The Power of Re-visiting Text

Wild Strawberries (1957) is not nearly as "artsy-fartsy" or maudlin as this trailer makes it look... honest!

Each school year, despite the best efforts of our department leadership to clearly inform teachers which novels are assigned to be taught at which of the four grade levels (9 thru 12), invariably teachers will high-jack a text for use a different grade level. Whether out of a passion for a particular title or because they don't feel the obligation to research materials for a novel they have not previously worked with, this is an annual conscious choice on the part of some that results in a completely avoidable bone of contention. While this does create problems (beyond the need to find alternative resources, let's face it, the thematic content of some texts really is more accessible and meaningful to older more experienced students), there is also an opportunity created through this lack of etiquette: the potential for revealing for students the power of a re-visiting a text.

A favorite title from my
youth I look forward to
revisiting this summer.

This idea is even more relatable when considered in the context of movies, a fact I was once again reminded of while re-watching one yesterday. The opportunity to re-visit a text (whether traditional hard copy or film presentation) creates a situation that illustrates the difference between simply reading a book and really READING a book. As teachers and adults, we can appreciate finding new information each time we read a story or novel, or after re-watching a movie. High school students, however, often view the reading expedience as a chore which, once completed, is finished with little necessity to revisit it beyond identifying cited textual evidence for responding to an essay prompt.

VHS box for Federico
Fellini's La Strada (1954).

While an undergraduate English major wa-a-ay back in 1988, I took a film study course entitled "Fellini and Bergman." As a product of an urban Western New York public school system, I had zero familiarity with the idea of watching foreign movies other than those produced by Toho Studios and (badly) re-dubbed in English. A large part of the course requirement consisted of independently watching films outside of class. This task required going to the bowels of the campus library and viewing videotapes at a desk with large headphones on. It was there that I also gained a level of comfort reading subtitles--an underappreciated skill I continue to develop to this day. While at my local public library yesterday, I came across a DVD copy of one of the films I had seen in the library basement, Ingmar Bergman's Wild Strawberries (1954), a film I had last seen 26 years ago.

After finishing the movie this second time, many years later, the difference in the experience was clear. Eighteen year-old me dutifully viewed Bergman's meditation on aging and acceptance, coming to some basic conclusions based in great part on my professor's book explaining the movie's themes, structure and story. Yesterday, 47 year-old me experienced with greater depth (and a stronger personal connection) the philosophical themes such as the value of introspection and the transient nature of human existence. I am also fairly certain that 65 year-old me (fingers-crossed!) will draw even more from a future viewing experience.

Stories, poetry and novels are no different; all benefit from the occasional re-visit, especially after time and experience have filled in some cognitive and emotional gaps. A part of me looks forward to the realization that this year's new crop of budding scholars have somehow been fed a novel that I had intended to teach. Rather than cursing the previous ill-advised professional, I will take advantage of the opportunity and challenge of demonstrating the power of revisiting text. Beyond the additional structural and thematic low-hanging fruit ready to be dropped, I am confident a great connection between the student (reader) and content can be facilitated... and the real magic of literature validated!

Amer-OAR-can Gothic

Last week, I posted an example of a graphic "allusion" to my passion du jour, George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones, in an Angie's List mailer. Upon further review, I believe I chose the incorrect term to suggest what was happening. While I claimed "allusion," the cover art can better be described as an example of "appropriation." This subtle distinction is... uh... appropriate as the source which was being referenced (an iconic image associated with the television show) was graphic, rather than textual, in nature.

According to Wikipedia: "Appropriation in art is the use of pre-existing objects or images with little or no transformation applied to them... Appropriation can be understood as 'the use of borrowed elements in the creation of a new work.'" Armed with this new information, when I came across another example, one generated from a quip to my students and to be shared more formally on the next A Day, I am glad to have the correct language with which to explain.

