Celebration Saturday is here! I am happy Ruth Ayres started this tradition. It makes me stop every Saturday and think about the week in a positive way. Yesterday Ruth wrote:
I think too busy means I’m missing real life. Too busy means I’m swept up by the current panic or the flashy trend.
Too busy means I’m surviving.
Life should be more than survival.
Because when we are trapped in survival, it is too easy to believe we can’t do anything powerful or meaningful or worthy. It is too easy for the day to wrap around us and to feel like the only choice is to react
Life should be more than reaction.
I’m wondering if the way to step over (or maybe to step on) too busy, is to find the celebration.
Her words spoke to me because I feel I went into the panic mode last week and began the crazy mantra that I’m too busy. Her words made me stop. OK, breathe and look around you for things to celebrate.
Last night I made Tortilla Soup. That is something to celebrate, time to cook and time for soup!
The air has gotten cooler. The flowers in my front flower bed opened up to this cool air. They remind me every morning to open up to the air and see the light.
Brooklyn celebrated her 12th birthday yesterday. I brought sprinkle donuts and satsumas. She brought homemade chocolate chip cookies. We took a break from all our writing to celebrate Brooklyn. I gave her a journal. She waved it at me and said, “You gave me the gift of writing!”
Before we took the break, V. was writing at the computer. She saw the google doodle and played with the changing ink blots. She announced, “I see a cat with wings.”
I said, “You should write a poem about the cat with wings.”
She got up and threw herself on the pillows in the reading center exclaiming, “I can’t take all this writing!” Hilarious. I had to take her picture.
What are you celebrating this week? Take a moment to stop, breathe in the cooler air, and celebrate your life.
See more Poetry Friday with Diane Mayr at Random Noodling
Ava Leavell Haymon, Louisiana Poet Laureate
“Somewhere, out beyond ideas
of wrongdoing and right-doing,
there is a field.
I will meet you there.” –Rumi
Thus is the epigraph that opens Ava Leavell Haymon’s latest work of poetry, Eldest Daughter. Ava is the most recently appointed Louisiana Poet Laureate, and she is coming to New Iberia next weekend to a Fall Poetry Night. (Fist-arm pump) Yes! If you met Ava, the thing you would remember about her is her laugh, and she laughs often.
Ava’s poetry is masterly crafted, yet easily accessible. Lemony Snicket selected one of Ava’s poems, The Witch has Told You a Story, to feature in his article, All Good Slides Are Slipperyfor Poetry Magazine. Mr. Snicket says that “poetry is like a curvy slide in a playground — an odd object, available to the public — and, as I keep explaining to my local police force, everyone should be able to use it, not just those of a certain age.” I shared this article with my students this week. We wrote our own poems by stealing a line from one or more of the poems in the article. This was a great activity and produced some funny poems. Stay tuned.
Ava has given me permission to share two of her poems with you. This first is from the collection Why the House is Made of Gingerbread. I love this collection. Who would have thought that the classic Hansel and Gretel would have yielded such moving and thoughtful poetry?
THE WITCH HAS TOLD YOU A STORY
You are food, she said.
You are here for me to eat.
Fatten up, and I will
like you better. Your brother will
be first. You must wait your turn.
You must feed him yourself.
You must learn to do it. Take him
eggs with yellow sauce, and muffins,
butter leaking out the crooked break
in the sides. Fried meats
later in the morning and sweets
in a heady parade from the oven.
His vigilance, an ice pick of hunger
pricking his sides, will melt
in the unctuous cream fillings.
He will forget. He will thank you
for it. His little finger stuck every day
through the cracks in the bars
will grow sleek and round,
his hollow face swell
like the moon. He will stop dreaming
the fear in the woods without food.
He will lean toward the mouth
of the oven, the door
that yawns wide every afternoon
to better and better smells.
–Ava Leavell Haymon, all rights reserved
The second poem comes from Ava’s latest work Eldest Daughter. I haven’t read them all yet, but the ones I have are so full! Full of childhood fears, sensibilities, and humor. LSU Press says “she combines the sensory and the spiritual in wild verbal fireworks.” And to hear her read them, you see the fireworks glow in her eyes. She is a delight, and I can’t wait to introduce her to my town.
