and proud of their creations.

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

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George Rodrigue was born in New Iberia, LA and is famous for the Blue Dog. I never met him, but our town celebrates him with a pocket park on Main Street. The Bayou Teche Museum acquired a display of his studio.

Our students will be touring an exhibit of George Rodrigue’s work today at the Hilliard Museum in Lafayette, LA. To prepare my students for this field trip, I shared the story of the Blue Dog and let them choose a work of his art to write about.

John-Robert chose a painting with a gravestone for Tiffany. We googled the words “Tiffany + George Rodrigue” and found out that Tiffany was Rodrigue’s pet whom he based the Blue Dog on.

Page from a Blue Dog calendar

Oh Tiffany
where have you gone 
after all you’re right here

under That Lovely Cyprus tree
Why are you still hiding from me
I’m just A Blue dog

I go to the village 
THEY SHUN ME AWAY
“Leave evil spirit!”

They see me and run
why 
even when I adore the limbs of humans they run

So I have left to roam near only friend
to protect her in the stone box from them
all I want is to see her again no matter when

Oh Tiffany 
where have you gone 
after all I’m back from the hunt
so when is when

John-Robert, 6th grade

As a teacher of this bard, I hesitate to criticize at all. This is JR’s first and only year in my class. He has been writing poems every day in his notebook. None of them have capital letters or punctuation. When it comes to essays, I talk to him about the grammar choices he makes (or doesn’t make), but I still leave his poems alone.

I wish you could hear him recite them. He sounds like he’s reading from his very soul. I’m often left speechless. In my opinion, and I’m hoping it’s the right one, his creativity is a delicate thing. I want him to keep writing long after he’s been with me.

JR is my Emily Dickinson, writing far above my level of understanding. I think I will continue to leave him alone with his poems. He tells me he “knows” the grammar rules. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t use them. It’s as though his thoughts won’t allow for the crowding of periods and commas, capital letters, etc.

What’s an ELA teacher to do with that?

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

I pulled out an old library discarded book The Space Between Our Footsteps, an anthology of Middle Eastern art and poetry, edited by Naomi Shihab Nye, published in 1998. Our world news has been so harsh on the Middle East. I don’t know how much my young students know, but I was sure I could find an empathetic poem to share with them. Naomi’s introduction speaks of the prejudice of Americans toward Middle Easterners. She turns the table to tell what Middle Easterners might say about Americans. The truth is we are all humans. We all have thoughts and feelings, love, and tragedy.

The poem I chose for Poetry Friday was “I Have No Address” by Hamza El Din.

I Have No Address 

I am a sparrow with a white heart and a thousand tongues. 
I fly around the globe 
Singing for peace, love and humanity 
In every place. 
I have no address. 

My address is lines ornamented by dreams, beating hearts united by smiling hope 
For people who wish good for other people all the time. 
I sing, smile and cry. 
My tears wash away pain 
In every place. 

Our paths are boats of longing, turning round and round with us— 
One day to the east, another to the west, to tranquil moorings. 
And when the waves go against us and cast us away, 
Then the echo of my sounds at midnight will be a dock at the shore of tranquility, 
In every place. 

The day we join hands with others’ hands, our universe is 
A rose garden blooming in the holy night. 
It contains us, with hope, love and alleluias. 

And I am the sparrow on the branch. 
I sleep, dream and fly happily 
In every place. 
I have no address. 

Hamza El Din

How do we build empathy in our students when the news is anything but? Where do we direct them to find peace and understanding? I believe literature, poetry can do this. But is it enough? I don’t know.

My student Kailyn is a first generation American whose father immigrated from Laos with his family. She has heard first hand from her grandfather what the land of the free means. Currently she is reading Refugee. She saw the title in my classroom and identified with it immediately. I warned her that it’s a tough book. Sad things happen. She took it anyway. Her poetic response to I Have No Address came from her reading.

