Friday, October 24, 2014

Poetry Friday: A Gentle Hello

It's Poetry Friday!!!  I'm honored to be hosting today's link up of beautiful words.  If you're joining us, please leave your link in the comments.  I will be back later in the day to move links up into this post.  In the meantime, be sure to visit the comments to find links to more poetry finds.  



A Gentle Hello

Out of nowhere
you appear.
I wasn't expecting you;
not today.
It has been awhile
since you stood near the door
strong and tall 
greeting me as I entered; 
assuring me you would still be right there
upon my return.
That was long ago.
Days have turned to weeks.
Weeks to years.

Though time has passed
I haven't forgotten you.
Sometimes it's a comment,
a picture,
a smell. 
The song of a bird.
The rush of the wind.
The bloom of a flower.
Taking me back
to the days when you were always there.

Without warning
here you are again.
A gracious gift. 
An unexpected surprise.
A gentle hello.
Making me smile. 
Bringing hope,
that you know 
how much I have missed you.

©  Cathy L. Mere, 2014

Oh, Fall!  
Robyn Hood Black at Life on the Deckle Edge shares October by Robert Frost.

Stop by Teacher Dance where Linda Baie shares her poem, Confusion in the Garden.

"Reply to the Question:  'How Can You Become a Poet?'" by Eve Merriam.  Heidi Mordhorst at My Juicy Little Universe discusses science, autumn and poetry.  This is perfect on so many levels.

Stop by Carol's Corner where Carol Wilcox shares a poem about fall and morning  --- or maybe they're really about something else:  William Stafford's, Yes and Mary Sarton's, Autumn.

Mary Lee Hahn has crafted an original poem at A Year of Reading titled "In the Early Morning Dark, In the Fall."  You'll find words to savor here.

As I look out the sliding glass doors, I can almost see the cold coming.  Maybe the geese, and other migrators, are smarter than those of us who search our closets for warm coats, gloves, and boots.  At Write Time, Linda shares her original tanka:  Fly South; a gentle reminder that it is time to go...or maybe a warning of what is to come.

Jone at Check It Out shares an original zeno about those darkening days of autumn.  Follow the links to discover more about zenos and a challenge.

Carol Vasalona shares her original poem, "Savoring the Season," at Beyond LiteracyLink.  Stop by to enjoy her rythmic words about the season and learn more about her "Finding Fall Gallery" poem submission requests.

Falling for Authors
Margaret Simon, at Reflections from the Teche, shares the poems inspired by the work of Laura Purdie Salas in Bookspeak.  Laura's work inspired a little eclipse poetry by Margaret and her students.  Stop by to discover these poems and follow the links to comment on the work of young poets.

Catherine, at Reading to the Core, shares words of wisdom from Ralph Fletcher and his poem, A Writing Kind of Day.

Ramona, at Pleasures from the Page, shares her diamante poem as she awaits a visit from poet, Janet Wong.

An ode to signed books, and a photo gallery, are waiting at Author Amok.  Laura Shovan uses dedications and the book titles to create her found poem, When You Sign My Book.

Who doesn't fall for advice from a poet?  You won't want to miss your stop at Today's Little Ditty where Michelle Barnes features advice from Carrie Clickard about using rhyme.

Can't fall asleep?  (Yes, I'm having a bit too much fun with the word "fall".)  On her blog, Laura Purdie Salas shares her poetic response to Barney Salzberg's book, Chengdu.

Over at Random Noodling, Diane Mayr, looks at Ernest Hemingway through a new lens and shares two of his poems:  Chapter Headings and Montparnasse.

It is so hard to stay focused as I link blogs to this round-up.  The posts give me so much more to think about that I find myself wanting to click links, locate poems, discover new poetry.  I had to work extra hard when I stopped by Doraine Bennett's site, Dori Reads.  Doraine shares the work of Rainer Maria Rilke with a snippet from Letters to a Young Poet, as well as a poem by Rilke:  I Am Much to Alone in this World, Yet Not Alone.

At a wrung sponge, Adromeda Jazmon Sibley shares a nonfiction text with Chinese poems translated by Evans Chan.  The book, Angel Island, by Russel Freedman is a story of a west coast immigration center.  You'll want to stop Andromeda's blog to read all about this nonfiction text by Freedman.

