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Slice of Life: Word Play

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged definito, Heidi Mordhorst, Nikki Grimes, Pi-ku, wandering word poem, Word play poetry forms on March 19, 2024| 7 Comments »

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

Leigh Anne Eck has invited Slicers to come to a blog party about words. Where would poets be without words? I am not a word nerd, but I am a word collector. I love to play with sounds in poetry, especially alliteration. I subscribe to two word-of-the-day emails, and work with gifted students on how words are created and carry different meanings. Words are fun for me.

Here are some suggestions for activities to do with students around word play.

Definito poem: My friend and fellow Inkling (writing group) created this form. The poem form is 8-12 lines written for children that defines a word. The defined word appears in the last line. I wrote a definito last year during National Poetry Month around the word shenanigans.

2. Wandering Word Poem: I first learned about this word exploration form from Nikki Grimes in this Today’s Little Ditty post. Take a word for a walk, exploring all the ways it can be used, literally and figuratively.

3. Pi-ku: On Pi Day each year (3/14) we write pi-ku which is a poem with the syllable count of pi: 3.14159…

I played with the sounds of p-words.

P-popping
words
popularly
drop
perpetuity
Margaret Simon, pi-ku

How do you “play” with words in your writing? If you work with students, I hope you can use the forms I’ve shared here and just let them play with poetry.

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Slice of Life: Dinner Party

Posted in Gratitude, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged dinner party on March 17, 2024| 7 Comments »

Who doesn’t love a party?

Actually…me.

I’m an introvert and some parties (mostly the idea of a party) overwhelm me.

Last night we hosted a dinner party for 10 people.

My husband Jeff did the cooking. Weeks ago he tried a new crepe recipe with mushrooms, leeks, and asparagus. When we tried them, he said, “We could serve this to our friends.” We looked at the calendar and found an open Saturday. I texted our friends. His instructions were “fill our table.”

Each one asked what they could bring, so I doled out the appetizers, wine, and dessert. All I had to do was the salad and cleaning. In honesty, both of us worked hard on getting everything just right.

At some point in the afternoon, Janita left a gorgeous bougainvillea on our front porch. I hung it out on the back deck. The weather was a perfect 70 something, no rain. We decided to have the meal outside. I texted the group that dinner would be casual and outside.

After we ate, the mosquitoes forced us inside. Our friends from different slices of our life gathered and started telling stories. The party continued.

Maya Angelou wisely said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

I will forget what we served. I’ll forget the stories told. But I will never forget the feeling of comfort and joy with people I care about.

I think we may do this again…next year.

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Slice of Life/Poetry Friday: Three Pecans

Posted in Poetry Friday, Progressive poem, Writing, tagged Cane River Pecan Company, Mahmoud Darwish, ode, Poetry Foundation on March 15, 2024| 16 Comments »

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Tanita at (fiction instead of lies)

This week I met with two local poets, one a former student who is nearing 14, and the other a visiting musician from Argentina who is 26 (I think). We met at a local coffee shop to write poetry together. I brought a poem I received from the Poetry Foundation, To Our Land by Mahmoud Darwish.

To our land,
and it is the one near the word of god,
a ceiling of clouds

To our land,
and it is the one far from the adjectives of nouns,
the map of absence

To our land,
and it is the one tiny as a sesame seed,
a heavenly horizon … and a hidden chasm
Mahmoud Darwish, read the rest of the poem here.

We talked about what we noticed. The anaphora of To our Land became our prompt for writing “To Our _______”.

Our discussion was surprisingly sophisticated, so truly engaged in the words, the feelings, and how each of us responded differently. Fran said, “We must do this again next week.” A writing group was formed.

I said, “We need to have a name.”

Kaia looked up at the pecans surrounding us (we were in the Pie Bar of a pecan company.) “What about three pecans?”

To Our Poets
after Mahmoud Darwish

To our poets
speaking with their pens
pencils tearing the page.

To our poets,
and he is the one grieving his land
a prize of war,
a jewel that glimmers for the far upon the far.

To our poets,
and she praises the birds, the imagination
calling to us announcing our place
in a family of things.

To our poets,
the ones who gives themselves permission
to be poets, folding pages of a notebook
that unfold their untold secrets.

And for us
who listen
and find fresh air to breathe.
Margaret Simon, draft

Click here to sign up for a day to add a line to April’s Progressive Poem.

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Slice of Life: The Same, not the same

Posted in Photography, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #bayoulife, #nature, Kim Douillard on March 14, 2024| 6 Comments »

I love it when I read something someone else writes and begin to contemplate the same thing in my own life. Do we walk parallel lines? Kim Douillard lives on the west coast. I live on the southern Gulf coast. She wrote, “The experience of taking the same photo over and over echoes what it means to be a teacher. Each day is filled with sameness.”

