Writing in the Schools, Day 1

By Andrea Scarpino

Los Angeles

This is Ms. Andrea, Ms. Goodman said. She’s a poet. The fifth graders gasped. Some looked at me and smiled. Usually, Americans shift uncomfortably and look at their feet when you mention poetry. But as an official Writer in the Schools, my job for the next six weeks is to be a poet and to help Ms. Goodman’s class write poetry. So I told them I love words. That I think words matter. That when we tell a friend we love her, that matters, and when we tell a friend we hate him, that matters too.

They understood, I think. So I read a poem that plays with language. We talked about rhyming, alliteration, assonance. I was careful when I said the word “assonance” and they were careful when they said it too. Then I asked them to work with a partner to write their own poems. They didn’t hesitate. Immediately, the room was filled with laughter and talking and rhyming sounds. I walked around the classroom so they could show me their work. Ms. Goodman did the same, spelled out words for them when they didn’t know the spelling, pushed them to write more.

And I was amazed at how liberated they were. Ask a college classroom to write a poem on the spot and again, that shifting occurs, the air in the room vanishes. Adults don’t think we can turn on creativity. We want to be inspired, to wait for that moment when the muse whispers in our ears. But here was a classroom of fifth graders working away, playing with words, writing a poem with their friends, without waiting around for inspiration to appear. Of course, the poetry they wrote in class won’t win any big awards. But is that the point of writing? Ms. Goodman’s fifth graders wrote because I asked them to, and when I asked them to share what they had done for the class to hear, their hands shot into the air. Group by group, the students read their work out loud for everyone else to hear. They listened carefully and chose their favorite lines from another group’s poem. They were practically jumping out of their seats.

Now this was just Day 1 of a six-week project. Eventually, they’ll get tired of me and my writing exercises. Students always do, if you give them enough time. But even if just for one day, they were filled with excitement, with joy at reading and writing, at simply playing with language and words, letting sounds roll around in their mouths and then roll onto the page.

At the end of class, Ms. Goodman clapped her hands. I’ll have them type all of their poems and we can collect them in a book, she said. She was excited. I am too. The students gasped, remember, when she told them I write poetry. I guess it’s not every day you meet someone who calls herself a poet. But at the end of our first hour, I had hope, again, for American poetry. Here was a classroom of fifth graders excited about poetry, writing their own poems and liking it. Just because I asked them to, each had turned into a poet. And loved it.

Andrea Scarpino is the west coast Bureau Chief of POTB. You can visit her at:

www.andreascarpino.com

Author: stevekuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by stevekuusisto