The American Sentence Goes to High School (On-line)

Poster sheet 1 of 3 on which one class created their American sentence
chain by posting their individual lines based on a shared-environment
free write. (4/21/15)

In years past, I would have students work with analyzing and writing a number of different poetic forms during National Poetry Month. A very standard task for schools, I know, but neither this particular school year (COVID-19!) nor the poetic structure are "traditional." So, we adjust. The unfortunate reality is that by the time I receive students in my classroom as juniors, much of the communal joy around poetry, in general, seems to have been driven from them. Most mentions of "poetry" elicit groans from classes. That doesn't mean you don't attempt to fan what small flames of affection for poetry remain. This year, what was taught and produced in our classroom over two days will now be attempted via Google Classroom. Whereas the process describe in the following (revised over last 9 school years) results in an accurate picture of a singular shared space: our classroom; this year our work will be linked by a shared experience: social distancing in our individual homes.

I like to have classes work first with that form with which they are most familiar (at least in terms of its superficial structure) and one that they especially seem to disdain, the traditional (Western) haiku. The next logical step, and one that provides as many opportunities for the meaningful application of imagistic writing skills, is the introduction of a personal favorite form, the American sentence.

The American sentence is a fairly modern poetic form initiated by Allen Ginsberg (Howl) as a means of compressing (“Maximum information, minimum number of syllables”) Western language in a style similar to that of the Eastern haiku. The key comes from a Ginsberg notion that poets are "people who notice what they notice." Ginsberg felt that divvying syllables into three 5-7-5 lines makes the poetic process an exercise in counting, not feeling. American Sentences are haiku-length poems that Allen suggested be limited to 17 syllables, like haiku in Japanese.

By using a free write centered on our classroom, at the time a common point in time and location, the class's first experience playing with this poetic form can also ultimately be used as an opportunity to collaboratively prepare an extended American sentence chain. (As the teacher, I also model the entire process from free-write to "publishing", on the computer and SMART board.) The idea that each student opening their individual awareness of a moment (or four minutes of "moments") can yield similar superficial observation filtered through varying perspectives can be powerful. The collection of sensual notes and observations taken during the free write always seem to result in enough brain fodder for students to pull two images with which to play and build their introductory American sentences.


Reviewing with class the potential contributing elements to an American sentence also creates the opportunity to review several concepts that are valuable in their analysis on literature (fiction and non-fiction) in a context that is easily accessible. For Regents-level students, the American sentence also is an excellent way to review and practice the use of figurative language. In a broad sense there is not much "new" here; students play with common literary elements in a new and open manner, by extending the but the application within the context of a modern form (an insight that some lack anyway: that understanding that forms and language do change and evolve).

Four applicable strategies in particular are especially fun to re-frame for classes:

• Imagistic: a style of poetry that employs free verse and the patterns and rhythms of common speech. 
• Found poetry: Found poetry is a type of poetry created by taking words, phrases, and sometimes whole passages from other sources (written or oral) and reframing them as poetry by making changes in spacing and/or lines (and consequently meaning), or by altering the text by additions and/or deletions. The resulting poem can be defined as either treated: changed in a profound and systematic manner; or untreated: virtually unchanged from the order, syntax and meaning of the original. 
• Busted syntax: poorly worded, incorrect syntax perhaps to illustrate a point 
• Demotic speech = of or pertaining to the ordinary, everyday, current form of a language; vernacular: a poet with a keen ear for demotic rhythms.

While one of my classes has already completed the activity (with part of the final results posted above), two more will be working through the format over the next few classes. Sadly one of the skills standardized test don't currently assess are creativity or the use by students of figurative language. This is unfortunate as this is where the majority of students excel despite the limited opportunities to develop a unique authorial voice outside the academic one favored by the exams.

Materials for 2020 American Sentence project using poetry generated by 2015 classes.

Given that the topic of the American Sentence Chain above is our classroom, occasionally the lines students' choose as their personal favorites to contribute do not reflect what I think of as a fairly productive learning environment. In addition being of the proper syllable count and imagistic, some lines evoke feedback that is personally and professionally helpful.It is always insightful to see the work of students' reflect their inner lives (at least the little of which I am aware) in writing. The American sentence is just one of the poetic forms that provide a wonderful vehicle for reflection.

The significant shift in focus in the time of COVID-19 may elicit some even more interesting insight. To be written via Google Classroom over the next few "classes", this year's individual and collaborative "products" should (fingers crossed!) reflect the diversity of our shared social distancing (oxymoron!) experience through the lens of the American sentence. This seems a perfectly natural outcome given the range of students and experience present in classes, which I miss dearly.

Sources:
Paul E. Nelson's Blog
Allen Ginsberg's American Sentences by Bob Holman and Margery Snyder

Poem du Jour: "Old Fashioned Spaceman"

From Leonard Nimoy's poetry collection Warmed by Love,
published by Blue Mountain Press in 1983.

Apologies for slacking, but here we are already six days into National Poetry Month 2020 and I have yet to post anything. Fortunately, this error is easily rectified by digging deep into my book shelf for a poem by recently departed Star Trek actor-director-poet Leonard Nimoy.