THE CHILD BORN
with a caul
the child who eats the skin that forms on scalded milk
the child who bites cuticles instead of fingernails
the child who sucks her hair at night
the child who sings in her sleep
the child who does not mind the squeak of blackboard chalk
the child who swallowed a blue bead
the child who will not throw up
the child who refuses to listen
the child with the gristle knob at the arch of her ribs
the child who knows where the matches are
the child who looks too long at her father
the child who likes to spit
the child who looks in the eyes of the dog
the child who sits for hours
the child who sometimes laughs when she’s by herself
the child whose cold hands
the child who eats clay
the child who can look cross-eyed
the child who starts fires
the child who hides in a chinaberry tree
the child who listens
the child who grows quieter and quieter
the child who can be trusted with knives and scissors
the child who never reaches under her bed
the child who goes where no one is
the child who cuts things out
the child who hums little songs no one can recognize
Ava Leavell Haymon, all rights reserved
Fall Poetry Night will be Saturday, November 16th at 6:00 PM at A&E Gallery. Other poets reading will be Mickey Delcambre, Suzi Thornton, Diane Moore, and Margaret Gibson Simon.
Ava reading from Eldest Daughter on YouTube (This one is for adults only despite what Lemony Snicket may say.):
Saturday Celebration is happening weekly at Ruth Ayres site: Discover. Play. Build.
This week was full of celebrations.
1. Chalkabration Day: Read our spooky chalketry here. We loved having Kaylie visit on this special day.
2. A winner: My 6th grader, Brooklyn, placed FIRST in the Jr. High Division of the Festival of Words Contest with her poem, “I’m Home.”
3. I received an awesome evaluation from a school board observer. Here’s a quote from her report, “You have a strong rapport with these students. There is a bond of mutual respect between you and them. The classroom climate is joyful; the students are encouraged to learn the way that works for them.” Her words brought tears to my eyes. This is who I want to be as a teacher and to have an outside observer see that in me is very rewarding.
4. The Louisiana Book Festival: As you are reading this, I am awarding 65 students for their excellence in writing. I coordinate a state writing contest, Louisiana Writes! The fruition of many hours happens in the State Museum at the opening of the Book Festival. Many proud students, teachers, and parents will be listening to readings and taking pictures of young authors holding shiny medals, an anthology, and a certificate from the governor. A wonderful celebration!
It’s time to be thankful, a month of Thanks. Today I am grateful for beautiful weather and for my friends who have helped me lead the LA Writes contest for 10 years, Connie, Sara, Joan, and Ann.
See more Poetry Friday with Linda at Teacher Dance.
The Festival of Words is around the corner (next weekend!). Naomi Shihab Nye is coming to the small town of Grand Coteau, Louisiana to be a part of this great celebration of poetry. Naomi is a Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets, and she is coming to see us and share poetry with us. I have signed up for her workshop next Saturday and have gotten special permission to bring a student with me.
The Festival of Words was organized six years ago by a small group who believed that Poetry is for Everybody. With drive-by poetry and open air readings, the festival brings the power of poetry to the streets.
The Festival also holds a student writing contest. The contest is open to 6th-12th graders. The highest level I teach is 6th grade. My student, Brooklyn, entered her poem about sugarcane and placed FIRST in the Jr. High Division. I have been teaching Brooklyn since she was in 4th grade, and it delights me to see her writing develop to contest-winning level. I am so proud of her. Her winning poem is here:
I’m home
A green line of cane,
above the tan dirt,
under the bright blue
Louisiana sky.
Colorful, like a
shining rainbow after
a harsh rain,
like a path full of
roses and daisies.
There is a hushing noise,
made by the stalks slowly
and gently rubbing together,
hush, hush, hush.
With the touch of the angel’s wing
so delicate and free, reassuring
you that anything is possible.
Always giving off the soft,
welcoming, harmless,
I’m home feeling.
I’m home,
I’m home,
I’m home.