Another Term of the Day I shared with my high school English classes recently was "Gothic." While a term they had been introduced earlier in the year while reading representative selections from both English and American literary movements, in an effort to find relevant grammar/literary terms for sharing on "G Days" (it's a somewhat complicated A through J school day rotation schedule), it seemed a more interesting class starter than "Gerund."

American Gothic (1930) by Grant Wood and cover to the 2013 Princeton 3-Mile Chase Regatta program.

In passing, the title to Grant Wood's familiar painting, American Gothic, came to me and I inquired if students were familiar with the painting. Though none could recall it by name, once I described the image of the rural American farmer in overalls with pitchfork and his dour-looking wife, more than a few hands went into the air. American Gothic by Grant Wood is one of the most familiar images in 20th-century American art. It has also been widely parodied and appropriated within American popular culture, earning I high level of visual recognition.

This past October, my stepson rowed in the Princeton 3-Mile Chase Regatta on Lake Carnegie in New Jersey. Unfortunately, work commitment precluded my going, but my wife did take the trip and returned with the event flyer. As fate would have it, the flyer featured an appropriation of American Gothic for it's cover. in  addition to a more minimalist depiction (and slightly more positive expressions on the two primaries' faces), the most signification (and appropriate) alteration was the replacement of the pitchfork with A Princeton Tigers "blade."

The layers of influence on our culture, whether "allusion" in novels, "appropriation" in art or even "sampling" in music, is dense and multi-layered. As always, however, the mantra I repeat to my students suggests how we can limit or open our analysis to observing these strategies at play: The more deeply and broadly you are read, the more these nods and influences will reveal themselves to you!

Poem in Your Pocket Day(s) Activity

Official National Poetry
Month 2013 poster.

April is nearly half over and I am just now finding time to fully support National Poetry Month (NPM) in the way I had hoped. Despite being busy with piloting lessons designed to address the new Common Core Learning Standards, which seemingly suggests a heavier reliance on non-fiction in school English classes, I have been looking for the chance to devote some instructional time to poetry experiences. Fortunately for my students and I, our school's Library/Media Specialist has done a nice job following through on a few building wide activities from years past such as the reading of poems by different students each morning during announcements and scheduling our semi-annual Poetry Reading next week.

Beyond analyzing poems such as "To a Mouse" by Robert Burns, "A Dream Deferred" by Langston Hughes, and "Sonnet X" by John Donne, all which have thematic ties to traditionally taught novels (Of Mice and Men, A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry,  and Death Be Not Proud by John Gunther, respectively), my colleagues and I do our best to infuse the curriculum with poetry. It is why many of us got into the business: a love a literature we wish to share. Given this, to me, it only makes sense that the poetry activity I use for NPM  promotes the sharing of student selected poetry with other members of our learning community.

The CCLS does include language which continues to supports the inclusion of poetry in hgihs chool curriculum. For example, one could fairly see this Pocket Poem activity of researching, selecting and sharing as meeting the Reading Standard 11.1 (Grades 11–12):

Interpret, analyze, and evaluate narratives, poetry, and drama, aesthetically and philosophically by making connections to: other texts, ideas, cultural perspectives, eras, personal events, and situations.

The subordinate Key Ideas get at the specifics even more, especially 11.1a.: "Self-select text to respond and develop innovative perspectives."

The task introduced.

Now that I have a level of alignment with the CCLS, over the next week, I will be assigning all of my English students to complete a slightly adjusted Poem in Your Pocket Day activity. I initially had planned the project for use in my Advanced Placement classes (primarily because I hope it will be something of a reprieve from preparation for May's assessments), my Regents level courses will also be participating. Though Thursday, April 18 is "officially" Poem in Your Pocket Day, our celebration will be stretched over the weekend following so that due dates will be between April 22-23.

I introduced the activity to the first class participating Friday morning, and will continue doing so today. The activity is a familiar take on the common "pick a favorite poem" task. The most significant change in the spirit of Poem in Your Pocket Day, is that the extensions of the task emphasis beyond the selection of a single poem. The sharing of a self-selected poem with a number of people from our shared learning community is where the real "work" is. As I explained to my students, it has been my experiencing that the act of sharing a poem is generally seen by the recipient as an invitation to conversation, even by those who  either "dislike" poetry or with who may never had experienced an authentic conversation around it.