"Old Fashioned Spaceman" is fairly representative of the collection as a whole: Nimoy's style is free form, devoid of traditional  punctuation, with occasional rhyme, and frequently self-referential. There are few writer's who can use their own careers, especially an iconic character initially brought to life on a television screen, as a means of providing cultural allusion ("logic"). As we know, though, Leonard "Mr. Spock" Nimoy was not your normal cat.
The typography and publishing elements in this collection (gold hues, New Times-Roman font, bright, chalky strokes of color) strongly suggest the Vintage Hallmark poetry editions sold at the greeting card shops of my youth. These volumes, and my weekend evenings watching Star Trek, represent the breadth and depth of my youthful poetic experience. The warm traditional presentation (the very pleasant and joyful headshot of Mr. Nimoy on the cover for example) occasionally comes into contrast with the cold (logical?) tone established in the lines of poetry. One could interpret this contradiction and  of publishing style and content to reinforce the conflict Nimoy himself once felt about his association with the character.

My hard cover of Warmed By Love is a gift from many star-dates ago, so I am unsure whether it is still in print. If you do happen across it, I recommend picking it up as it is very readable, and worthy of some consideration beyond the kitsch value. Of course my own appreciation of Mr. Nimoy's poetry may be because I, too, often feel like an "old fashioned spaceman."

My Notebooks & I

A few of my notebooks, and, yes, Michael Jackson's Invincible CD from 2001.

A basic suggestion that I have for my highschoolers who enjoy writing, but find themselves at a loss for subjects or ideas, is to carry a notebook with them during their daily travels. In the modern age, of course, you could sensibly substitute some sort of i-thing, I prefer ye ol' pen and spiral bound notebook approach. (Full disclosure: I have on occasion used the "Notes" function of my cell phone.) For times such as the current quarantine, they also provide an interesting way to look back on prior thinking and experiences as a means of mining for subject matter.


My thought process: connecting
Into Thin Air to Shakespeare
to Star Trek V.

In my estimation, this is slightly different than the Writing Journals I have my own students keep in class, though ideally the outcomes of  are similar. Those of my students who most seek to develop their skill (and love) of writing seem to understand and embrace the idea of two writing "journals': one for school that is more teacher directed and a second that is personal.


If math classes can watch Numbers
as curriculum, why not
CSI:NY for English?

In-class journaling is among the most enjoyable activities I have my students work on year long, for both of us. A subtle distinction is to be made between the two (in-class and in-pocket) writing journals. Different than a personal journal, or traditional diary, in-class writer's notebooks allow students to explore potential writing ideas at their own pace with the guidance of their teacher.

In all of my grade 11 (and in years past, 9, 10 and 12) English classes, students are asked to bring a Composition Book on the second day of school for safe keeping in our classroom. I recycle those left behind by prior students (after removing the completed original owner's entries) or purchase new ones for those who don't have access to supplies outside of school. Every few classes, students are provided with a prompt to get their writing juices flowing. While these entries are evaluated with points and feedback, the evaluation is not for content in as much as for quantity of information put forth and the quality of details provided (or whatever is is loosely prescribed by the prompt). Grammar, punctuation, consistent verb tenses are not important, I am looking for thinking.

I warned you that it was
bad imagery.

Personally, I am a proponent of the personal diary (or to confuse matters more, "personal journal") for my own purposes. While I, too, respond to the same prompts my students do as a means of modeling, I also almost always have a small spiral bound notebook with me (preferably in my shirt pocket). There, I keep notes as I fumble through my days. Some of what I scribble is related to work activities that I need to follow through on, items I need to pick up on the way home, books/artists/authors/websites that are mentioned to me in passing that I would like to learn more about, and even recipes that may be fun to make at home. Mixed in is the occasional story idea, image that has struck me, or haiku jottings.

The key for me here is that while these may seem like a disjointed collection of notes, ramblings or badly conceived poetry drafts, ultimately they may (just may) serve as fodder for some later project or piece I am moved to draft for my own pleasure. More often they just become part of a collection of notebooks that I'll thumb through for inspiration when none is to be found elsewhere.

But, for now anyway, they wait quietly on my shelf awaiting future mining...

Welcome Back (Again) John Greenleaf Whittier

A rather extraordinary individual, in addition to being a tremendous poet, John Greenleaf Whittier seems to have sadly disappeared from the public school curriculum. (Full disclosure: Though to be fair, I am unclear as to how significant a part of it he ever was.) Despite being beloved by a who's who of American poets (as evidenced by guest list of attendees at his seventieth birthday dinner in 1877: Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Mark Twain, and Oliver Wendell Holmes), the poet's name draws only blank stares from students when asked about his works, though I would venture to guess in the New England region he is much more well-regarded (and remembered).

My introduction to the works of Whittier was through an assignment given to my students last year. Each student was assigned an American literary movement and genre. Along with general information such as relative dates, each student was also supplied with the names of relatively familiar representative authors. For those assigned the Fireside Poets, a Northeast regional sub-genre, Whittier was one of those suggested starting point for research. Wikipedia notes that while Whittier was "[H]ighly regarded in his lifetime and for a period thereafter, he is now remembered for his poem 'Snow-Bound'..." I vividly recall students' having a difficult time finding much background information that was not clearly form a single source. I had asked students to used resources from the library as well, and while our school librarians were more than willing to assist in digging through the meager collection of poetry books available ion site, the actual hard cover sources where limited to a dusty anthology which included a single poem.

Just as his spirit was briefly conjured in my upstate New York classroom a number of year's ago, Thanksgiving gives me an opportunity to all on John Greenleaf Whittier once again. Given the subject matter, Whittier's popular poem, "The Pumpkin," lacks the political bent of his more renowned abolitionist works, but through its simple, accessible images of comfirting pumpkin pie shares with "Snow-Bound" the purpose of showing how the idyllic past can be brought briefly to the present.