Freedom

I am free,
I have peace.
I can wander without anyone judging me.

Freedom is a privilege,
One wrong move and,
Boom!

Josef, Isabel, and Mahmoud,
Aren’t free;
They’re controlled.

I am free,
I am free from controlling,
I am free from fear.


Am
Free

Kailyn, 5th grade

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

I teach gifted kids in two elementary schools. A friend of mine sent me a message on Instagram to follow “the gifted perspective.” I could immediately connect to the posts. Especially when she defined perfectionism. “Gifted individuals have a level of self-introspection. Maybe they’re hyper aware of their knowledge, or of their learning, or of their differences between them and others. This can lead to perfectionism.”

My 2nd grade student is usually so excited to learn something new. I went to a workshop a few weeks ago at our arts council and was gifted a bag of supplies and a lesson plan on landscapes. I pulled up a landscape painting onto the smart board and started asking him questions about it.

I’m not sure when things fell apart, but he had a hard time identifying things in the painting that I had assumed he would know, animals, foreground, background, landforms, plow. The more questions I asked, the more shut down he became. Then I asked him to write a few sentences to describe the painting. He froze.

I thought to myself that surely he knew how to write a few sentences. Where was the breakdown? Did I even look at the grade level suggestion for this lesson?

Perspective helps. As I’ve processed this exchange, I’ve realized I was battling against a perfectionism wall. I managed to realize this before he melted into tears. I said, “Relax. This is just for you in your journal. It doesn’t have to be perfect.” We had a little more success with the second painting. And I didn’t ask him to write.

Perfectionism Elfchen

Writing
is hard
when you’re seven
try too hard to please
Teacher

Margaret Simon, daily elfchen
The Cornell  Farm by Edward Hicks

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Carol Varsalona is gathering poets today at Beyond Literacy Link.

Where do your prompts come from? Are you inspired to write without them or do you need a little push? Inspiration? Motivation?

I’ve been participating in The Stafford Challenge as well as Laura Shovan’s 12th Annual February Challenge, so I should not complain about needing or wanting a prompt for writing. My complaint, I suppose, is that there are too many prompts, too many things to write about. How do I choose the one? Not to mention, how do I keep up with it all?

I am lucky to be teaching ELA to different groups of children. We begin each class time with notebook writing. My students are loving this quiet, sacred writing time. I recently bought a collection of washi tapes and throw them out on the table for their use. My students are making color-coded pages, drawing, and writing, and embracing their creativity. They inspire me every day.

My student Sadie inspired this notebook poem. She came in singing. My heart drawing became a love poem I didn’t know was inside of me. The surprise of writing is addictive.

Dreams in my heart fly over the waves crashing onto the shore of your love. I am yours. You hold me like sea glass, soft and crystal, a gem, a gift from a broken world.

Margaret Simon, draft

Here is a page from Marifaye’s notebook. I marvel at her patience to write in two colors. She loves writing acrostics. Her notebook pages are beautifully created. She inspires me. She inspires her classmates. Maybe she will inspire you.

Notebook page by Marifaye

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Robyn Hood Black’s Life on the Deckle Edge

In the new year, I’ve returned to a daily notebook practice with my students. Little did I know the Stafford Challenge would appear and reaffirm my commitment. I adopted this practice years ago after an NCTE panel I coordinated which included Naomi Shihab Nye. We talked about William Stafford’s daily writing, and I adapted the steps to fit with my young students. For whatever reason (maybe Covid) I haven’t been leading my students to write daily in their notebooks. Now I’m reminded of the importance of a daily writing practice. These first few days of the Stafford Challenge, I have opened up more and more on the blank page and worried less about perfection.

Notebook page on Thursday, our first day of school all week.

Our notebook steps:

  1. Date
  2. Quote
  3. What’s Up
  4. Poem-ish

Pretend Play Elfchen

Pretend
no script
Play echoes life.
Their light, my delight
–Shine!

