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Slice of Life: The Space Between Our Footsteps

Posted in Gifted Education, Poetry, Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged Hamza El Din, Naomi Shihab Nye, Refugee on March 9, 2024| 8 Comments »

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.

I
Am
Free
Kailyn, 5th grade

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Poetry Friday: Curious

Posted in Poetry Friday, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged acrostic poetry, school counselor, torn paper collage art on March 8, 2024| 21 Comments »

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Laura Purdie Salas

Ignorance is not saying, I don’t know. Ignorance is saying, I don’t care.
Unknown, from 365 Days of Wonder

Last week the counselor at our school hosted a teacher group after school. I attended along with my next door neighbor, our speech therapist. We share a space. We usually visit daily, so over the last few years, we’ve gotten to be close friends. In this teacher support group meeting, we were the only ones there along with the counselor.

After some chatting, the counselor showed us a visual of a rose and asked us to share our blossoms, our buds, and our thorns. It was the first time I had experienced the tool, and it really worked. In the safety of her calming space, we talked about good things, hopeful things, and our challenges. Did I mention she had aroma steam and hot herbal tea?

I felt so moved by the experience I wanted to share my appreciation. I worked all week on a collage of roses and wrote an acrostic poem to give her; the least I could do for a totally free group therapy session.

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Spiritual Journey: Gathering Goodness

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Spiritual Growth, tagged acrostic, azaleas, OLW, peace, tradition on March 7, 2024| 15 Comments »

Spiritual Journey posts for this first Thursday of March are gathered by Ramona at Pleasures from the Page.

Easter, 1972
I’m quite sure my brother was hiding a peace sign behind my head.

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.
James 1:17

When I was growing up, the front of our home was lined with pink azaleas. We would pose every year (or so it seemed) for an Easter photo near the bouquets of pink. Today my small town heralds an Azalea Trail. March is the time for azaleas to pop. The blooming is fleeting, though. They’ll be gone in two weeks. My One Little Word for 2024 is Peace. Here’s a gathering of goodness for Peace and pink azaleas.

Peeping pink azaleas
Emerge on this March day
A reliable blossom
Carries
Easter tradition
Margaret Simon, draft acrostic 2024

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Swinging High

Posted in being mamére, Photography, Slice of Life, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, tagged Bayou Teche, grandchildren, haiku, swinging on March 6, 2024| 32 Comments »

“Swing me, swing me high!” my granddaughter Stella called to me as I pushed the swing. Our next door neighbors have moved. For as long as we have lived in this house, 19 years, we have shared yard space with our neighbors. They recently moved to be closer to their grandchildren, but they left behind one of my grandchildren’s favorite things, the baby swings. They hang from a strong live oak arm. This photo looks out at Stella, 3, swinging and watching the bayou for boats. Off to the left is our ever faithful grandmother oak. She holds a rope swing that my grandchildren are not yet strong enough to hold onto. They enjoy throwing it back and forth, holding on and falling down.

If I ever need reminding to love my life, I should look upon this photo. I invite you to find where it takes you. Is it back to a past time? Do you have grandchildren or children who love to swing? I haven’t met a child yet that doesn’t love swinging. I recently saw an Instagram post about how swinging helps kids regulate their bodies.

Swinging stimulates different parts of a child’s brain simultaneously. Swinging helps the brain develop skills such as spatial awareness, balance, rhythm, and muscle control. Even a quiet moment on a swing can help a child regulate their sensory system and help them develop the ability to adapt to different sensations.
From Mosaic Health and Rehab

Besides the benefits, swinging is simple, free fun! Write a small poem in the comments. Come back to this post if you can to read other poems and offer your encouraging support. Sign up to follow my blog if you’d like to join this weekly writing prompt.

Set me in motion
Swing me to the highest high
Where I freely fly
Margaret Simon, haiku draft

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Slice of Life: The Mountain

Posted in Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #beingmamére, grandchildren, imaginative play, Simon Summer Camp on March 4, 2024| 13 Comments »

Last summer we instituted the first annual Simon Summer Camp, complete with t-shirts. One of the daily activities was a walk. A neighbor and long time friend has an empty lot next to his house. He’s had a mound of dirt on this lot for a while now.

We call it the mountain. Leo is five, so he remembers. When he and his sister Stella visited this weekend, Leo said, “Let’s go to the mountain.” Stella, in her 3 year old wisdom thought this might be a long trip, so she would need the Disney chair.

Watching these siblings create games is thoroughly entertaining. It wasn’t long before they were racing from across the street to make it to the mountain. Leo always won.

Then Leo found a shovel under the tarp and wanted to dig. There was only one shovel. This caused a little screaming from Stella, so Mamere had an idea. “Let’s go back home and get little shovels (trowels) and pots, and we can make plants.”

They loved the idea, so we hiked back home and got two trowels and two black plastic pots. The kids successfully dug some dirt and filled their pots. Unfortunately, there was a gathering of stinging ants near Leo, but he didn’t complain. It wasn’t until later that I noticed both of his hands covered in ant bites. Somehow when you are on a brave adventure, a little pain is to be expected and endured.

I happened to have an envelop of marigold seeds left over from last summer, so they were able to plant seeds as well as decorate their pots with clover flowers.

I know these childhood adventures are fleeting. I hope they will remember their visits to Mamere and Papere’s as times of fun, love, and safety. My daughter values our time with them because she had these moments with her grandparents. Those memories feel like dreams now as she manages a tough job and raising two smart, sassy, and curious kids. I’m exhausted after only a mere 24 hours. They’re totally worth it.