Sources:
Poets.org
Poemhunter.com
Wikipedia

Reviewing the Old Ways the Old Way

Original box for Gary Synder's audio book The Practice of the Wild (1991).

Despite his voice being a touch higher than I recall, perhaps due to the tape being too tightly wound on a long undisturbed cassette, The Practice of the Wild cassette book is very much how I recall the poet sounding back in 1991 when I heard him speak at Nazareth College. At least I think it was Nazareth College. While cleaning out the attic a few weeks ago, I came across a small collection of books-on-tape that I purchased shortly after  graduating from college with my undergraduate degree in English Literature/Secondary Education. Among them was the aforementioned double cassette. In an age of digital sound, listening to the tapes took a little effort, especially as we, like most American homes, have converted everything to CDs and digital download. After procuring my late father's Walkman, I was ready to take another walk in the woods...

Like many college English Literature majors, I was introduced to the work of Gary Snyder in an introductory poetry course, and as a young man growing up in an urban neighborhood attending Catholic elementary school, the content and perspective was exotic and new. At the time, I had not traveled beyond the freeway connecting our home to my relatives' outside Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and the idea of anyone espousing a belief system outside a Judeo-Christian one was unfamiliar to me. Snyder's poetry then was a gateway to the larger school of thought he represented and further (if not a touch more concretely) articulated later in a number of essay collections. If the earlier Earth House Hold (1969) or Myths and Texts (1960) appealed to the revolutionary spirit most moderately embrace in undergraduate studies, the nine essays that comprised The Practice of the Wild spoke to the adult domesticity I found myself accepting as a parent shortly after graduation.

The Practice of the Wild (1991) double cassette runs 3 hours and is a traditional book on tape in that its contents reflect those of the original text, published a year earlier in 1990. Having the text read by Snyder lends an added sense of gravitas and nobility to the its already comforting and airy message. In many ways, my experience to listening to Snyder's verbally share his work is reminiscent of listening to classic music on the way  to work with my untrained ear. Both are incredibly comfortable auditory experiences that establish an educated yet grounded mood. On rare occasions some small understanding is revealed to me as the recipient.

Much like a film with many quotable lines, The Practice of the Wild has many phrases and sayings that since its initial publication have become popularized as inspirational quotes, such as “With no surroundings there can be no path, and with no path one cannot become free.” Also like a quality movie with many good lines, the parts are even stronger when taken as part of a whole. The tape (and book) both add depth and meaning to Snyder's personal philosophy of compassion for all sentient beings, a class in which he includes mountains, trees and water. Key to continuing to foster and nurture this relationship with all beings is allowing our language to grow and develop in a manner that suggests the interdependence necessary for survival. "Wild," "nature," and "place" are just three of the words that Synder's clarification of within the context of his environmental politics, serve as common entry points for those unfamiliar with his thinking. As someone who is superficially aware--and deeply appreciative of--Snyder's work, I find myself always in need of a re-engagement with his brand of deep ecology. This rewiring of our linguistic present is just a precursor to what Snyder hopes will blossom into a radical restructuring of modern living in accordance with his ideas.

I seem to recall having seen a more current version of The Practice of the Wild text with the audio book included, but was unable to find it on line. Fortunately, Snyder is such a beloved literary-cultural figure that many of his speaking appearances and interviews have been capture on video and are available for viewing on YouTube. If unable to find the book-on-tape, you could do much worse than spending a few minutes with Gary Snyder at Colorado College in 2015. 

A Muster of Faux Classroom Crows

More than just someone to watch over our accolades and team pictures.  (10/11/13)

Over the past five(!) years, I have purchased an artificial crow/raven to adorn my classroom each year. (Yes, crows and raven are NOT the same, but as birds, the two possess enough superficial similarities that I use the names synonymously--fortunately I am not an ornithology teacher.) At the conclusion of each school year, I remove them from the shelves, screens and unused, ancient tech around the room until the following August at which time they will each return to (slightly) different locations.

The crow chick perched on the 

deer skull is a recent addition. When 

it's previous perch, this was taken, 

the mounted television was removed, 

the small crow moved around before 

settling there. (9/1/15)

The first faux crow found it's way into our classroom in the same way most English literature teachers acquire them, as a prop for an October reading of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven." In each successive year, however,  I have continued to acquire a new one during the Halloween decoration sales at local party supply stores. Nowadays, Halloween decorations are on sale in mid-August (along with Thanksgiving things!), hence this year's pre-school-purchase.

A morbid, and astute, reader may presuppose that the presence of a murder (or muster) suggests something "bad" is going to happen in this room. Though in Medieval time ravens would tend to congregate on the battlefield to feast on the corpses of the fallen, that depressing intention is not what's behind this style choice--at least not intentionally. Each new school year the presence of the artificial ravens in the classroom elicits a now familiar question from new students: "What's with all the birds/crows/ravens?"

