Tag Archives: poetry

Open Letter to Mr. Holt

Dear Mr. Holt,

I wish you were here to see me finally live up to the potential you saw in me way back in middle school (1984). I have self published my first novel. I image handing you a copy and you smiling, your eyes would get lost behind your glasses and full beard, as you hold it in both hands. You would sit at your desk, messy as always, and thumb through some pages, stopping to read a section. You would then say, “I knew you could do this.”

But you passed away in 2001.

I am sorry that it took me this long to believe. Maybe not believe, but to embrace the talent you saw in me as an awkward seventh grader who wrote poetry in his notebooks instead of notes. You let us break-dancers actually have a class to work on our moves during our eighth grade year. You always read my poetry and stories with a caring but honest insight. I still have the book of poetry you gave me from your library because I borrowed it so much. I also have the copy of Dune you let me keep from class. And yes, I still have the “book” you put together of my poetry for my senior year. Giving me my first taste of being published, even if it was put together by hand and was only 25 copies.

IMG_5662As I look at my classroom I can’t help but laugh. My bulletin boards look just like yours did. Even when I didn’t have your class you would allow me to put stuff up on your walls. I remember Scott and I visiting you at your home. You always had time for us. You always had time for me, and I wish I had told you this when you were alive.

I was the kid who was too loud at times. Even Scott’s mom mentioned that to him in junior high. I had to move away a number of times, but you were a stable factor in my life for those six school years. You made me feel that I mattered. You expanded my horizons by suggesting books; yes, Catcher in the Rye is still my favorite book of all time. You let me sit by the window and understood that I heard you even while I wrote poetry instead of grammar notes.

It is teacher appreciation week. The best way I know how to say thank you is to share my talent with you and the world. A talent you helped develop. Writing. I miss you, Mr. Holt. Thank you for being my English teacher.

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Dreams Deferred…

Last week one of my English classes studied “Harlem” by Langston Hughes. Many people know this poem as “A Dream Deferred.” One of the reasons I love literature and especially poetry is the joy to connect our life to the theme of the work.

The historical message of the poem is rooted in the dream of civil rights and still reflects the struggle we have as a society to fulfill that dream. But I think why the poem has such universal appeal is that Langston Hughes touched on such a deep pain we all face in our lives; dreams deferred.

Here is a moment of honesty. At the moment I am struggling with this concept. I have always had a grand dream of becoming a writer. Ever since fifth grade I have filled notebooks with stories and poems. I won a young authors award in high school. I financed the publishing of a book of my own poems in college, but life just kept pushing the dream to the back burner. Now at the age of 43 it seems that time is running out to achieve that dream. And it hurts. It feels like I will never be able to achieve that goal and it is fading away.

Langston Hughes uses decaying metaphors in the middle of the poem, “ Or fester like a sore—/ And then run?,” to create a visual for the consequence to our lives if we keep pushing our dreams to another day. The dream will have become rotten.

Then mix in the discussion I had with the students about reaching for their dreams, and I think I understand the last line as it pertains to an individual.

A dream deferred destroys you.

I am not suggesting that everyone can accomplish their goals, success is never guaranteed. But we can handle failure as long as we have the opportunity to try. Being a football coach has also been a dream of mine, and I was granted the opportunity. And I failed. It hurts. It hurts bad, but I can deal with it because I was given a chance.

But what is life like when there is no chance? When it seems like nobody cares about your dream or willing to help you with it? Langston uses the line, “Maybe it just sags / like a heavy load.” A great simile here to describe the weight of that dream sitting in your heart but no opportunity to achieve it. Then everyday it gets just a little heavier. A day turns into a month, that turns into years, that turns into a life. A life that never reached its true potential.

Let’s get back to my students, your students. School. Are they striving to accomplish their dreams? Or are we asking them to push their dreams aside for better test scores, for grades, or worse for some other time in their life? Do we even know their goals?

I’m not naive enough to say that fostering our students’ dreams will solve all the world’s problems. But, what would our classroom, our schools, our world look like if we were given the opportunity and support to try?

Langston Hughes describes it this way in his poem, “I Dream a World.”

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I don’t Matter

I have been moved to tears by two movies lately, but I will get to that in a moment.

I do not matter.  Nobody really reads my blogs, or notices when I do not tweet, or update my Facebook status. This is my fist year without any coaching responsibilities, and I miss it, but the games go on.  ESU 10 will not shut down if I am not there, or even if I move on.  I do not matter on a grand scale.  But I will get back to this in a moment.

I have been moved to tears by two movies, A Better Life and Louder than a Bomb.

One of the themes that connect the two movies is the importance of the everyday.  The importance of finding the meaning in life by our everyday struggles. Whether we write poetry or work hard for our family.  These two films express the why behind those struggles and relates the power we have to make each moment matter.

I do not matter, except to a few people, most importantly my family.  I have made difficult decisions that I felt would be the best for my family.  I strive to create a better life for my wife and children.

I matter to a few students.  For all my failures, I have simply tried to empower my students to find their own voice.  Have I succeed?  Not all the time, not with all the students.  But I have tried.  Every day.

For whatever reason life has been reinforcing the idea that every day matters.  For me, for you, for the people we interact with every day.

We matter for each other.

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Education and Technology

5:45 a.m. Wednesday, Feb 22, 2012

“Dad, can I have my iPod?” my second son asks.

“No,” I reply.

My son returns to eating his breakfast.

Courtesy of Centura Student Angelica

Technology and education have been at the forefront of my thoughts lately.  Last week I got to be a part of a school’s discussion on moving to 1:1 instruction with the iPad for high school students. The teachers shared their concerns, their fears, and their excitement.

