Dear Elm Tree fams,
Today we
had a new friend join us for our second session: Maddie! All of the our poets
were just as thrilled to have her join us as we were. The day began with the
kiddos playing independently in the forested area behind our drop-off location.
To our surprise, the kiddos built a bug hotel!
We then
paired the kiddos up with their travel and poetry buddy for the day & were off to
Mount Prospect Park:
Ajay & Oona
Maddie & Enid
Audrey & Annabel
Lyla & Gayatri
Maren & Jacie
As soon as
we settled on a spot, we asked the kids to drop their bags and line up to play RED ROVER! We formed two teams and had the kiddos come up with team
names: Courtana vs. Canadian Bunny. Just in case you have forgotten this
electric game, the teams each link hands and call out "Red rover, red
rover send (Romy) right over!", at which point the person called has to
run full-force and try to break the chain of arms on the opposing side. If they
break through, they go back to their team; if they can't, they must join the
opposing team. The kids were so taken by the game, and so good at it, that
there was no natural end point, so we played countless rounds—they didn't want
to stop! We will definitely play this game again throughout the week.
We took a break to get down on some snacks, and Romy made good on a promise to tell the kiddos a story about her childhood turtle, Sleepy-Grumpy. Ask your kids to recount the story! After snack time, we had the kids gather around the tapestry with their notebooks in hand, and read them Pulitzer Prize winner Gwendolyn Brooks' "Bronzeville: Boys and Girls", a collection of poems that celebrate "the joy, beauty, imagination, and freedom of childhood." The poems serve as profiles of the adults and children in the neighborhood of Bronzeville, and we used this as a vehicle to discuss our day's theme: a fusion of journalism and poetry called "verse journalism."
Brooks
was one of the early pioneers of the form, articulating the role of the poet as
"a fly on the wall...poet as all-seeing eye." She has the distinction
of being the first black author to win the Pulitzer Prize, and has been praised
by the likes of Langston Hughes, who said, “the people and poems in Gwendolyn
Brooks’ book are alive, reaching, and very much of today.” As a result, we
wanted to frame our study of verse journalism within her work, as she both
chronicles and celebrates the lived realities of her neighbors, working with
journalistic clarity to craft lyrical stories.
We read two poems—"Mexie and Bridie" and "Andre"—each twice, and closely examined the ways they worked as both poetry and journalism: the retelling and reporting of a story. We emphasized the importance of a single word in a poem and had the kids close their eyes to select words that popped out at them. We talked about the stories within the lines of the poems in an effort to lead them towards creating their own poetic profiles. This lead to a discussion about the pillars of journalism, and what makes for good reporting, which we framed as a type of factual storytelling. Brooks was writing poems about her neighbors in Bronzeville, and we asked the kids to think about that act as sprouting from the intention behind reporting: to tell the stories of other people, especially those who can't tell their own. We asked: "who might not be able to tell their own stories, and why?"
The
kiddos were quick to answer. Oona said that reporters might be telling the
stories of people who have passed away. Annabel shouted that reports might have
to report on behalf of people whose voices are marginalized, like black people
and women. And it was Audrey who said that "the government might be
stopping people from telling their stories," a comment which really froze
Romy and Rod in place. Elm Tree kids are always managing to find new ways to
impress us, but it was really humbling to have Audrey be able to cut through an
extraneous amount of context-building by quickly establishing a historical
truth.
We read two poems—"Mexie and Bridie" and "Andre"—each twice, and closely examined the ways they worked as both poetry and journalism: the retelling and reporting of a story. We emphasized the importance of a single word in a poem and had the kids close their eyes to select words that popped out at them. We talked about the stories within the lines of the poems in an effort to lead them towards creating their own poetic profiles. This lead to a discussion about the pillars of journalism, and what makes for good reporting, which we framed as a type of factual storytelling. Brooks was writing poems about her neighbors in Bronzeville, and we asked the kids to think about that act as sprouting from the intention behind reporting: to tell the stories of other people, especially those who can't tell their own. We asked: "who might not be able to tell their own stories, and why?"
This lead to our day's writing exercise, which we approached in parts: we had the kids pair up with their poetry buddies and sit face-to-face as we prompted them with a series of questions that they were to treat as a formal interview. The questions were:
1. What was a time that you laughed the
hardest?
2. What was a time that you were the most
scared?
3. If you could organize a protest, what
would you choose to protest?
We
taught the kids to listen carefully, to ask the right follow-up questions, and
to take notes on keywords and details. We also told them to examine their
subjects, to study their gestures and facial expressions, and to jot down
descriptive notes about what they were seeing as their partner answered the
questions.
Once
they had completed the interview portion of our verse journalism process, we
broke for lunch and had the kids get some much needed time to run around and
play.
After
lunch, they sat back down in their pairs and dove into the second portion of
our project, which was establishing a form that fused the structure of an
article with the form of a poem. Romy had them begin their poem with a line or
two that described the details of their subject: the curve of an eyebrow, the
curl of a lip, the placement of a hand as they’re speaking. Rod then had the
kids turn two of the three interview answers into a quote that they could use
as lines in their poem. Rod and Romy explained both what a quote and quotation
mark was, as the children were not familiar with these terms. Romy then
explained the final part of the project: ending with a rhetorical question that
either built on the theme of the poem, or took off in another direction, as
many poems do.
We
had originally planned to have the kids draw an accompanying art piece, but
Audrey asked whether we were going to paint portraits of their partners. This
was a welcome idea, and a great example of what Elm Tree is about: giving kids
the agency to influence a lesson and inform their own learning process. In this
case, that resulted in a more intimate piece of art than what we had originally
planned.
This
poetry project was extremely challenging, but the kiddos took it on with gusto.
We tailored this experience based on our combined love of (accurate!)
journalism and lyric. Note that you will find the work to be very political,
but not much by our own prompting. Aside from the protest question, which we
hadn’t even prompted yet, your children lead the discussion towards our current
political climate rather naturally. As a result, while we agree with quite
literally everything they wrote about
45, it was the result of strictly their own thoughts.
We
ended the day by giving the kids some time to run amuck in the sprinklers and
atop the jungle gyms of Mount Prospect Park, watching as the sun shined on our
bright writers.
This
blog is real news!
Romy
& Rod
You're doing such wonderful work! I love the way you make writing fun!
ReplyDeleteWhen's the adult camp? lol :) Ben
ReplyDeleteIf you're partially serious, Ben, Rod and I will plan an adult Elm Tree and find you all baysitting shares, so you can spend the weekend writing poetry. I'm not kidding...what a good idea?! You're Ajay's dad, I bet you can write, and so can all the other Elm Tree parents. Let us know and we'll make it happen.
Delete