As ours is an English classroom, I like to have some literature-based responses to the question of "why", ranging from the familiar to the esoteric (with secret hopes that during the course of our time together, the unusual will become more familiar). Just a few responses with a literary bent that I may offer during varying points int eh school year include:

As fate would have it, this freebie
poster was received in my school
mail today! (9/1/15)

• "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe: Most students are at least vaguely familiar with the poem if for no other reason than it's pop culture references in many a comedic television aside. For some, even those who've "read" it, the symbolism of the raven is often not so clear. Given the poem's close association with Halloween, they do understand it to be somehow dark or evil. Morbid, right?
• Did you know that good ol' Willy Shakes refers to the raven more often than to any other bird? In a number of William Shakespeare's works such as Othello and Macbeth (a play we will work with during the school year), the black bird makes an appearance. For example in Lady Macbeth's speech in Act I Scene V of Macbeth: "The Raven himself is hoarse/That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan/Under my battlements...".
• With any luck, we will be reading some excerpts from Keith Baines' translation of Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur this year, whcih allows for this connection: in Celtic mythology, ravens are often associated with warfare and the battleground (especially in Irish mythology). In Welsh mythology, ravens figure as the army of King Arthur's knight Owain. King Arthur's messianic return is an aspect of the legend of King Arthur, the mythical 6th-century British king. One recurrent aspect of Arthurian literature was the notion that he would one day return in the role of a messiah to save his people. Other less common concepts include the idea that Arthur was absent leading the Wild Hunt, or that he had been turned into a crow or raven.



Someone has to use the
ancient overhead--why not a
Raven? (10/11/13)

• A Feast for Crows by George R. R. Martin is the fourth of seven planned novels in the epic fantasy "A Song of Ice and Fire" series of novels. The words "crow" and "raven" play multiple roles throughout the series. The most obvious for those who have never read the books or seen the HBO show is the historical one suggested above: A Feast for Crows clearly suggests (though no surprise to fans) that this book will have a hefty headcount of dead to be eaten.  Also, in the Fire and Ice mythology, a "Crow" is the name given to those men who serve on the Wall, the immense ice structure which separates the northern border of the Seven Kingdoms from the lands beyond. Men of the Watch dress entirely in black, giving rise to the nickname "crows"--which is what the Free Folk commonly call them. Finally, characters uses ravens as messenger birds throughout the series. Additionally, the Three-eyed raven appears in Bran Stark's dreams to guide him on a quest. Interesting side note, I had not previously realized: The first name "Bram" is derived from a convergence of two separate etymological sources, one being an abbreviation of "Abraham", but the other being the Gaelic word "bran", meaning "raven". That Martin guy is clever!
• In the past my students and I have read and analyzed J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit (1937), a novel chock full of inetersting tidbits about archettypes and etymology. This was also news to me, but really cool: Roäc is the leader of the Ravens of the Lonely Mountain. Roäc was the son of Carc, and as such "a descendant of those [ravens] that had remained on the hill even after Smaug had driven out their old allies, the Dwarves". Roäc is likely an onomatopoeic name. (Source: Tolkien Gateway)

Like good literature, I like to allow for a number of possible interpretations. For this particular artificial classroom muster, I choose to leave just "what" they mean, ambiguous, though surely those students who fail to put forth energy and effort will see them as circling their the fading life of their individual grades, and others will see them as delivers of a message of growth and learning that will allow them to reach new heights.

A panoramic view of a classroom surrounded by faux crows circa October 2013.

Haiga

School courtyard at noon. (12/4/14)

Deserted courtyard,
hungry crow pecks wilted sod—
autumn silence grows.

Haiku v. Haiku: Fight 2014!

With National Poetry Month kicking off this week, I didn't want to miss the opportunity to lay the groundwork for some haiku writing in my Advanced Placement Language and Composition courses. In order to mix things up slightly, rather than requiring that students simply generate two haiku, I assigned them to develop a Dueling Haiku. With Spring Break and AP exam administration on the horizon, what better time to still ourselves in the interest of crafting haiku? Our initiating activity was intended to covertly inspire students to collect the clay that would ultimately be shaped into their dueling haiku.

Initial journaling prompt.

Past experience has shown me that the "write about Nature, because we're going to write haiku" approach is lacking, I first shared a prompt (posted to the right) that would--if explained correctly--result in two 50-70 word free-writes about naturally occurring, potentially oppositional, animals or elements. The prompt does not overtly suggest that the final outcome will be two haiku (which when placed side-by-side are dueling), but rather nudges students to focus their thinking and writing on a specific subject as well as its opposite number. It was helpful to share some examples of potential topics that while initially too broad, could be refined in such a manner as to yield appropriate fodder for the poetic grist.

While students have been shown how to write haiku since elementary school, I annually like to revisit the form with them. The hope in doing this is to reveal some new background information, or to at least elicit from them a poem or two that does not consist solely of seventeen syllables thoughtlessly puked out on a paper ten minutes prior to class.

Some students insist that the haiku is an "easy" poetic form to master. My response to these shows of hubris is that "Writing crappy haiku is as easy as 5-7-5." Crafting good haiku takes time. The challenge here is to impress upon students that simply stringing together enough syllables in a familiar structure (5-7-5) does not mean one is "good" at writing them. I find it helpful to remind students that the while the form they (and I) have been taught since childhood is "haiku," it is not purely haiku in the Eastern sense, but more of a Westernized "traditional" Haiku form. The basic rules are well-know: haiku are comprised of 17 syllables, arranged in 3 unrhymed lines of 5-7-5 syllables and the content should evoke or link to the natural world.

The modified evaluative tool.

The use of the word "opposition" in the instructions can be confusing for students as there is no actual "conflict" or coordination between the two poems, only the potential for the reader to sense the opposing/contradictory/differing nature of the two forces, animals or moments. As I explain to the students, while there is no "shared DNA" between the two, there should exist an implied connection that is discernible to the reader. While the two poems can stand alone as well-crafted haiku, when paired together they offer a sens of opposition or express the dual nature of a subject.