Brooklyn, all rights reserved
From the Festival of Words Kickstarter Site on Why it Matters: “Writing poems and stories gives people of all ages a positive means to communicate, share, and respect each other’s words and individuality. • Creative writing raises student literacy levels • Creative writing teaches problem-solving, analysis, and creative thinking • Students who participate in the arts are more likely to excel academically and professionally.”
Join the Chalk-a-bration over at Teaching Young Writers
I love joining Betsy’s monthly Chalkabration at the end of each month. This week my students reminded me! We had a class visitor. Kaylie, who is now a middle school student, had a fall break, so she came to visit. The kids were excited to write with her again and to have her join our Chalkabration. With the theme of Halloween, ideas flowed quickly, and we were off to decorate the sidewalk with our spooky poems.
Today is Celebration Saturday over at Ruth Ayres’ Site, Discover, Play, Build.
Yesterday was a wonderful fall day! The air was clear and crisp. A perfect day for a field trip. The gifted program for our district takes the 4th-6th graders on a field trip every other year to St. Francisville, LA and Natchez, MS. Early Friday morning at 6 AM, our students and teachers, along with some parent and grandparent chaperones, boarded a chartered bus and headed north to St. Francisville.
In St. Francisville, we toured the haunted Myrtles Plantation home. One of the stories we heard was about a slave who had her ear cut off. This ghost apparently steals earrings, actually takes only one for her remaining ear, and is especially fond of hoop earrings. And sure enough, one of the moms had on hoop earrings. One was gone, Poof!, by the end of the tour. I had the freezons, which is Cajun for chills.
Students pose at the outdoor fountain.
After touring and walking the beautiful grounds of the Myrtles, we headed down the road to Grace Epicopal Church to their old cemetery. There the students did gravestone rubbings. Next week we will research these and write historical fiction stories.
In Natchez, we ate lunch on the grounds of the Grand Village of the Natchez Indians, and the kids had the chance to run up and down Indian mounds and learn about the pottery and basketry of the Natchez Indians. A favorite souvenir for my boys were arrowhead pendants.
Then on to Longwood Plantation. Longwood is an impressive site, the largest plantation home in Natchez; however, the only completed part is the basement. The Civil War broke out, and the owner died of pneumonia. His widow raised 8 children in the completed part of the basement which was only 10,000 square feet. Imagine the completed house would have been 30,000 sq. feet. You go up the stairs and can see the framework of the incomplete mansion. It is most fascinating. Again at this plantation, the students sketched. Back at school, they will compare and contrast the life of a child at each plantation we visited.
Even though the trip was long and we didn’t get back home until 8:30 PM, the friendships made and nurtured as well as the history learned and appreciated made this field trip a valuable experience for everyone.
Finally in the deep south the temperatures are cooling off. Everyone is putting out their decorated pumpkins and synthetic spider webs. Halloween is around the corner. Time to write some fall poetry. I introduced fall poetry by posting Amy Ludwig Vanderwater’s poem “Preserving Fall” on our kidblog site. Her poem is about pressing leaves in waxed paper. I remember doing this as a child and with my own kids, but my students have never done this. We are going on a field trip today to Natchez, Mississippi where there may be more colorful leaves to collect. I promised we could press leaves next week.
In the meantime, I shared Amy’s book Forest Has a Song. We picked out favorites to read aloud. From JoAnn Early Macken’s book Write a Poem Step by Step, I asked the writers to use a cluster method for gathering ideas when pre-writing. I like how clustering can bring forth words you may not find otherwise.
One of my clusters turned to my backyard satsuma tree, full of ripening fruit.
Satsuma Time
Look outside the kitchen window;
First sign of fall,
peeks of yellow,
sparkle like diamonds
ripening in the sun.
Heavy hanging on the tree,
Abundance gathered one by one.
Satsuma sweet,
Autumn citrus treat.
–Margaret Simon
See more Poetry Friday at Live your poem with Irene Latham.
Fellow blogger, Ruth Ayres starts up her Celebration Saturday round-up today. Click on the image above to find other writers celebrating today.
Excitement is in the air at A&E Gallery for the Fall into the Arts Artwalk tonight. Above is a picture of gallery owner, Paul Schexnayder on the right, showing my father, John Gibson, on the left where he will be displaying Dad’s art for tonight.
