Elm Tree Poetry 2017: Week 1 — Day 2

Hello there, Elm Tree families!

We could not have asked for a better second day! The gloomy weather this morning had some of us worried that our day in the park might be rudely interrupted, but with the kiddos in such high spirits, it was hard to stay as gloomy as the rain cloud for long. (That's a simile! But we'll get to that later.)

In 2013, while Romy was studying for her MFA at the University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, poet Heidi Lynn Staples visited the program in an effort to land a teaching position as a professor at the school. (She got the position!) While there, she gave a talk where she described a project in which her writing came from the words she found printed on trash she accumulated during her process. This story has stayed with Romy ever since, and it served as the inspiration for our first writing project of the day. Thank you, Heidi Lynn Staples!

After gathering the kids and heading over to Mount Prospect Park, we had the kids scurry around the park grounds to search for trash that featured words they could use to fuel their own writing process. We established some important ground rules, like what kind of trash to avoid picking up and, most importantly, setting park parameters that allowed us to always keep our eye on them while they roamed freely around our "island" of grass. 

 

Before we knew it, the kiddos were back with ziplock bags full of found treasure (you know what they say about another person's trash). We then had the kids sit in a circle with their bags in front of them and their notebooks open, as Rod explained the form we were going to work with for the first half of the day: "I Seem To Be / But I Really Am". The idea came from Kenneth Koch's incredible book, "Wishes, Lies and Dreams," and it asks the kids to think about what something is perceived as being versus what it actually is. This kind of juxtaposition exists everywhere in the world at large: it colors our understanding of places, of people, and even of ourselves, and we felt it was an important lens to ask the kiddos to bravely look through. What do others seem to be to them? What might they actually be like? Is that same contradiction true for them too?

For a kernel of inspiration, we had the kids dip into their bags of found trash in search of words or phrases that might unlock something. We told them that they could write about themselves and use words found on the trash in their poems, or they could maybe even write from the perspective of the trash itself. The point of view was theirs to choose, as long as it fit within the framework of "I Seem To Be / But I Really Am." The results floored us, to put it mildly. We knew that the kids would come up with some amazing words, but the final poems were truly incredible. Romy and I decided that this was the perfect opportunity to start getting the kids ready for our reading on July 21 at Unnameable Books by having them stand up in front of the group to introduce themselves one-by-one before reading their poems aloud.  

To get them started, Romy got up in front of everyone and read three different poems aloud. Everyone else was told to rate her oratory skills by using a simple system: if we loved how she read aloud, we put two arms in the sky. If we liked it, we put one arm up. If we thought it was so-so, we put one arm straight out and gave our hands a slight tilt. And if we didn't like it, we put both hands on the ground and shook them in the grass. It all lead to a great discussion on both how to be a great presenter and a great listener, both of which take time! Together, we gave some constructive criticism on how better to recite their own wonderful wording: enunciating, breaths, and projection, projection, projection!

After that, the kiddos were up! We gave the kiddos an option to either read it themselves or, if they were nervous, to have a friend read for them, as long as they stood up there too and introduced themselves to the audience. Read their work below and see if you can spot which words they pulled from the tantalizingly text-filled trash (hint: there were more than a few bottle caps littering the grounds). 

by Amelia

 

by Annabel

 

by Lyla

 

by Nate

 

 

by Sylvia

by Ubalo

 

 

by Wynnie

After reading aloud, it was time for a well-deserved snack break, during which the sky suddenly started clearing up, revealing spots of blue through the tree branches. Our original plan had been to wrap up our snacks and head on over to the Brooklyn Museum to look at an exhibit that Romy and Rod were excited to share with the kids. But as the day got warmer, it occurred to us that our time in the park felt really special, and we weren't quite ready to say goodbye to our little "island" in the sun. According to the American National Association of Pediatrics, children should be out in nature playing freely for 90 minutes a day at minimum. This does not happen in New York City, or at least does not happen nearly enough—but it is a requirement in order for children to properly thrive during their formative years. 

 

At Elm Tree, we prioritize the importance of nature, both in our curriculum and in our choices, and today was a day where our ability to make choices felt absolutely empowering. We always aim to share that kind of autonomy with the kiddos themselves, emphasizing their agency in the creative learning process. So we took this opportunity to bring them together and explain the decision: did we want to save the museum visit for tomorrow and enjoy our day of writing outside, or did we want to hightail it over to the exhibit today? This lead to a discussion about the importance of voting, and why it is crucial to use our voices in an effort to shape our experiences. We held a vote and as a collective decided to change our schedule and stay in the park, which was meant with rapturous cheers. 

Soon after, we took the kids to the bathroom to change into their swimsuits and gave them some time to run around the playground, which we giddily documented. Take a look below at our poets running amuck through the sprinklers and around the grounds.

 

 

 

After we dried off, we gathered back around for our second writing exercise of the day, which focused entirely on similes. To begin, we had the kids sit upright, close their eyes and take some deep breaths as we read them a series of comparison poems, written by primary school students around New York and collected by Kenneth Koch. We then had the kids use their eyes and ears to absorb the various details of the park, with the intention of using simile to better describe what it was they were witnessing: the rock as heavy as a sumo wrestler, the grass as soft as a silk robe.

Once they had finished writing, Rod and Romy were pleased to find that, this time, it was some of the kids who were eager to read aloud, with no real prompting required. It was an incredible sight, watching kiddos, who, just hours earlier were learning how to better read their own brilliant work, this time decide for themselves that they are their own best orators. It was a transformation worthy of its own simile: the poets blossomed like newly hatched butterflies.

 

by Amelia

 

by Sylvia

 

 

by Annabel

 

by Lyla 

 

by Nate

 

by Ubalo

by Wynnie

This served as an amazing bookend to a day spent honing our voices just as much as our writing skills. With that, we bid adieu to the park, making sure to take anything and everything we brought in back out with us. Our day had been a delight, but we were sad to say goodbye to one of our young fearless writers Nate, who could only join us for two days, but managed in a short time to create a lasting impact on our little pod of poets. We'll be thinking of you, Nate! 

We hope you climb like the power of 

your simile landing on a poem, ready

and patient to set off toward all that

meets the place where earth and

space collide!

We'll miss you, Nate! Elm Tree wishes you luck at nationals!!

With love,
Rod & Romy