Each time I deliver this lesson and assign the corresponding task, results vary. The majority of students can generate three unrhymed lines in a 5-7-5 syllable structure. Not all can write haiku that give pause for reflection on the image.  Often times the resulting poems are quite impressive, and my hopes are that some images will pop with evocative language this year, too.

Poetry Snack: In the Trail of the Wind

The Great Spirit is in all things, he is in the air we breathe. The Great Spirit is our Father, but the Earth is our Mother. She nourishes us, that which we put into the ground she returns to us...~Big Thunder (Bedagi) Wabanaki Algonquin

While walking the hallways of school in the moments before students begin arriving, I recently noticed an old friend looking back at me through the library's display window. Among a collection of "Thanksgiving-themed" tomes bathed in faux leaves and seasonal orange/yellow was a slender hard copy I had recalled buying myself almost 25(!) years ago: In The Trail of the Wind: American Indian Poems and Ritual Orations, edited by John Bierhorst, it remains one of those anthologies I keep on my bookshelf for the occasional poetry snack. Recalling my earlier mental note, upon arriving home, I  once again made time time to take a taste.

Even after so many years and selective re-reading, In the Trail of the Wind remains a go-to collection for easing my mind in moments such as these. Originally purchased from the Liftbridge Bookstore in Brockport, New York, during my undergraduate days, it remains a welcome read especially during the transitional autumn days from patchwork leaf piles to the white fluffiness of the first snowfall. The first of its kind, In the Trail of the Wind is a cross-cultural anthology that brings into focus the similarities between tribes as widely separated as the Sioux and the Aztec, the Cherokee and the ancient Maya.

In the Trail of the Wind is one of the books that has followed me from place to place, apartment to apartment, home to home. It was among my first introductions to the written record of the Native American oral tradition, a genre for which my appreciation has only grown. Here are two poetry selections accompanied by brief remarks:

This Newly Created World (Winnebago Traditional)

Pleasant it looked,
this newly created world.
Along the entire length and breadth
of the earth, our grandmother,
extended the green reflection
of her covering
and the escaping odors
were pleasant to inhale.

"...(the) extended green reflection" This line brings me back to the early summer mornings during which time would I regularly walk the dog or go for a run. At these times, usually between 4:30-6:00 a.m., the dew is still heavy on the grass and trees. Occassionally, you can see the reflection of the streetlights or moon on the lawns, "along (thier) entire length and breadth..."

"...the escaping odors/were pleasant to inhale." Think about your earliest memories... if you're like me, you don't always "remember" much until your senses are stimulated and the memories triggered. For me, the olfactory sense is strong and a simple odor can release a myriad memories, that might otherwise remain unrevealed. On a number of occasions I've walked through a mall, store or park, only to be sent backwards through picking up a passing scent...

The Lands Around My Dwelling (Eskimo Traditional)

The lands around my dwelling
Are more beautiful
From the day
When it is given me to see
Faces I have never seen before.
All is more beautiful,
All is more beautiful,
and life is thankfulness.
These guests of mine
Make my house grand.

How big is your "house?" Are the faces of those you don't know well, welcome in your house, and if not, how beautiful is your house? How much more beautiful and grand could it be if it were metaphorically larger and  literally, more inclusive?

My current sedentary state of activity is a bummer, but good organic poetry always makes me feel a (little) better and more motivated to get back out there, walking and moving beyond the school hallways. I am heartened that, as evidenced by its appearance in our school library's display case, In the Trail of the Wind continues to be available for purchase and, more appropriately here, borrowing. First published in 1972, at least twenty-five years before most of the students in the school were even born, it has been regularly revised and re-released since then. Here's to hoping that some student elects to choose it for their own reflective poetry snack...

Sources:
Goodreads Entry

Gaming Retro Review: Beowulf (2007)

This is my first year teaching twelfth grade literature and as such my first pass through a number of selections as a teacher, rather than for purely entertainment purposes. I am so pleased to write that much of the literature I've reread has been both educational and entertaining, something which does not always seem to be the case. First up was the classic epic poem Beowulf.

Using the popular Seamus Heaney translation as the source document for our analysis was a plus, given its accessibility to the modern reader. One other unusual benefit was the both the fairly recent 2007 Beowulf film adaptation and the recent success of A Game of Thrones television show, both providing some initial context.

Just as Ecgtheow beget Beowulf, so did the film adaptation, directed by Robert Zemeckis (Forest Gump, Cast Away), beget a video game for the most popular gaming consoles of the time, including the XBOX 360. Both the movie and video game received generally poor reviews (and neither has characterization that--for my tastes--reflect that offered in Heaney's, or nay, translation), but this fact hasn't stopped many an English teacher from showing clips of the beautifully rendered Heorot Hall and Hrothgar's kingdom to assist in establishing the poem's setting for students.

The overall quality of the game, a used copy of which I purchased for $4.99 at a local video game store, is really not that open to debate, certainly not in the eyes of the market--it was much derided and inspired little support from gamers. Those students of mine who recall having received it at the tender age of ten years-old hold no fond memories of it, telling me simply, "it sucked." This did not stop me, however, from giving it a look-see to judge what, if anything, it brought to the "original" story, much as Zemeckis'  film played with quite a few accepted plot points. As well as altering enough of the character dynamics to make my showing it in class (beyond the ten minutes at the start), unnecessary and even counter-productive to an analysis of the themes and archetypes.

Beowulf: The Game's "chant challenges" are unique,
though ultimately frustrating.

