Like most people, we planned to pay off some debt with our economic stimulus check. However, once the check was in our hands, it was a different story. We decided to spend half of it on things we'd been wanting for a while. Tim got his coveted PS3 and I got a Mini Dyson and patio furniture. The rest of the money went into savings for repairs on our carport/garage.
We survived the last week of school! "Woo hoo!" as Cecilia, one of my fellow Comm. Arts teachers would say. The students were dismissed at 11am this morning, and then we had a district luncheon and meetings/paperwork to attend to the rest of the afternoon.
The Magnetic Poetry Life
Members of the Board of Education, Administrators, Faculty and Staff of PHS, Parents, Family, Friends, and the Graduating Class of 2008, I am honored to speak with you this evening.
In 1993, a man named Dave Kapell invented Magnetic Poetry as a way to overcome writer’s block. On the front bulletin board in my classroom hangs the remnants of a Magnetic Poetry calendar from 2006—a magnetic square of black cardboard and approximately fifty word tiles, such as: embrace, hair, cloud, language, pizza, music, etc.
Over the last couple of years, I've watched with pleasure as students approached the Magnetic Poetry board without prompting; it was not required, it was not something only the “cool kids” did, and it was not for a grade. Having observed this, I decided to incorporate the phenomenon of Magnetic Poetry into my Creative Writing course and Writer's Workshop this spring. What emerged was sometimes beautiful, always realistic, un-intimidating poetry. Listen, for example, to these poems by a few of my senior students:
Brittany T’s “Magnetic Moon”
I cry to the moon,
a delicate goddess.
I stare at my love in the sky.
She is my heart, my beauty, my life.
For eternity I will watch her and die.
Samantha B's “Shadows”
from beneath the summer rain, they moan.
has time flooded their minds?
their screams turned to a whisper.
gone into a thousand shadows.
Andrew C's “Recipe for Disaster”
Chocolate milk shakes
Egg whites
Bitter produce
Red meat
Honey
Sausage
Peaches
Make me heave!
Alex O's “delicate as water”
Thousand whispers for eternity.
Vision is delicate as water.
Beneath the shadows, summer soars.
Delirious moment will tell of power.
And Kristopher C's poem “love”
I do like you,
you enormous, heavy, sweaty, ugly, sagging butt,
repulsive, delirious, mad, gorgeous woman.
Your beauty is like a shining diamond.
I do like you.
When I first introduced the Magnetic Poetry kits to my students, I offered suggestions for creating poems. First, arrange all the word tiles face up so you can view your options. Then, begin writing your poem by choosing a noun or a verb. Add other words—adjectives, adverbs, and word endings—for creative imagery and figurative language. Continue this process, writing multiple lines and stanzas and voila! You have a poem.
You’re probably asking, “Why is Ms. Baskin teaching about poetry again? This is our high school graduation, not English class!” Well, the first answer to that question is, “Because I love poetry and I love sharing it with others.” But the second, more pertinent answer to that question is, “Because creating Magnetic Poetry is like creating your adult life.”
At certain hallmarks, or turning points in our lives, like high school graduation, we stop to examine our options, our available word tiles. From those options, we make choices. What nouns should we include in our lives: family, career, success, hope? What verbs will facilitate action in our lives: watch, study, train, apply? What adverbs will describe how we do things in our lives: quickly, leisurely, gracefully, thoroughly? What adjectives, or hobbies, will make our lives more creative, more enjoyable?
Sometimes, in both magnetic poetry and life, we have limited options. My students are often frustrated with the available words on the magnetic tiles, but they persevere and create the best poems out of what they have. The same applies to life. I think Megan S. said it best one day in fourth hour, “Magnetic poetry is like life. You don't get to pick what you want, but you still have to make sense out of the words you get.” And I agree. In order to be fulfilled and happy, you must create the best life out of your available choices.
On occasion, the best life comes from choices that surprise us. Eleven years ago, when I stood on my graduation stage delivering my Saluditorian speech, I would have laughed at you if you said I would be teaching high school in the future. Please do not misunderstand me, I knew at the age of five that I wanted to be a teacher, but I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. The semester before I graduated college with a degree in Elementary Education, I was recruited for the Graduate English Teaching Assistantship program. When Dr. Michael Hogan, one of the best writing teachers and mentors I have ever had, approached me with the idea, I said, “Are you crazy? I graduate next semester. I'm going to get an Elementary teaching position, start a family, move on with my life.” He asked me to at least consider the possibility. I did, and after being in graduate school, teaching freshman composition for a year, I decided I liked teaching older students: students whose noses did not need to be wiped, or whose shoes I did not have to help tie. So after graduate school, I pursued a high school teaching position. And here I am today. I say all this to encourage you: be prepared to be pleasantly surprised. You never know where a choice may lead and potentially change the course of your life for the better.