Dad brought 8 pieces to show, a few to sell, and some prints. I am excited to introduce him and his art to my friends here in New Iberia. We will be signing and selling our collaborative book Illuminate. My brother, Hunter Gibson, completed the companion CD, and it is absolutely beautiful. My nieces added in their voices on the recording. This whole project touches me deeply. I hope others will feel all the love that has gone into the book, the love of art, poetry, music, and family. A true thing to celebrate!
I’d like to introduce you to a my friend and cousin, photographer Marjorie Pierson. Marjie has an amazing eye for light in nature. She lives in North Carolina, teaches a fine art class at Duke, and sponsors a girls’ art club at Durham Academy. Her mother lives here (actually, across the street),so Marjie visits often. She always finds time to explore the bayous and marshes and take photographs. She creates large prints on canvas that look like oil paintings.
Marjie did not visit my class on her latest visit, but her photographs did. She has developed an inspiring website. I told my students about Marjie’s interest in wetlands preservation and talked to them about writing ekphrastic poetry. I used a 6-room organizer from Georgia Heard’s book Awakening the Heart. Then I played classical music while the students watched a slideshow of wetlands beauty and wrote.
Magic happened as magic often does when writing combines with art. Here are some of the poems my students wrote.
Song of the Wetlands
The beautiful details of the wetlands.
Shadows reflecting off of the water.
I am silent.
I smell sweet and damp.
I feel wet, mossy, grassy and slimy.
I taste bitter, salty water and sweet.
Like
I am pretty places
flowing everywhere,
a wetland full of
green.
I am precious and you can preserve me to save me before I am gone.
–Tyler
Silhouette of the Sea
The fine art of blue dancing waters
embrace the feel of warmth
reflections of green
sounds of nature
a wind in the silhouette
smells like freshly cut grass
small droplets drip
drip
dropping
on the smallest blade of grass
–Vannisa
I’m Home
A green line of cane,
above the tan dirt,
under the bright blue
Louisiana sky.
Colorful, like a
shining rainbow after
a harsh rain,
like a path full of
roses and daisies.
There is a hushing noise,
made by the stalks slowly
and gently rubbing together,
hush. hush, hush.
With the touch of the angel’s wing
so delicate and free, reassuring
you that anything is possible.
Always giving off the soft, welcoming,
harmless, I’m home feeling.
I’m home,
I’m home,
I’m home.
Join the Poetry Friday blog hop at Merely Day by Day.
Ever since I discovered the website, Wonderopolis, I have wanted to find a way to use it with my gifted students. On Tuesday, I saw the widget for the Wonderopolis link on Amy Rudd’s site. It caught my eye. The wonder of the day was the Great Barrier Reef. I got lost in the video swimming along the reef. I decided to make Wednesday into Wonderopolis Wednesday. I showed the Wonder of the Day and the video and asked my students to use at least 3 of the Wonder Words in their writing. I always write alongside them.
In walks my principal for a “walk-through evaluation.” We were finishing up the quiet writing time and getting ready to share. My normally vivacious class clammed up. No one wanted to share. What was I to do? I shared my own attempt at a rhyming poem with this disclosure, “I’m trying to write a rhyming poem and you know how hard this is for me.” When I read aloud, one student suddenly became an expert on rhyming poetry. He explained to me how I had to not only rhyme, but I had to have a consistent beat to each line. My students chimed in to help me write my poem. We continued revising the next morning. I think in the end we created a pretty good poem. But I must credit my students for their guidance.
By the way, my principal thought it was awesome that I had them critiquing me. She thought it was a little “teacher act.” But I explained, “No, I really needed the help. I’m terrible at rhyming.”
Living Treasure: The Great Barrier Reef
Discover our ocean friend.
Twenty thousand years to no end.
Golden-tailed hope rises on the wind.
Coral flowers sway with the tide.
Sea turtles, stingrays gracefully glide.
Among the lacy red, a mollusk will hide.
White-fingered anemone hug dancing fish.
Swimming, swaying, a rainbow swish.
A beauty, a wonder, a diver’s lifelong wish.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She is a retired elementary gifted teacher who writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 