Despite a fair degree of clunky game play which made even the most basic level of difficulty frustrating, to the game designer Ubisoft's credit, there is an attempt to utilize the full spectrum of X-BOX 360's controllers in a number of unique ways, most notably to "chant challenges" which require punching in long and short "tones" in rapid succession to prompt characters to a variety of actions such as moving barriers or rowing galleys.

Just as the movie fleshed out elements of the story in the interest of shaping the narrative to modern sensibilities, The Game takes advantage of the additional time to fill in spaces in certain key character relationships rather than simply retelling the story as paced in the the movie. In the game, Breca becomes much more of a foil early on and the challenges he and Beowulf face together increase. (Unfortunately, the actualization of these challenges--"giant" sand crabs the size of small dogs?--does reduce the sense of danger inherent in the the opposition.)

You are Beowulf!

There are also small cosmetic changes to the characters designs as presented in the film The Game was released to support. For example, Beowulf is now clothed while battling Grendel: a concession that would seem to have been made to allow for a broader potential market, though the increased amount of pixellated blood drawn from each sword slash would seem to be counter intuitive to that purpose. Many of Beowulf's "kills" are brutal (in the movie and game), and The Game earns it's M Rating based on those merits alone... which begs the question: why change that aspect of the game except that it might be more marketable to play as a murdering savage warrior who is fully clothed.

Much of my appreciation of Beowulf: The Game comes from both the cost incurred for the copy I bought ($4.99) and my interest in comparing and contrasting filmmaker Zemeckis's extended vision for the character with that of Heaney. Had I plopped down $50, seven years ago, my venom toward the game might be equal to that of reviewers of the day. Now, year's removed from the hype, and neck deep in analysis and class discussion, I can think of many more wasteful ways to drop a few dollars and wile away a few hours, than Beowulf: The Game.

Two Cardinal Pics & One Haiga

Cardinal on hanging planter of wave petunias. (6/16/13)

Sunday afternoon, while talking with my kids who had stopped by to wish me a Happy Father's Day, my son noticed this Northern Cardinal sitting in the planter outside the house. Fortunately that little guy stayed there for long enough for me to grab my camera and get outside to take pictures. My daughter later noted that it was "like he was posing for you!"

Often I'll use moments captured on film (or as digital images) as visual haiku prompts. In truth, when I employ this strategy, what I am writing can best be defined as a haiga. Haiga is a style of Japanese painting based on the aesthetics of haiku, and usually including a haiku. Today, haiga artists combine haiku with paintings, photographs and other art. A haiga (haiku + image, in my case, photographs). The wonderful thing about haiku is that whether what you generate is "good" or "bad" there is always something (a moment) "around" one to offer worthy inspiration.

Cardinal. (6/16/13)

Toes clutching chipped paint
trellis, Cardinal awaits
whatever comes next.

American Sentences Redux

Two examples shaped from my own freewriting in class.

Following our recent work with the traditional 5-7-5 haiku format (albeit with subject matter that was more reminiscent of a senryu), I decided to continue an exploration of compressed language forms by introducing my AP classes to a new, less well-known play on the 17 syllable poetic form, the American Sentence. A truly Western take on the Eastern haiku, this form originated by late Beat poet Allen Ginsberg.


"Publishing" student work from class chart paper drafts.

Ginsberg saw haiku, and the American sentence, as a means of compressing poetry to get "Maximum information" with "minimum number of syllables.” This compressed form allowed for the possibility that Ginsberg's notion that poets are people who notice what they notice could be accessible to everyone.

Though some of my students struggled with writing "good" haiku, I'm hoping that the more concrete, urban bent of the American Sentence will make for more lively, dynamic drafts. I have taught this form for nearly three years now with what I have felt have been pretty good results. The move from haiku to American sentence is a natural one. While still adhering to the 17 syllable standard of the traditional haiku, the imagery included in the American sentence is presented in a linear fashion reflective of the left-to-right reading of English as opposed to the top-to-bottom approach in Japanese haiku.

The process of crafting American sentence is one that lends itself to the existing management activities in my classroom. Students know to pick up their writing journals each day upon entering the classroom. Before even revealing the form, I ask them to freewrite about the lends itself easily to classroom writing process, beginning with a free write. This will give the writer the "clay" with which to shape their lines. The prompt is straightforward: In the next 6 minutes, relax, observe and capture via free write personal sense-based observations about the world around you (our classroom). Use as descriptive a language as you are capable. While it is not incumbent on you to use figurative language strategies, you may find that they come to you—write them down.

Following this journaling exercise, I introduced the class to the form more, well, formally. Based on my own research,  I suggested to the class that an exemplary product would include at least one of the following:

After sharing my own freewrite notes, and modelling the culling of a few possible images for further development into "popping" American sentences, I share the following quick-and-easy process for crafting their own:

As a ways of making the form more collaborative, I asked students to contribute to a chain of lines, by first writing two American Sentences, then selecting the one they felt best met the criteria (evocative, imagisitc, approximately 17 syllables in length). This activity was completed for each of my three Advanced Placement Language and Composition courses, resulting in three community  poems of 20+ lines apiece.

After sharing our class collaborative American Sentence Chain, I task each student with taking the activity home to their friends and families. Students were assigned to both explain this unique poetic form to their victims volunteers and facilitate each person's development of a unique, personal American sentence. The final 17 syllable (fingers-crossed) sentence,  was to then be added to the student's own American sentence chain.

