[Photo: Pictured with fans with one of his novels - in - verse The Crossover on his website.]
Martin called their session "Poetry play" and, later, "our poetry party." She wanted to know how we can get kids not to be scared of poetry.
Alexander observed that parents learned in high school to be scared of "Auden, Frost, Shakespeare." They learned to forget the fun, "whimsy, joy, passion" of poetry that his mother instilled in him when she'd come into a room and quote Nikki Giovanni or Lucille Clifton to him. For instance, he threw out "Advice" by Langston Hughes:
Folks, I'm telling you,Martin and Alexander shared a laugh and made his point. Martin requested a reading from Shel Silverstein's "My Rules," and then she shared a wonderful bit of "The Summer Day" by Mary Oliver:
birthing is hard
and dying is mean-
so get yourself
a little loving
in between.
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes....
Martin skipped to the last lines: "Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?" Listening to this while I cleaned up the breakfast dishes, I felt amused, involved, convicted, all at the same time. And I saw the grasshopper!
Alexander tells students to "distill it into a few digestible words to get [at the same] feeling." I can imagine asking kids to think of a time they had a strong or mixed feeling, and to list all the ingredients that went into making that moment.For teaching poetry, Alexander says "Let the poetry do the work." He read a poem, no attribution given, that drew us in with Seuss-like rhymes, "I love to ride on a plane, I like to take the train," and so on, but "if I had my 'drothers," he concluded, "I'd get my exercise in your arms."
For the pièce de résistance, Alexander challenged Martin to improvise a poem on-air. He prompted her with questions. "What's an age you remember? What did you see? What was that like?" When she said that summer evenings on the porch at age eight were "green," and "like grass," she wasn't satisfied. He kept pushing her until memories bubbled up that got her excited - sweet tea, lemons, "sweet like my mother's smile." Suddenly, Rachel Martin, Kwame Alexander, and I were satisfied.
I'm more convinced than ever that reading poetry aloud and writing poetry are the most important things an English teacher can do at any age. At least do it before the kids learn that poetry is a problem to solve for credit.
"What about essays?" ask some educators. "Stories? Novels? Don't kids have to learn to walk before they can run?"
That last analogy is a bad one, not least because kids do run before they learn to walk, stumbling all along. Kids also speak gobbledygook with the inflections of whole sentences before they learn words, crayon full pictures before they learn techniques, compose songs before they read music. Kids play games of basketball before they've "mastered" the "fundamentals." The teacher who says, "No, don't try to learn that thing you want to learn" should be suspended for malpractice.
Besides, any halfway decent poem gets its effect by doing all the things that a good essay would do, mixed with the things that a good story would do. The poet will necessarily make choices about how to focus the reader's attention, how to draw the reader on to something that builds to a conclusion. That's called structure.
The halfway effective poem will also use clues in diction and details to conjure a sense of character, and some kind of story.
For grammar, there are the tricks poets use to link ideas and minimize verbiage. Mostly, they reduce clauses to phrases and cut out the dull verbs of being. I've seen grammar books that don't get that far into practical grammar.
And if any given poem doesn't do all these things, well, poems are short. What one lacks, another will provide.
I'm refreshed, thinking how I can make poetry a part of our regular routine, not just a now-and-then thing.
Read my earlier reflections on what students learn from responding to poetry without teacher's active involvement, Plentiful Payoffs from Poetry Playoffs. One of my biggest "hits" on this blog is my reflection on Mary Oliver's book Thirst.
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