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Archive for the ‘Slice of Life’ Category

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

As I was driving to school this morning, I wondered if the snow we had last week was all part of a dream. Every time I saw something white, I turned my head. Is it snow? No, there are still white sheets covering plants (ghosts of snowmen) and litter of white plastic (ghosts of snow drifts). But our temperatures are back to normal southern winter, 40-60 degrees, and there are few signs that last week we were covered in snow.

My students were so eager to write about their experience last week, a historic snowstorm. Most reminisced about the snow-people they built. Some wrote a Slice of Life without my prompting. I spoke with a colleague whose students were similarly inspired to write.

Kailyn described her snow-person: “Let’s talk about what my snow woman was made out of. Her eyes were flowers from my mom’s office, her nose was obviously a carrot, and her lips were a jelly belly sour pucker lip. She wore a Mardi Gras scarf, quickly changed to a light up necklace along with a coffee cup in her hand. We stuck a branch of leaves in her head for hair.”

Carson’s mother sent me a photo of him making a snow angel.

Carson, 3rd grade, makes his first ever snow angel.

James, 4th grade, wrote an I am From poem about a photo I posted of a Cajun Snowman.

I am from
The winter breeze
I am from
wearing jackets
I am from
The chilly snow
I am from
Drinking hot chocolate
I am from
Making snowmen

I encouraged my grandson, Leo, to create a journal page about the experiences we had together. His writing is coming along, but most of all, I’m excited that this is something we can do together. You have to love his signature.

I hope all of our children remember this experience, but we know it will fade, as the snow has faded. I decided to create a photobook for our family. No one seems to do photo albums anymore, so with a photobook, I can remember alongside my grandchildren, who are probably too young to remember. Maybe they will. The magical wonderland of Narnia. Our own time warp through the wardrobe.

Grandmother Oak in the snow.

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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.

The first day back from our holiday break, my students were excited about the idea of beginning the year with 100 Days of Notebooking (à la Michelle Haseltine) and One Little Word.

I saw an Instagram post by Jen Vincent (2024 Donald Graves Award recipient and all around fabulous writing teacher) about using question-storming for discovering your One Little Word. @storyexploratory

Jen graciously sent me a pre-made Google slideshow to use. (Ah, I love a free gift.) My older students, 4th-6th, responded well. The younger ones in 2nd grade needed a bit more guidance. But the basic idea was to write down questions about how you could make 2025 an awesome year. The answers to the questions would lead them to a One Little Word.

I chose a word last week and posted about it for Spiritual Thursday. Jen’s question-storming led me to a different word. I was surprised by this. Is it OK to change your word? As I look to retirement at the end of this school year and wonder about my future, the word Believe came forward.

After the question-storming activity, I allowed some creative working time. Some students made a sketch of their word. Some wrote an acrostic poem. I encouraged them to post on Fanschool. A few came up with their own idea: Make a whole slideshow. At the end of class, we were all sharing eagerly.

If you haven’t found your One Little Word yet, try asking yourself some questions. I was impressed with the sincerity of my students and how they wanted to explore and share their ideas. I feel we’ve started off the second half of our year together as a community of thinkers and writers.

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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.

When I was 12 years old, all I wanted in this world was long hair. My hair was shoulder length with an uncontrollable wave right near my earlobe. But I could not grow long, luscious locks like other girls. So I asked my mother (Santa) for a wig. On Christmas Day, my wish came true. I remember wearing that long blond wig and being humiliated by comments from other kids. Shamed, disappointed, dreams dashed, I never wore the wig again.

Yesterday my now 4 year old granddaughter got an Elsa wig for her birthday. Oh, how Stella longs for long hair. My daughter tells me she wears her swimming cap with the fabric along the sides to pretend to have long hair, so the Elsa wig was an immediate hit. Stella didn’t wear it for long, but not because she was bullied about it. It just wasn’t practical for playing on the park’s ultimate tree house; you can’t roll around on a net without your hair falling off. I wish I could have been more like Stella when I was young.

Elsa “Stella”

I look at her boldness, her wild clothing choices, and her undying spirit of I’m-always-right, and feel hope for this new generation of girls. I hope we continue to raise girls who, like Stella, do what they want and stand up for what they believe in.

At the birthday party, my daughter was dressed like Stella requested, in two different animal prints. She looked amazing. Life is far from perfect these days, but watching my fierce daughter raise an equally fierce daughter gives me hope and delectation.* (Word of the day meaning a feeling of delight or enjoyment.)

At the party, I held the 4 month old daughter of one of my daughter’s friends. This poem came to me after reading the meaning of the word delectation.

Delectation
Holding the baby
small as a doll
seeing through her eyes
to the Aegean sea

feeling the weight of her
sink into my arms
wondering what kind of world
we are creating for her.