Melancholy? Yes. A theme high
schoolers can relate to? YES!

The activity's introduction was prefaced by my own sharing of a poem with the class, "Dolor" by Theodore Roethke. As I explained to them after sharing it, "Dolor" was first given to me as a college assignment by a professor who was aware of my intention to teach. Of course, it was only years later that I saw the implications of the poem's theme on what would become my career.

Students will document their interactions with those who they are sharing with through one of two ways: having the recipients sign a copy of the poem or having a digital photo taken with all three "members" of the exchange (student, recipient and poem) in the frame. My hope is that despite a common task, the variation in poems selected, as well as methods of documentation will reduce "the dropping of fine film" which can result in dispassionate "duplicate grey standard faces" some activities can unwittingly produce.

But, therein lies the real challenge of teaching and the value of poetry in schools!

Title Time: Death Be Not Proud

The Avengers, Vol.1 #56 (Marvel),
December 1968.

The New Titans #83 (DC Comics),
February 1992.

Last week, my class and I began working with John Gunther's memoir, Death Be Not Proud. Published back in 1949, it recounts the story of the author's son's battle with a brain tumor which ultimately leads to a cerebral hemorrhage that takes his life at the age of seventeen. No need for spoiler tags here--Gunther lays this out for the reader in his foreword, before quickly moving to a stark and honest recounting of his son Johnny's life from the time his doctor mistakenly learns of the tumor until his passing.

At one point this book was commonly taught in schools, and after finding it buried deep in the bowels of our school's book room (a converted service closet I lovingly refer to as "The Book Morgue") with imprints dating the copies back to 1982, I brought it back for use in my classes. It's not clear to me why this book has appreantly fallen out of favor with the English rteachers in my building, but this school year represents the third during which I have shared this book with my students. There is some (by today's standards) challenging vocabulary and contains subject matter can be sensititve--though niether of these factors should reasonably disqualify it from being taught.


Each year while reviewing lesson plans and updating PowerPoint slides, I randomly search for images that will be of use in bringing notes and thoughts to life visually. While doing this I am always surprised to find one or two new images that I had not previously associated with the work, but that are of interest. One group of images that I've recently come across is comic books which share the same title. Since Gunther himself borrowed took the title for his memoir from the first line of John Donne's Sonnet X: "Death, be not proud, though some have called thee..." its continued recycling makes sense. 


X-Men: The Hidden Years #15
(Marvel), February 2001.

Given the memoir's popularity, it seems only natural that after it became part of the cultural zeitgeist that comic book writers would take advantage of this built in recognition and use it to promote the passing of characters, often, as in the cases shown here, trumpeting such significant plot points on the cover in bold lettering.

The common phrasing is not always used as the primary selling point on the cover however as, unlike the cases of The Avengers, X-Men and Teen Titans, the title "Death Be Not Proud," has on occasion been used as the internal title of the story (back in the golden age of comics the titles inside and on the cover might vary). One such example is in the case of the most recent volume of Spider-Girl dealing with the accidental death of the protagonist's father. While the cover is more of a news stand pin-up, a common practice in modern comic books, the inside story is indeed entitled "Death Be Not Proud."

Interesting connections between literature and comic books, such as allusions to famous works of "serious" literature, sometimes turn up in the most unusual places. I'd venture to guess we haven't seen the last instance of Donne's famous line turning up in the "funny books"...

Poem du Jour: "The Psalm of Life"

This past week, amidst final preparations for the coming week's administration of the English 11 Regents exam, my classes and I took a break from multiple-guessing and formulaic paragraph writing to read and very preliminarily analyze Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem, "The Psalm of Life." (The poem is available to be read and listened to above as well as read online at  Poets.org).