When I read her blog post, I was sitting on my back deck on the same day we shut down schools 4 years ago, listening to the same birdsong, the same train whistle, and watching the same sun slowly disappear. I took a picture of the same view I had then and still have today, but I am different. We all are. We drew a line in the sand of before and after. Who would have predicted that day (March 13, 2020) the trials we would experience? The illness that would take so many lives and send us into a tailspin of doubt and despair.

But in many ways, I remember that time fondly. My oldest daughter called me while I was sitting on the deck avoiding people to tell me she was pregnant. She didn’t know then if the baby would survive. It was the early scary days of new pregnancy. And now we have an adorable, smart, and hilarious 3 year old.

I spent that spring writing poetry, making what I could out of the strangeness of the world. Today I looked back into my media file and found two other pictures of this place in my world. Same but different.

Our students still grapple with the change of things. The educational system hasn’t figured out how to move forward. Have any of us?

Buddhist wisdom says that change is the only constant. My view comforts me. To see this old cypress sprout its bright green needles year by year holds hope. Nature shows us that things can change and be alive and well again. We can’t always see the movement, but it’s there, letting us know that God is here.

“We are what we think. All that we are arises with our thoughts. With our thoughts, we make the world.” –Buddha

Thoughts
climb out
on a branch
spilling a seed droplet
Budding
Margaret Simon, elfchen of the day

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Slice of Life: I am a Poet

Posted in Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #poet, #sunset, John Warner Smith on March 12, 2024| 14 Comments »

I was bold.

I introduced myself as a poet.

I said my name…twice.

Then he took out his phone to type me in.

A former poet laureate of the state.

He’s offered to come to workshop with my students, even though he’s never taught elementary before. Can I make this happen? Yes, I will.

Last night I was at a dinner party for artists who are visiting our town for The Shadows on the Teche Plein Air Competition. We are hosting an artist in our home. The evening was beautiful, violinist, food, wine, and a sun setting over the bayou. The director of the Shadows is John Warner Smith. He served as state poet laureate from 2019-2021, so he talked about how “Covid hit” and all workshops moved to Zoom. He gave me his card and said, “Get in touch. We can do something.”

My students already have a heightened admiration of me because I often introduce them to poets I’ve met, but wait until they meet Mr. Smith, a living poet laureate. I’ll have to teach them what poet laureate means. I hope he’s as good a teacher as he is a dinner party conversationalist.

I was bold.

I said I am a poet.

Do you tell others that you are a writer?

Artist dinner party sunset (photo by Margaret Simon)

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Slice of Life: Lucky Day

Posted in Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged Alpha Delta Kappa, daily elfchen, Padreg O Tuama, The Isolation Journals on March 10, 2024| 15 Comments »

What is luck? The right place, the right time or something we can put an effort toward? In Pádraig Ó Tuama’s weekly newsletter, he writes about the contronym of the word want. Want can be a wish or a lack of. He asks what word are you thinking about this week? For me, it’s luck.

I attended my sorority’s state convention yesterday (Alpha Delta Kappa for educators), and I felt lucky four times. I was a first timer, so I went up to get a little prize. I had received a classroom grant, a certificate. I won a door prize. And I raised the most funds for the International Altruistic Foundation, the Alzheimer’s Association, another certificate. A combination of luck and hard work.

Door prize, lemon tea towel and scented hand soap and lotion.

I have to admit I was overwhelmed by the attention. It was all so unexpected. I know we teachers work hard to make the best experiences we can for our students. We don’t do this for recognition. We do it because we care about kids.

My Friday was a rough day. My students were tired from the week of holding all the expectations that are placed on gifted kids. All they really needed was a brain break. I need to remember this and lay a more gentle hand on them and on myself.

Do you know about the junk bug? Another weekly newsletter I receive is Suleika Jaouad’s Isolation Journals.

Rhonda Willers writes about the junk bug, how it carries the carcasses of its prey on its back and transforms into a lacewing.

The sensation of fear is a reminder not to stop, but instead to be aware, slow down, to notice more.
Rhonda Willers

Maybe this slice is going all over the place, but my mind feels like this at the moment, a strange combination of luck (blessings) and fear. Standing on a line between, balancing and hoping to stay stable, calm, and okay.

Lacewing
fragile balance
lime body lifts
shaking off dead skin
Begin
Margaret Simon, elfchen of the day

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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 »

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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Slice of Life: Perfectionism

Posted in Gifted Education, Teaching, Writing, tagged daily elfchen, gifted classroom, perfectionism on March 5, 2024| 10 Comments »

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

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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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