I remember being at that junction when I was a teacher at Centura.  Yes, as an English teacher I worried about the loss of the book.  I wondered how my position as the teacher would be affected in the classroom.  Years later, I find myself teaching from an office through technology only.

Yesterday, I got to teach my American Literature class from Centura.  It was energizing to be in front of the students.  To have the room filled with laughter, with questions, with that energy that comes from a group of people working and sharing.  Today, I am back at the office getting the lesson plan tweaked so we can use Socrative during the class.

One of the themes we are covering in the American Literature class is education.  We have seen how Frederick Douglass educated himself by tricking street kids in writing contests. Frederick Douglass understood that education was one part of his path to freedom from slavery.   Ralph Waldo Emerson revealed in The American Scholar that true scholars hold a powerful responsibility to our world, to reveal truth.  Emerson also states that if nothing else, a true scholar has the ability to live and by truly living we learn. My favorite poet, Langston Hughes, stated in the poem “Theme for English B” that,

The instructor said,

 Go home and write
 a page tonight.
 And let that page come out of you—
 Then, it will be true.

I wonder if it’s that simple?

…It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I’m what
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on this page.

To simply state it; the message has been that true education is a reflection of ourselves and continues our entire lifetime.

But in class we are now reading The Street by Ann Petry.  And the message has changed.  The book expresses an idea that education is just something we go through to gain a better job that allows us to have more money.  I’m not sure this doesn’t reflect what education is today.

And no technology will change that. As no pencil will change it either.  Teachers have the power to change the view of education. And yes, tools like the iPad do empower teachers to make a difference, not just for the students, but also for their own love of learning.  I’m excited as a teacher for the things I can produce with technology, like my own textbook, or a web app that will help my students learn.

So, why doesn’t my son get his iPod?  Because he has been spending too much time with it and is in trouble of not making his A.R. goal this quarter.  And it is my job to teach him the balance of using technology.  As it is a responsibility of teachers to be that person who sparks real learning in students, as Langston Hughes writes,

I guess being colored doesn’t make me not like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white—
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.

That’s American.
Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that’s true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me—
although you’re older—and white—
and somewhat more free.

Truth be told, education makes us free and connects us on deeper levels than any Facebook statues update could.  At the heart of learning we become the best of who we are.

Emerson states in the American Scholar “Life is our dictionary.” What are we helping our students write in their life?

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PicLit Poem: These Hands

Designed at PicLits.com

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Your Own

We have a hard rule in our house; you can’t say you dislike anything until you have tried it.  Yes, it helps us to get the kids to eat their vegetables at dinner (there are some vegetables that are not served in our house, but it is because we have at least tried them), but the rule stands also for other issues.  From Justin Beiber to reading The Chronicles of Narnia.  We don’t let the kids just spat out other peoples’ opinions.  Or to just dismiss something without at least knowing something about it so that they can form their own opinion.

This approach isn’t always easy, even as elementary students the playground conversation can get negative and degrading.  I am amazed at times with the negative opinions my children express at the dinner table and the range of topics these opinions cover, from songs about Barney the Dinosaur (not happy songs!) to political issues.  With just a couple of questions, I discover that the opinion comes from the playground.  My wife and I then lead the discussion for them to express what they know of the topic.  We help them to formulate what their opinion is based off what they actually know.  Other times, sadly, we have to simply say, no that is not appropriate.  Usually with songs they learn, but it still expresses an opinion.

As a dad, this saddens me in a number of ways.  I actually enjoy helping them learn about the world.  To discuss issues, to question them and yes, sometimes I over analyze things (did you know how many different themes are present in Disney’s Beauty and The Beast?).  But when did this all become so negative?  What is wrong with liking something?  Why do we have to fight so hard to have our own ideas?

Why is our first reaction to something negative? As an English teacher this attitude is almost a cliché.

Courtesy of Flickr user piper caldwell

“I hate reading.”

“I hate poetry.”

“I hate English.”

I have no problem when a student says they dislike a poem, after they have read it.  In fact, it means the poem actually affected them and gives me something to discuss with them.

What sadness me the most, and not just for my kids but for my students too, is the lost opportunities because of this attitude.  The depth of our life is not created by others’ attitudes but through our experiences.  And those experiences have to be both positive and negative.  Those opposites give us the parameters to build our own views. To make this life our own.

Designed at PicLits.com

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Where I am Today (Turning 40 post)

As I count down to my fortieth birthday, I feel like I need to write the expected “What I’ve Learned” blog post.   So, over the next three weeks I will share a series of things I’ve discovered in my first forty years of life.  But first, I’m going to start with where I am right now.

As I write this I am working from home, actually I’m at the Blue Moon having a Cinnamon Roll Latte.  I am in my third month with a new job.  To be honest, I am still adjusting.  Not just to the new job, but to what I left behind to take this opportunity.  My family is strong, and in fact doing well because of my new job.

I am a few pounds over weight, got an app to help me stay motivated with that.  I thought that sometime I would actually feel like an adult, but I don’t.  I sing in the hallways at work, tell bad jokes, and release a Woohoo! in every conversation I have.  I feel insecure, doubt barrages me all the time.  I miss my friends.  And I feel like a failure with all the goals I haven’t achieved.

Sometimes my family breaks my heart with the most beautiful moments. The way my girls say “I love you, daddy.”  Watching my son shine on stage.  The beauty of my wife’s smile.

I don’t know why, but approaching this birthday has been a challenge.  I think I have more questions then answers, but I hope to share with you a few insights over the next couple of weeks. Next Turning 40 post, “Why the past matters.”

 

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