She smiles anyway,
grabs at the print of my shirt
rooting toward my breast
(a let-down tingles)
and I relax, trusting

as this infant trusts
she will be safe.

Margaret Simon, draft

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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.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I am a teacher who writes alongside my students. I show them my draft, the messy one in the notebook. We are writers together. This is my teaching philosophy and has been for years. Because it works for us all! I get time to write, and my students see themselves as part of a writing community.

I’ve been working my way through Ethical ELA’s new book 90 Ways of Community. Many of the prompts are tried and true. “How to Be” was posted by Sheri Vasinda. Her directions originated with Barry Lane’s Reviser’s Toolbox. I found the exercise to be similar to the “Things to Do” poem form. The prompt started us off making a list of 6-10 facts.

This way into a poem encourages us to think about and research the ways a chosen animal lives in the world. I asked myself and my students to push beyond just a list of facts, but to see how they could figuratively be applied to humans. How can you be like the animal?

I was reminded of my poem “Things to Do if You’re a Snapping Turtle” from my book Bayou Song. The poem and the prompt can be found here.

Yesterday I was thinking about owls. Owls are common here on the bayou. A friendly neighborhood one starts hooting before the sun goes down.

How to be an Owl

Lift your beak to the world
Whhhooot in the dimming light of winter
This is your time to fly–quiet and with intention
Sharpen your sight 
Swallow whole
Spit out what you don’t need
Be a goddess of reason
Make wisdom your home

by Margaret Simon, draft

This was a fun prompt to start off our last week before the holiday break. Kailyn took her poem to a hilarious place. Here’s to a funny poem!

How to be a Capybara

Gain 150 pounds

Be the largest living rodent.

Be present in social gatherings.

Become committed to eating your droppings. 

Have a jolly 10 years of living.

When swimming, look very pleasant.

Stick with the diet of plants.

When you see a Guinea Pig, 

Give them a hug because you are family. 

When you are a Capybara, 

Don’t end up in a chimichanga.

by Kailyn, 6th grade (To leave comments for Kailyn, click here.)

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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.

How do you deal with small problems? I tried so hard to walk in gratitude this morning, but Albert pulled constantly on the leash and wanted to pee on everything, so I lost my patience. Then once we were home, he got out, off-the-leash, and chased the cats. I was so mad that I screamed the f bomb at him and put him into his kennel…forever!

This is not how I wish to start my day. I want to find peace. I want to drink a hot cup of coffee and read poems.

Thanksgiving break for me was a whirlwind of travel and then family. All great things! Yet yesterday at school, our first day back after the week off, three students were brought to tears. For different reasons, the stress of following directions, the stress of “let’s relate to the character in a deeper way”, and the stress of “I went camping and forget to take my book with me.” It seems to me that kids in general (myself included) do not handle stress as we used to.

What are some ways you handle the little things? I anticipated this time of pre-Christmas frenzy. But it doesn’t help when you are deep into it.

I know that I am okay and normal and my dog is “just a puppy!” Thanks for being here with me on the good days and the bad. As Alexander’s mom wisely said, “Some days are like that. Even in Australia.”

Photo by Bianca Gasparoto on Pexels.com

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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.

My husband and I are on vacation in Portland, Maine. On Sunday my dear friend and fellow Inkling (writing group) Molly Hogan and her husband Kurt took us to the most photographed lighthouse.

Portland Head Light

The views were incredible, but the best part was seeing Molly in person and getting to know her husband. We talked for hours.

The highlight of our time here yesterday was the ferry cruise. We happened upon a ride that carries supplies and mail to the islands. There was a young man who did everything, and one of his jobs was to find us and tell us stuff about the islands. I’m guessing in the winter months there are fewer tourists.

Mailboat Ferry

I like some alone time in any given day, so after shopping at Reny’s (Molly was right; we found good deals), Jeff dropped me at the Novel coffee shop where one can read and have coffee. I picked up a copy of a book I didn’t know existed about a poem that few knew existed.

Live Oak, with Moss

Walt Whitman’s Live Oak, with Moss is not the poem you think it is. The papers he wrote the poem on were torn and put back together into other more acceptable poems. Originally Whitman was writing a love poem to a man (or men).

The book drew me right in and I read it on the spot. Brian Selznick took an idea he had discussed with Maurice Sendak to illustrate the long hidden poem. Sendak never had the chance.

Here are some pages:

Live Oak with Moss by Brian Selznick
Walt Whitman pages
Amazing love poem by Walt Whitman

In every vacation there are the things you plan and the happy happenstances. This little treasure was waiting for me, I believe.

Happy Thanksgiving! May you find a small moment to treasure in your heart.