Of course, if the syllable count varies slightly, that's "all good." The American sentence was the result of Ginsberg believing that haiku in the Western tradition placed too much emphasis on counting (syllables), at the expense of developing image. The goal, as with a haiku, is to communicate and image, and if you're luck (or good) evoke a response in the reader.

Haiku vs. Haiku... FIGHT!

Teacher examples of Dueling Haiku.

Yesterday in English Class, with AP Language and Composition exams in the rear view window and the upcoming English Regents 11 not posing much of a concern, I began working with my eleventh graders on first analysing, and then writing haiku. While students have been "taught" how to write haiku since kindergarten, I annually like to revisit the from with them, in hopes of sharing some new background information, or at least eliciting from them a poem or two that does not consist solely of seventeen syllables thoughtlessly puked out on a paper ten minutes prior to class.

Writing good haiku takes time. This is what I tell students who insist on the ease with which this particular form is mastered. The challenge here is to impress upon students that simply stringing together enough syllables in a familiar structure (5-7-5) does not mean one is "good" at writing them. Today in class we first started by reading four different haiku by different authors, including Basho.

It is important to remind students that the while the form they (and I) have been taught since childhood is "haiku," it is not purely haiku in the Eastern sense, but more of a Westernized "traditional" Haiku form. The basic rules are well-know: haiku are comprised of 17 syllables, arranged in 3 unrhymed lines of 5-7-5 syllables and the content should evoke or link to the natural world.

In order to mix things up slightly, rather than asking students to simply generate two haiku, I assigned them to develop two Dueling Haiku. A form I found online a number of years ago, a single Dueling Haiku consists of a pair of individual haiku that each focus or express forces, animals or seasons which can be seen as being in opposition to one another.

The use of the word "opposition" in the instructions can be confusing for students as there is no actual "conflict" or coordination between the two poems, only the potential for the reader to sense the opposing/contradictory/differing nature of the two forces, animals or moments. As I explain to the students, while there is no "shared DNA" between the two, there should exist an implied connection that is discernible to the reader. While the two poems can stand alone as well-crafted haiku, when paired together they offer a sens of opposition or express the dual nature of a subject.

At the top of this post are two examples of Dueling Haiku that I wrote and ultimately shared with the class.  Each time I deliver this lesson and assign the corresponding task, results vary. The majority of students can generate three unrhymed lines in a 5-7-5 syllable structure. Not all can write haiku that give pause for reflection on the image.  Often times the resulting poems are quite impressive, and my hopes are that this some images will pop with evocative language this year, too.

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!

Found Poem & Process

Don’t reuse the leaves
of black walnut trees... Stop the
disease from spreading.

I have occasionally come across found poetry in the past, and did so again today while researching some information for intended use in writing a haiku to go along with a photograph I recently snapped, the resulting pairing of which was to be a haiga of sorts. That exercise was table in favor of the found poem posted above.

Having haiku-on-the-mind, as I read the article entitled "Decaying leaves can be used to make lawn, beds lusher" from The Columbus Dispatch, words began to fall in place. While it was not what I had initially set out to do, I was pleased to have put together this haiku, albeit through the re-arrangment of another's words.

What's in a Name?

Spelling errors aside, there is an anecdote here...

Each day there is at least one trending hash tag on Twitter that requires some introspection whether silly (#tweetapicofyourfriendf*****up) or reflective (#itishardformeto), and as modern teen, my son often joins in the online community high jinks. I, in turn, (as a conscientious modern parent) "creep" on his responses so I have a clue as to what's going on.

A few weeks ago the Twitter exchange above took place between he and I, following his response to the trending #TweetANameYouAlmostGot. As you cane see, he mentioned on oft-told story (more of an "exchange" really) wherein he had nearly be dubbed "Geronimo" by his mother and I. In truth this was more a product of my desires, and ultimately it was her decision (rightly) to name him as he was. Like many young couples, we had spent quite a bit of time looking through baby name books and writing down ideas before settling on some names that would both work, and perhaps more importantly, appease our families.

I am a believer that there is something to the eventual response to the question "What's in a name?" but not necessarily that it is the seed of some self-fulfilling prophesy that the bearer can't escape. If you think about it, if naming resulted in a one-hundred percent predictive quality, why would anyone continue to bestow three names upon their child, as nearly any time some nut job commits a horrific crime they begin referring to he or she by their formal three-name moniker?

So, where did the idea of "Geronimo" come from? How was it that my son almost ended up with that as his name? As with many things in life, it all started with a poem...


Lifted from Public Radio's Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keiller website.

Since my days as an English major back in undergraduate school, Gary Snyder has been a favorite poet of mine. When I first came across this poem, it occurred to me what a great name Geronimo would be for a child, especially a son. Beyond the historical strength of the man, the tenderness and intimacy Snyder seems to imbue the name with, in describing his own son (at least as I interpreted the poem), seemed to result in a solid, strong, and sensitive name. Many years later, when my son's mother and I were planning for his birth, I suspect she humored me with even momentarily "agreeing" to it, I knew I had little chance in winning that "battle." In the end it wasn't about winning a fight, but about having a healthy baby anyway.

So even though we went with a slightly more traditional name (despite it not being so traditional in Upstate New York), his "nickname," Jack, proved to be one I had hoped for as well. Even if my son son did not get the reach name I had wanted, he has grown into a strong sensitive lad, so, what's in a name anyway?

Resources:
Remembering Geronimo on the 100th Anniversary of His Death by Gregory McNamee

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.

