There’s no place like home. Our last school visit was in Chennai India and our next is in Kazan, Russia – but what a wonderful gift it was to roll out of bed drink a cup of coffee in our kitchen and then drive 15 minutes to Kirtland Elementary school to spend a day with […]
“Friends stick to you like lice to a scalp.” So surmised a 7th grade class as we worked on a co-created definition poem describing the word Friendship. Pretty apropos seeing as we made whole bunch of new friend during our visit to AISC. Librarian extraordinaire Jeremy Willette being one and I’d be remiss to not […]
We love coming to Eastern and consider ourselves honorary Gators – we show up wave to the office folks and head to the teacher lounge to store our lunches in the refrigerator. It really is a homecoming of sorts.
Sara and I had the fun privilege of sitting down with Lori Caszatt of the Willoughby Eastlake Library for a chat on a chilly December day. click and listen.
What can we say? Singapore American School feels like a home away from home for us. We have visited here so many times that we have a favorite grocery store. We love our trips to this school. Why? Because they push us – every time we come they throw another challenge our way that makes […]
So what are we accomplishing here?
We are close reading a text as a group.
We discover themes of our literature.
We are collaborating to discern the importance of what we are reading.
We are taking collaborative research and writing as individuals.
We are getting hands on experience using poetic elements.
We are accepting the extra challenge.
We are working and succeeding through a bit of cognitive dissonance.
We are coming back together to edit and write a finished piece with a partner.
We are sharing our work with an audience.
Poetry scares teachers – how do we teach it – and more problematic for instructors, how do we interpret and or grade it? Ought we beat it with a hose as Billy Collins laments, “…tie the poem to a chair with rope and torture a confession out of it.” Or should we just let it exist floating in the air like a balloon attached to our heart by a strand of silk, ephemeral and too precious to critique?
Somewhere along the way we teach young adults to hate poetry.