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Slice of Life: Welcome to the Wonder House

Posted in Creativity, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #100DaysofNotebooking, Georgia Heard, Rebecca Kai Dotlich, Welcome to the Wonder House, wishes on March 2, 2024| 16 Comments »

This week was Wonder Week in my classroom as we explored Welcome to the Wonder House by Rebecca Kai Dotlich and Georgia Heard. Each day I let a student choose which “room” we would visit. In this book, there are rooms you would not expect to find: The Room of Ordinary Things, The Room of Imagination, The Room of Wishes. Each page contains poems by Rebecca and Georgia. Each poem invites the reader to think, feel, wonder.

After I read aloud the poems, we notice things like structure, metaphor, imagery. Then they write in their notebooks.

Georgia talks about creating a space for poetry every day. It doesn’t have to take long. I believe in the power of poetry to teach, but also to inspire and somehow settle into you and become part of you.

I write alongside my students every day. We’ve been using markers, colored pencils, washi tape to make our pages pop and please us. Here is a page of my own notebook.

Our notebooking is not perfection which is something I model. Some pages are messy. Some pages do not come out like we want them to, but the practice of playing with poetry, following a line, stealing a metaphor, making an acrostic from a single word, satisfies the imagination and fills the soul.

If you are interested in participating in the Kidlit Progressive Poem in the month of April, the sign up is here.

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Poetry Friday: Persona Poem (Slice of Life)

Posted in Poetry Friday, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged Inklings, persona poem on March 1, 2024| 20 Comments »

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Linda at Teacher Dance.

Hello, March! If I’ve counted right, this is my eleventh year to participate in the Slice of Life Challenge hosted by Two Writing Teachers. I’ve challenged myself to write a post every day in March. I will also write every day in April because that’s National Poetry Month. I’ve learned that a daily writing practice enriches my life, connects me with others, and makes me a better writer. Thanks to all my readers. You inspire and encourage me.

Today I’m the challenger of my writing group, the Inklings. We each take a turn at creating a prompt for the first Friday of each month. I asked my friends Molly Hogan, Mary Lee Hahn, Catherine Flynn, Linda Mitchell, and Heidi Mordhorst to write persona poems. Persona poems are written in a different voice. The author can speak through an object, another person, an emotion, etc.

I attended a workshop led by Babalwa Tetyana (link is to the YouTube recording) sponsored by Narrative 4. She guided us to write persona poems. I chose to write from the perspective of a portrait of myself at age 12. I sent my draft to the Inklings. They were confused about who the speaker was. Me or me? Yes, it was me. Tricky.

I decided maybe a form could contain the poem and make the emotions clearer. A nod to Irene Latham’s Poetry Friday’s post last week; she wrote a double tricube. Here’s my rewrite.

Portrait of Margaret Simon by Elizabeth Wolfe

My Portrait Speaks

I look out
behind glass,
12 year old

intense eyes
watch you
avoid my glance.

Your child-self
grieves with you–
penciled lines

trace my face.
Dear innocent
insecure soul,

look my way.
I hold love
in my eyes.

I’m your source
a savior sent
behind glass.
Margaret Simon, draft

Sign up for the April Kidlit Progressive Poem.

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Slice of Life: Safe Space for Writing

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged #100DaysofNotebooking, safe classroom, washi tape designs on February 27, 2024| 7 Comments »

Having a safe space to imagine and dream and (re)invent yourself is the first step to being happy and successful, whatever road you choose to pursue.
Ashley Bryan, We Rise We Resist We Raise Our Voices foreword

Hope, a mark of hope, a small piece of washi tape from a student now in my notebook reminding me that I am in a safe space.

Creating a safe space for writers is my top goal as an ELA teacher. When I hear a student read aloud their most fresh and vulnerable words, I am honored. Sometimes they don’t want to share; however, they will hand me their notebook to read. They are watching my eyes for the glow of adoration. I do adore what they write. They are confident children. I need to remember, though, that they are children. They need my validation. My words of encouragement. A sign of hope.

A mark of hope
a place to be
A dream to dream
a road to see
you see in me
a hand with a gift
a mark of hope
a place to be
Margaret Simon, draft

Playing with washi tape shapes in my notebook.

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Slice of Life: Church

Posted in being mamére, Slice of Life, tagged Episcopal Church of the Epiphany on February 20, 2024| 4 Comments »

On Sunday, I took Leo to church with me. I packed a cloth bag with 2 fruit snacks, a blank book, crayons, pens, and 2 Dum Dums. I was ready to entertain a bored 5 year old.

I sing in the choir. We sing from a loft. We are a small group that makes a joyful noise. We practice for an hour before the service. During practice, Leo drew, colored, and watched the organist play. When we took a break, he said, “That took forever.”

When the service began, I was prepared for him to want to go home, but he didn’t whine at all. He told me he wanted to watch from the stairs.

Our church is an old Episcopal church founded in the 1850’s. My husband’s family arrived in Louisiana in the 1880’s and his great grandfather and great grandmother, George and Mary, were married in the church. This space is not only sacred, it is historic.

This was Leo’s first visit that he will remember. Amazing changes happen at all ages of early development, but the one I’ve noticed since Leo turned 5 is his curiosity and understanding of things, relationships, and perhaps the concept of “Jesus Loves Me” that I read to him from the box of crayons.

He said, “There are 3 S’s.”

After the service, we went into the parish hall for treats and juice. Friends were greeting us, saying hello to Leo, admiring his good behavior and his curly hair.

As I was buckling him into his car seat to head home, he asked me, “How do you know all those people?”

I answered, “I’ve been going to this church for 41 years.”

He said, “That means you’re old.”

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