Winter Reading: Best Tales of the Yukon

Little touches like the image prior to each poem make this a
very handsome publication from Running Press.

It has been remarkably warm of late, which translates into outdoor activity in the form of yard work and de-Christmas-ing the house. All this weekend does not however mean that I haven't been doing my best to continue with my Winter Reading. Reading suggestions often come from the most unusual places. Take for instance, my formal introduction to Robert W. Service.

A few years ago, while writing practice Regents exams with some colleagues in my school district (we were researching paired prose and poetry selections) one suggested a poem by Service. As this particular colleague was something of a self-ascribed "intellectual," I wanted to immediately dismiss the suggestion (and the poet). The connection proved too strong, however, and I found myself purchasing a collection of his works shortly thereafter.

Best Tales of the Yukon, published in 2003, is a collection of the writings bank teller Robert W. Service crafted following his transfer, in 1904, by the Canadian Bank of Commerce to the Yukon Territory. Prior to my introduction to his work, I must confess that I was really missing something by not having previously been introduced to the colorful characters and rugged, back country experiences Service shared in his writing.

For example, take this first stanza from "The Men that Don't Fit":

There's a race of men that don't fit in,
  A race that can't stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
  And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
  And they climb the mountain's crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
  And they don't know how to rest.

Restless, hungry, agitated. Good writing, and great poetry, is timeless and the unapologetic wanderlust Service speaks of in that poem, among others, speaks to that longing for adventure that lies within all of us. Unlike the poet, though, some of us have yet to have had fate (or career) take us to that locale of high adventure... or have Service's gift for making whatever place we are at a setting for the lively interaction that satiates one's "itchy feet."

Service's poetry strikes me as being particularly "masculine" in its diction and tone. Whether factually based or not, I envision the neat, professional gentleman writer, among the rugged Arctic he-men, writing about the adventures and situations he experiences in his imagination when surrounded by the mountains.

Here's another tiny sample from "The Lone Trail":

The trails of the world be countless, and most of the trails be tried;
You tread on the heels of the many, till you come where the ways divide;
And one lies safe in the sunlight, and the other is dreary and wan,
Yet you look aslant at the lone Trail, and the Lone Trail lures you on.

Few of Service's poems are what the casual reader would consider "brief," and most are full of descriptive language with a fairly narrative sensibility to them. Though well known for character driven poems such as "The Shooting of Dan McGee," I found myself rereading more of his, I guess I would deem them, "adventure poems": those which describe (and romanticise) the rough an tumble life of the rip-roaring Klondike.

If stories (in poetic form) of Northern adventure are your cup of tea, than this collection (though there are others collections which may be easier to find) will be worth searching out. There are also a number of poems available for reading and sharing online, too. Given the very pleasant surprise Service was for me, even if you, like I, have had no previous interest in his poetry, you could much worse than give Robert W. Service a try on a cold winter's day.

Winter Reading: Cold Mountain Poems

In a society of admittedly diminishing attention spans, I wish that genres that are inherently "shorter," rather than those that are faux-edgier (Fifty Shades, anyone?) would find more widespread acceptance. Even if the length (and therefore perceived "ease" of reading) weren't the hook, it would be wonderful to have more folks engage in simply picking up a published book of poetry with the intent of taking a taste. This is how I came across the first of a number of versions (translations) of Cold Mountain poetry, originally written by Chinese Tang Dynasty hermit/poet, Hanshan.

During this time of year, though a calendar week away from the official start of Winter, during which the air not only turns colder, but as current events show us, the hearts and actions of some individuals do as well, I feel a need to pull one of the slim volumes from the bookshelf to cleanse my spiritual pallet.

Over the past 20+ years, I have come across a number of volumes, starting first with Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems by Gary Snyder, of which translations of Hanshan's works are a significant part. Here is the second poem in the collection of 24 included therein.

2

In a tangle of cliffs, I chose a place -
Bird paths, but no trails for me.
What's beyond the yard?
White clouds clinging to vague rocks.
Now I've lived here - how many years -
Again and again, spring and winter pass.
Go tell families with silverware and cars
"What's the use of all that noise and money?"

Not much is known about Hanshan. What is known is that there is a fairly large catalog of poetry attributed to a Zen monk, who like many cave-dwellers took his name from the place he lived--cold mountain. Each of his poems tells its own tale, and it's up to you, the reader, to feel the quality of the energy within yourself.  A second edition that I have for rereading is Cold Mountain: 100 Poems by the T'ang Poet Han-shan translated by Burton Watson. The language used in these translations is a sligthly less sparse and modern feeling, but no less powerful and clean:

2

A thatched hut is home for a country man;
Horse or carriage seldom pass my gate:
Forests so still all the birds come to roost,
Broad valley streams always full of fish.
I pick wild fruit in my hand with my child,
Till the hillside fields with my wife.
And in my house, what do I have?
Only a bed piled high with books.

A third volume, featuring translated by Arthur Tobias, James Sanford and J.P. Seaton, is The View from Cold Mountain: Poems of Han-shan and Shih-te .  Note the difference in structure and absence of punctuation... and also the power of the lines:

4

My heart is like the autumn moon
perfectly bright in the deep green pool
nothing can compare with it
you tell me how it can be explained

23

Despite the obstacles I pursued the great monk
the misty mountains a million layers high
he pointed to the road back home
one round moon lantern of the sky

Though some of the books mentioned above are no longer in print, there are a few more recent translations available for purchase, and Gary Synder's Riprap recently had a fiftieth anniversary edition published.

Enjoy!