My purpose in sharing this particular piece was two-fold: first, to use Longfellow's treatise on making life meaningful as a means of building background for our future reading of Jon Krakauer's Into the Wild, and secondly, as a way to indirectly suggest one view of life's course. Though meeting standards on a watered-down assessment may find one clerically "farther than to-day" (line 12), lost among the non-fiction frenzy and technical writing is that which most teachers went to college for. Most undergraduates hope to use literature as a means of offering a path for students so that "in the bivouac of life,/Be not like dumb, driven cattle!/Be a hero in the strife!" (lines 18-20)

While one supposes there is room for both testing and "art," it is unfortunate for all involved (students, teachers, and, ultimately, our community), that demonstrating superficial-level understanding via standardized testing continues to be the priority. The challenge becomes for teachers and students to look for ways to move beyond the "forlorn and ship-wrecked brother" (line 31) testing seeks to make us, to pursue and achieve the innate value of literary studies.

Seen It (Again): The Garden (2008)

With our seven day Winter Recess taking place this last week of December, and having recently completed an extensive exemplification essay, I invited my AP students to earn some additional credit by taking in one of five prescribed documentary films.

The Task: while viewing one fop the films, students are being asked to track instances in whicc the filmmaker attempted to engage one of the three appeals (ethos, pathos, logos) through the use of music, imagery, and dialogue. After completing a graphic organizer of their observations, students are then being asked to develop three high level questions for use in testing one another regrading the use of the three appeals in documentary film making. Though I had already seen four of the five--with Waiting for Superman (2011) being the lone exception--it was time for me to revisit these films for myself.

I first came across the trailer for The Garden while perusing the online home of Oscilloscope Laboratories, the small film distribution company founded by the Late Adam Yauch (aka MCA) of the music group The Beastie Boys. After seeing the trailer I immediately connected it with the book Seedfolks by Paul Fleischman, a book I had previously taught in eighth grade. Both the film and the book deal with a community garden. Unlike Fleischman's book, however, The Garden is a true story, and as Ernest Hemingway famously said, "All  true stories end in death." This film is not about the death of any one individual, but the passing of an ideal.

In the wake of the 1992 Los Angeles riots, hundreds of mostly Mexican-American families came together and turned a blighted corner of South Central Los Angeles into a 14 acre urban oasis—complete with guavas, papayas and enough fruit and vegetables to feed hundreds of families.

Directed by Scott Hamilton Kennedy, The Garden (2008) is the unflinching look at the struggle between urban farmers and the City of Los Angeles and a powerful developer who wants to evict them and build warehouses. The urban farmers consist primarily of immigrants from Latin American countries where they feared for their lives if they were to speak out. The film follows them as they organize, fight back, and demand a response to the question of, "Where is our 'Justice for all'?"

As aptly summarized on to the film's Facebook page, "The Garden explores the fault lines in American Society. It is the story of the country’s largest urban farm, backroom politics, land developers, money, poverty and power. If everyone told you nothing more could be done, would you give up?"

The Garden is currently available for instant viewing and rental via Netflix, or to be purchased on DVD.

'Nuff Read: How to Write A Sentence...

This fall I will begin teaching my third year of Advanced Placement Language and Composition for eleventh graders at my public school of employ. Given the sometimes dry nature of the composition's particulars and, by extension, grammar, I am always on the lookout for books that are accessible to curious high schoolers with an interest in the topics of writing and grammar.

I picked up this slight tome (only 162 pages) while at The Coop in Harvard Square, subconsciously probably so I would feel smart. How to Write a Sentence and How to Read One by Stanley Fish (ISBN-13: 9780061840548, HarperCollins Publishers) is the quintessential "smart person's book." This may be why, despite being an adequate teacher of English, the detail and grammar-ese became a little confusing for this knucklehead, especially the further along I waded into it.