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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 at two schools, so I have a hard time keeping up with special dress-up days on the calendar. Yesterday, I got a free dress coupon from my second school, so yay! I could wear jeans and a t-shirt. I chose my Peter Reynold’s Dot Day t-shirt and my happy face sweater.

In morning carpool duty, I opened doors to Harry Potters and Belles. I asked my colleague what was going on. He said it was Book Character Day. Ha, serendipity! I was dressed as The Dot!

My classroom bulletin board quote from “The Dot.”

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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.

My mother, who is 88 years old, is living with Alzheimer’s disease. Currently she is in a memory care facility and in hospice care. She is bedridden and doesn’t eat much. She and my brother live in Mississippi, so I have to travel to visit. I will be going this weekend along with my sister. We are lucky. She’s still a genuinely kind person.

For Pádraig Ó Tuama‘s recent poem prompt “Short Poems”, I wrote:

Visiting My Mother in Memory Care

I lean in for her voice. There is only a smile.

This poem is not entirely true. My brother told me that last weekend, she turned to him and said, “You’re looking good.” Southern pleasantries must be one of the last things to go.

On Saturday, my family gathered in River Ranch in Lafayette, LA to join the Walk for Alzheimer’s. My grandson Leo (5) designed our shirts. We had a fun time walking together, visiting, and honoring my mother, my children’s grandmother, my grandchildren’s great grandmother. She will never know we did this, but my heart was full. We made a difference, and we did it together.

Me in center between my brother, Hunter Gibson, and sister, Beth Saxena.
My family at the Walk for Alzheimer’s.
Aunt “Kacky” with baby June (22 months).

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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.

This is Just to Say

I have forgotten
the words
to that song
you sang to me

and which
you are probably
humming in your head
while you sleep.

Forgive me:
I will sing
along with you
anyway.

Margaret Simon, after William Carlos Williams

I believe in daily poetry, but I fell off the Stanford Challenge for writing a poem a day. Lately the new book from Sarah Donovan, Mo Daley, and Maureen Young Ingram, 90 Ways of Community is helping. Each day I present one of the prompts to my students and write alongside them. They are responding so well to this daily practice. I hope you don’t mind if I share a few here. First up is a skinny poem by Grayson.

White void endless space just                                                                       
waiting                                                                                                             
wondering                                                                                                         
no                                                                                                                     
thoughts                                                                                                           
waiting,                                                                                                               
I’m                                                                                                                       
tired                                                                                                                   
of                                                                                                                         
waiting                                                                                                             
in this endless void, white space that is just too empty. 

by Grayson, 5th grade

We’ve explored ourselves and written I am From poems.

I am from
crunching leaves
and windy days.

I am from
books, and books,
and even more books.

I am from the Bayou,
and I am from the
trees.
I come from murky waters
and lush green leaves
and sturdy branches.

I am from
the scratching of
a pen,
and the flick of a brush.

I am from
the smell of
cigarette smoke
and an autumn evening.

I am
from a household,
a household holding
four. 
A mother of books,
a father of autumn,
a daughter of both,
and a sister
of all.

by Adelyn, 6th grade

Each week I invite my students to write to a photograph. They are free to choose their own form even as I model a form for them.

Old tree
Stays in the backyard
Is surrounded by water and ferns
Waiting outside on the porch for the sunrise
Lovely morning

by Marifaye, 5th grade

If you would like to write a poem to a photo, please join me on this blog on Wednesdays: This Photo Wants to be a Poem. I wish for you daily poetry.

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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.

For multiple reasons, I had a rough week last week. On Saturday, I woke up early and went to a local farmer’s market to sell books and make “zines” with kids. It was really great fun, but hot! By the time I finished, I had not eaten or had anything to drink, so I went to my daughter’s house to cool off, literally.

Maggie and I started talking about my week and the day at the market. She suggested I pull a card from her oracle deck, “Mysteries of Love” from alenahennessy.com.

The card I pulled could not have been more perfect, literally and figuratively.

Today on Ethical ELA’s Open Write, the prompt was given by Larin, Thought You Should Know.

I wrote a poem to the Oracle Deck:

To the Oracle Deck (Snap Dragon: Cooling Down)

I want you to know
I’m trying to balance
will & ego,
soothe my inner fire,
but the system pushes
back again and again.

I want you to know
they say we have to move Mom
to skilled nursing. No! I shout
to you. This is not the path
I expected.

I want you to know
I tried to smile at everyone
I met in the halls at school.
I held onto a door handle
and did tree pose
just to test my balance.

I want you to know
how much I want to love
a puppy that chews my shoelaces
as I write this. If I stay cool,
will he stop and look up
with loving eyes?

I want you to know that no matter
what you told me on Saturday,
my will is fading fast
on Tuesday. I should pick
another card.

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