Margaret Simon, draft

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Have you ever had that student? The one who sits in the back of the class, holds herself in tight, rarely, if ever, raises her hand to share a poem with the class. The closet poet.

That’s not me because I believe in writing with my students and sharing my vulnerable poet self so they feel safe sharing theirs. And most of the time, it helps. I’ll share, then the shy ones will look at me with their longing eyes asking “Is it OK?” They know that poetry is a little piece of themselves. It’s bleeding on paper as someone famous said.

I wasn’t going to post for Poetry Friday. Life is just so full of family and busy that I can’t get caught up. But when I read A’s poem, I felt compelled to share it and how she came to write it.

I presented Irene Latham’s poem “Peace” from Dictionary for a Better World. Irene shared it in her newsletter here. This poem came at the perfect time in my lesson planning because we talked about symbolism this week. Irene so effectively used chocolate as a symbol of peace. There were so many wonderful craft moves to notice. Then I set my students loose to write. I invited them to create their own metaphor for peace and to borrow the phrase, “If only”.

A’s words both broke my heart and then healed it. At the age of 10, she expresses her internal life of anxiety and hope in a mature way. And yes, there were tears. I am privileged to be her teacher, her friend.


From the Tide, To the Moon (A letter from a friend to a friend)

If only we all
could just look up in the sky
and see that things aren’t that bad.
We aren’t that different.
We’re all human.

If only the stars could join us
and show us peace in the world.

If the moon could tell the tide
to think for itself.
To flow on its own.

And when you tell me
when to make decisions,
me when to make a choice
and what choice I should make,
think about how different we are
from the tide and the moon.

You aren’t the moon, 
So beautiful that we stare up at it.
I am not the tide,
That flows without ecstasy.

Not a moment of freedom.
No justice for the torrent.
Leave me be.
Leave me to my space.
Leave me to my freedom.

But don’t leave me…
My friend.

Adelyn, 5th grade

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Irene Latham has the roundup today.

This week my students and I practiced writing pantoums using a prompt from Pádraig Ó Tuama of On Being. He guides us through line by line to write about an ordinary object. I used the prompts to write for This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Just a Rock.

I warned my kids who are 4th and 5th graders that this form would be a challenge. Not all of them were ready and willing and that’s OK when we are creating our own poems. I wanted to share a few because the prompted lines work in a unique way so that each student (and myself) felt a sense of a successful poem.

Kailyn loves candy and has written a fantasy story that takes place in Kind Candy Kingdom. This is her pantoum poem.

Yummy candy I see,
A candy shop is your home. 
At the mall I beg my mom, 
then my brother takes you from me : (

A candy shop home seems nice! 
When you are with me I feel happiness and joy…
you being taken from me. 
It tastes sweet but sometimes sour.

You fill me with joy and happiness,
the sounds of crinkling wrappers. 
When I put you in my mouth, you are sweet and sour,
tingling on my tongue. 

The crinkling wrappers from kids inside,
at the mall I beg my mom.
Tingling on my tongue, 
Yummy candy I see.

Kailyn, 5th grade

In my classroom, I have a collection of Flair pens. My students are allowed to choose from them to write. When Avalyn’s mother gave me a gift card to Target, I bought a set of scented flairs. She wrote a pantoum praise poem for her scented pens.

Scented pens can squiggle on the page
In a poem in my notebook
These scented pens are extraordinary on the inside
If there is a blank page, these pens can make it colorful

In a poem in my notebook
When I make colorful marks on the page, it’s inspiring
If there is a blank page, these pens can make it colorful
But really these markers are flowers

When I make colorful marks on the page, it’s inspiring
O’ my non-smelly pens
But really these markers are flowers
As my hands hold the pen like an extraordinary trophy

O’ my non-smelly pens
These scented pens are extraordinary on the inside
As my hands hold the pen like an extraordinary trophy
Scented pens can squiggle on the page

Avalyn, 4th grade

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