Despite that, there is much useful insight into the process of teaching grammar, though the sharing of this information to younger readers/writers would likely require a more adapt teacher to even further distill the concepts down. Fish's approach to teaching the art of sentences is to use those sentences that can be seen to have either artistic or structural merit as a basis for a series of activities that facilitate the reader's development of their own sentences that mirror the exceptional qualities.  The basis for this seemingly abstract approach, is Fish's assertion that, "The sentence form is King." Fish's underlying premise is that once we grasp what the different forms are, how they work and what they do–then the rest (“the rest” being the ideas we wish to communicate) falls into place. 

Makes sense, right? In fact, as I read I could not help but to consider how this approach is similar to that which coaches at all levels of competition use in training student-athletes. Through the use of models to break up apart exemplary performance into its smaller components (for example, a well run race is the product of many variables including arm carriage, leg drive, torso position, etceteras) for instructional purposes. I like to think of this as the "Miyagi-san (Pat Morita's character in the original Karate Kid films) approach", and along the same lines the deeper into Fish's book one gets the more like a foreign language (such as Miyagi's Japaneses) the diction becomes.

To this end, throughout How to Write a Sentence..., Fish guides the reader though a series of meta-writing activities intended to illustrate the processes he is suggesting. The basis for these exercise are sentence models drawn from numerous recognizable authors such as Edgar Allen Poe and Joseph Conrad. Fish relies on these types models and exercises to reveal for the reader the beauty and complexity of sentences and to invite the reader put into practice what he preaches.

The majority of the brief exercises could be easily adaptable for use in a classroom, though a less sophisticated student might find them frustrating, especially if what has been taught previously runs counter to what Fish suggests is the best way to teach. In addition to suggesting an alternative to existing grammar teaching strategies, How to Write... offer philosophical basis for a new approach to teaching writing beginning with its smallest structural building block.

While I do recommend reading (and utilizing) How to Write a Sentence and How to Read One by Stanley Fish, the purchase of the book is likely unnecessary, especially given its wide availability in local public libraries, including my local own Monroe Public Library branches. Of course, if you are a "local yokel", drop me a line and you're welcome to borrow my copy.

Other Summer Reading Books:
Supergods: What Masked Vigilantes, Miraculous Mutants, and a Sun God From Smallville Can Teach Us About Being Human by Grant Morrison
The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham
Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer
At the Mountains of Madness: The Definitive Edition by H.P. Lovecraft
The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kankwamba

'Nuff Read: Supergods

Hardcover released in 7/19/2011.

Supergods, by comic superstar Grant Morrison, is an excellent primer for those interested in the evolution of comic book heroes from the concept's inception with the creation of Superman by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster through their now all-to-commonplace presence in Hollywood blockbusters. For those who think they don't know who Morrison is, if you have any sense of modern popular culture, and many of those who feel they are part of the Illiterati don't, the impact of his work in the comic book medium has been among the most influential on how characters with comic book beginnings are presented in film over the past 15 years.

This non-fiction work's subtitle (not present on the cover of either the hard or soft cover editions) offers greater clarification as to just what Morrison is attempting to do: "What Masked Vigilantes, Miraculous Mutants, and a Sun God From Smallville Can Teach Us About Being Human." Regarding the comic book industry and how the buying public wishes their heroes to be presented, Morrison knows his stuff.

Softcover A released 6/26/2012.

The various published editions also provide an interesting object lesson in marketing and media.  As a high school Advanced Placement Language and Composition teacher it seems to me that there is something to be said about the images on each cover and the persuasive message each implies to a slightly different audience.  The cover to the hardcover edition (upper left) is clearly intended to appeal to those familiar with Morrison's previous publishing efforts: there is little to convince the casual shopper that this is about anything other than comic strips and maybe "sun gods." The illustrations by longtime collaborator Frank Quitely, are likely only recognizable to those who are familiar with the duo's recently completed All-Star Superman series from which the images are taken.

Without the subtitle on the cover it would be fair to say that on a seller's Non-Fiction book shelf it could seem misplaced and belong with wither New Fiction or New Science-Fiction. Apparently there were enough fans of his genre work, or others simply hungry for deeper analysis that the cover didn't impede sales--as the softcover blares it was a "National Bestseller." The comic book fan will also be pleased to know that in addition to analyzing the role of super heroes, Morrison speaks autobiographically about his creative process and his journey from a young lad in Scotland to a comic god in his own right.