Unlike me, you may not have known since you were five years old what you wanted to be “when you grew up.” So, as you are challenged to make difficult decisions in your life now, perhaps some writing instruction will be helpful—choose words for a precise, specific purpose, and word after word, line by line, you will create a poem that both you and others will enjoy reading. Do likewise in your life—make each choice, each action, wise, specific, and full of purpose. And choice after choice, day after day, you will create an adult life that you will enjoy living and others will enjoy sharing.
I’d like to close with a Magnetic Poem of my own, called “graduation language”:
this gorgeous moment—
a sweet symphony of dreams
producing elaborate eternities.
from a sea of green and white gowns
march bittersweet memories
and soaring visions.
Thank you.
In other news...
- I am trying out contact lenses for the first time. We'll see if I can get the hang of poking myself in the eye! So far, it's been pretty painful.
- School was canceled for a day and a half due to massive flash flooding. (Now we have to attend a week after graduation to make up missed days.)
- Also due to much rain, we've got water damage in the bedroom around the roof of the closet. Apparently, when the roof was replaced four months ago, the roofers did not "flash" the chimney correctly. We are waiting to hear back from our real estate agent on that one.
- We got new, cool, wooden chairs for the office because our "wheely" chairs were starting to damage the beautiful floor. (Forgot to take a picture. Sorry.)
- I was sick for a week with Pharyngitis, which is basically a really bad sore throat that also inflames the larynx. So speaking was definitely an issue. I still sound like Mickey Mouse when I talk. (It did force us to meet our new family doctor here in Perryville though. Dr. Bracke is such a nice person!)
- I have a full-time student teacher in my classroom, Mr. Cato. He was such a big help when I was sick. In fact, his first day was the worst I was feeling; he taught my last two classes for me.
- Tim bought an HD-DVD add-on device for his XBox 360 very cheaply. So, he's been nabbing up super-cheap HD-DVDs on Amazon. (They do look pretty amazing, if I have to admit it. Don't tell Tim I said that though :)
- We had a wonderful visit with Mom and John the weekend of March 8. They came to check out our new house, and they even stayed with us. We took many trips down memory lane and had a great time!
- Tim & I are both certified in First Aid and CPR now. (They had a training day at school for teachers who are involved in the C.H.O.I.C.E.S. after-school program.)
- Tim & I both signed our school contracts to be employed in the 2008-2009 school year. So we get to eat for another year! Woo hoo!
Chow for now!
I found a W. B. Yeats poem today that I'd never read (or remember reading) today:
"Gratitude to the Unknown Instructors"
What they undertook to do
They brought to pass;
All things hang like a drop of dew
Upon a blade of grass.
As an instructor myself, I am intrigued by this poem. Although I have to wonder why the instructors are unknown. Were/are there people in the speaker's life who taught him things, but at the time he didn't see them as instructors? Or is this the written thanks to all the instructors of the wold whom he doesn't know, but would like to thank for educating the young people?
I like the second line, "They brought to pass." That means that the instructors were successful in their mission of education. I often wonder if what I undertake each day will ever be successful in some of my students' lives, especially some of my juniors who are so obstinate towards learning of any kind.
The last two lines, "All things hang like a drop of dew / Upon a blade of grass" are profoundly vivid. "All things" encompasses the whole world. Or did the speaker merely mean all things instructors teach? Either way, the lines are heavily weighted. How does a drop of dew hang on a blade of grass? It hangs, it holds on for quite a while until gravity overcomes it and it falls (despite itself) onto the ground below, which is thirsty for life-giving water.
This brings up the image to mind of instructors who are wet, saturated with knowledge, if you will, and their students are the ground below. Eventually, in its perfect timing, the knowledge drips like the dew from that blade of grass, onto the thirsty students who desperately want the life the knowledge brings.
As there are so many blades of grass, there are so many instructors in our lives: people, time, mortgages, love... Instructors of all things; if we are patient, we will learn.