Softcover B released 6/26/2012.

The softcover editions, on the other hand, are intended for those who are comic book newbies or came to comic books primarily through their movie iterations. These individuals for the most part may not have been among those buying the hardcover edition. The (in my thinking) superior hardcover edition--which I should have bought but did not due to cost and other factors--is a more attractive tome for the previously initiated--of which I am a longtime member. We know Morrison. We recognize Quitely's distinctive artwork, and we know that Supergods is not one of their fictional collaborations.

Softcover A shows a little more artistic savvy than the straightforward B. Given the release date the cover appropriately attempts to cash in by establishing a visual connection to the recent release of The Dark Knight Rises by using a slightly pop-art Batman Cowl cutout giving the impression that the book minimally deals comic books, and suggests a primary focus being the Batman. (Arguably, Morrison has written the majority of the most popular iterations of the character in the past decade with the all-time graphic Novel bestseller Arkham Asylum and recent runs on DC's Batman and Robin comics.)

Softcover B (above, left) is simply a less subtle, though more detailed, take on Softcover A, intended likely to even more clearly draw an inference to the popular films. Given the less stylistic cowl outline, even the most peripheral "fan" of the character would recognize the Batman's scowling silhouette. As one might properly surmise, both covers taken together separately featuring Superman and Batman delineate, in Morrison's thinking, the two progenitors of all super hero comic books.

As a reading selection, Supergods does a wonderful job of making the case for comic books as literature and as a reflection of the times in which they were written. By looking back at the comic book hero during four distinct comic book movements (The Golden Age, The Silver Age, The Dark Age , and The Renaissance) and deftly aligning them with social and political movements, Morrison demonstrates how these works of literature reflect (and often predict) societal changes.

If like me you do read comics, it was interesting to see him reference many of the significant story lines and issues over the past thirty years and to be able to go back and reread them in light of the context provided. A very brisk and engaging summer read for fanboys and newbies alike, though those without much of a background in comic books may find the focus of the book a little scattered; for veteran readers, we know it's just Morrison doing that oddly structured "Morrison-thing."

Other "Summer Reading Books":
The Day of the Triffids by John Wyndham
Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer
At the Mountains of Madness: The Definitive Edition by H.P. Lovecraft
The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kankwamba

School Poetry Reading Revisited

Advertising does work!

Evidence of my negligence as a blogger is mounting up... it's been over two months since my last post on this blog, during which time I shared an activity my Advanced Placement class and I had been working on as part of our National Poetry Month (NPM) celebration. In the interim, while NPM has come and gone with varying degrees of success, its impact on my thinking regarding the success this year has not faded.

By far, in my mind, the most successful activity in the month long series was a poetry reading organized by the our school's library/media special, in collaboration with select Special Education staff. A more complete review (with pictures) can be read on the library/media speclialist's blog The Book Stops Here.

While I regret that more of my own English students did not attend and share their writing, I was extremely pleased to be part of the activity which highlighted the efforts of a wide variety of students in our learning community. Those of mine who did attend walked away with a new found appreciation and respect for those students, who while differently abled, have much to contribute to our culture of poetry appreciation.

Thanks in large parts to the efforts of our librarian, we have made some nice gains in the arena of poetry appreciation in the past few years... and there's always room for more next year!

Piecing Together The Hallway Haiku Project

While it has been a few weeks since I first posted regarding the Hallway Haiku Project my English 11 classes and I had been involved in, I have not forgotten about them. To their credit, as you'll read, neither have the students. Prior to our ten day Winter Recess, which ended today, the classes and I had continued honing our "products," ultimately selecting a "final four" of sorts: the four haiku from a total of roughly 240 generated by the classes, which represented (given specific criteria) what we had hoped to communicate to the school as a whole

As anyone who is involved in the democratic process on any level will attest, the "winner" is not always the "best," and with this in mind, prior to the break we took the activity to the next level, from both the linguistic to the visual, and from the group to the personal. I hoped to give them a chance to work with both the final four, like the one to the left ("Life is a puzzle,/pieces not always fitting,/ sometimes that's better."), as well as one of their own haiku which had not been selected to move on in our "Haiku Survivor" contest, but to them had a kernel of merit worth revisiting.

The task was as follows: each student was assigned one of the four (4) hallway haiku that had made the cut based on individual group (hello, oxymoron!) consensus. With the haiku as a part of the visual, students then had to use either Microsoft Publisher or Word, to draft a visual representation to go along with the assigned haiku. The result would be a hallway sign of sorts, communicating on both linguistic and visual levels. Students were told that the visuals, or signs, should be easily interpreted.

The follow-up activity was to then revise (if necessary) one of their haiku and do the same for that. In the case of both the finalists and their own haiku I invited students to play with punctuation use (dashes, commas, periods) to see if they could tweak the meaning of lines by doing so.

The results were even better than expected on both fronts. The graphics developed by the students represented a wide range of interpretations and it was interesting to see what each brought to the visual table when considering a common series of words, in this case a haiku. As one could fairly expect, there were common motifs or symbols employed, especially when the haiku itself suggested one (such as the puzzle to the upper left). It was also nice to see the ownership not only the works produced collaboratively with an unnamed poet, but with the pieces they were given the opportunity to revisit.

This morning in class, one student inquired as to whether or not we would be returning to the hallway haiku project now that break had concluded, and actually get to hang some of the haiku up in the hallway. As I told her, that is the next step...

Hallway Haiku Project: Process & Model

A few weeks ago on Facebook my "friend" Scott Simon of NPR posted a story about his interview with activist/artist John Morse entitled Haiku Traffic Signs Bring Poetry To NYC Streets. Fascinated by the combination of poetry and visual representation, I set about developing a series of relatively quick activities I could work through with my Advanced Placement students. The intent was to have the activities culminate in the development of Hallway Haiku signs that could (depending on the quality of the final product) be posted throughout our school building--or at he very least the classroom.

First students were asked to write in their Writing journals about issues of importance to high school students and to suggest advice to be shared with peers in addressing these issues. This was followed by a quick consideration of the elements of classic haiku through the reading and analysis of traditional examples of the form written by form luminaries like Basho.

The following class, we took both activities and synthesized them into the writing of re-purposed haiku (really more of a senyru as the kigo, or seasonal word was unnecessary) intended to both evoke an image and to communicate a message or idea of value to the student's peers (high schoolers). This resulted in roughly 240 individual haiku (four by each of the sixty students).

The next two classes we dedicated time for peer reviewing and consensus building the 240 down to five. These will next be assigned to students for both revision (some punctuation placement may yield different meanings) and development of accompanying visuals. I still think some better options have been passed up via our student group consensus building, so I may allow a way for previously "rejected" finalists to find their way back in (sort of a poetry Redemption Island).

This morning I spent a little time (okay, really about an hour), revising a previously submitted, and ultimately rejected, draft with the purpose of using it to make a sample sign for sharing in class on Tuesday. The original hallway haiku was as follows: Urgent pencil strokes/tap-tap-tap of lead like rain,/still thoughts pool. This was actually an "exemplar" that had made it through but did NOT meet the 5-7-5 criteria, and so I set about revising it to meet the traditional form. I also realized that there really isn't lead in pencils anymore, so I sought to take that into consideration while playing with the language. A short time later I came up with: Shhh! Urgent pencils/move, tappety-tap of tips/like rain—still thoughts pool. I'm a fan of onomatopoeia and alliteration so figured "what the hey." While students will have Microsoft Publisher at their disposal at school, I was limited to Microsoft Word and online free clip art to make my model, posted to the left.

This week, we will proceed to the next phase and see what develops...