Falling for Others
Iphigene at Gathering Books shares her original poem, Sapiosexual.

Jama Rattigan at Jama's Alphabet Soup shares a little Colin Firth fest and a poem by Sara Teasdale, The Look.

Do we target writing for a particular audience?  April Halprin Wayland at Teaching Authors ponders this question and shares an original poem, Reluctant.  

Animal enthusiast?  Tabitha Yeatts, at The Opposite of Indifference, shares Nurture by Maxine Kumin and ****NEWS FLASH**** a plan for a poetry swap.  Time is limited as addresses need to be submitted by November 7th.  

You can continue your creature loving poetry walk with a stop at Kurious Kitty's Kurio Kabinet where Diane Mayr shares Creature Carnival by Marilyn Singer and highlights the poem:  "Cerberus".

This month is Dyslexia Awareness Month.  Elizabeth Steinglass reminds us of the importance of taking care of others as she shares an original poem, "Note to the Teacher."

More creatures featured!  What is October without an opportunity to fall in love with monsters?  At Booktalking #kidlit, Anastasia Suen shares M is for Monster:  A Fantastic Creatures Alphabet by J. Patrick Lewis.  She features his poem, "F is for Frankenstein".

How does the head help the heart when we lose those we love?  This question is considered at Bildungsroman in the poem, "Head, Heart" by Lydia Davis.

At There is No Such Thing as a God Forsaken Town, Ruth shares "Death, be not proud" by John Donne.  She reminds us that even in our final fall, or the fall of those close to our heart, death will not win.

Falling for Children (Even Though...)
The things we will do for our children.  We fall for them quickly, but oh do they keep us up at night.  Stop by Karen Edmisten's blog where she shares this stage in a poem by Lisa Gluskin Stonestreet:  "Called".

A bedtime story can sometimes soothe a little one, lulling them back to sleep.  This is true for bats as well.  Mama takes care of little bat in this original poem, "Little Bat,"  shared by Joy at Poetry for Kids.

Speaking of they way we fall for our children.  Yes, the tiny ones wake us up at all hours, but those teenagers keep us on our toes.  We fall for them anyway.  At wee words for wee ones, Bridget Magee shares the words she is sure her teenage daughter hears in this original poem:  Yada Yada Yada.  A fun play with rhyme and rhythm.

...and for all of those years in between, stop by Radio Rhythm and Rhyme for Matt Esenwine's poem, "Which One?".  This made me laugh!

Falling for Places
What's not to love about a stop at The Poetry Farm?  Amy Ludwig VanDerwater discusses her recent attendance at an event called, Love Yer Brain.  She reminds us of the importance of new experiences for inspiration and shares her original poem, "Dear Brain".

Let's hear it for Niagara Falls.  Charles Waters shares his original poem, "The Honeymoon Capital".

The Fall of Humanity
Tara Smith, at A Teaching Life, asserts:
"It doesn’t seem as if we ever get around to making the right choices about being human in these days of endless conflict." 
Isn't it sadly true?  Tara shares her powerful poem, The End and The Beginning, a poem on the sad truths of war and conflict.






Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Lessons Learned: A Tribute to Mr. Conway

It's Tuesday so stop by Two Writing Teachers to join tonight's link-up and conversation.  There's something about moving from blog to blog to savor the little stories that make us smile.  

via Personal Excellence blog
As a teacher, I always wonder what my students will remember about me.  My hope is always that students will see their light reflected in my eyes; that I will in some way help them to see all that they can be.  In my years as a student I was fortunate to have many teachers who touched my life in different ways.  I like to think each one played a part in shaping the person I am today.  Today I stay in contact with many of these teachers who helped paint my childhood in possibility.

Today I came home to the unfortunate news that one of my teachers just passed away.  It was sad to hear that my fourth grade teacher had lost this last battle, but he had triumphed so many times before.  Though he will likely never know it, he taught me much.  When I think back, he is one of the first teachers I knew who truly believed in me.  Even today, many of things I have become are a result of the light I saw in his eyes.

Though I no longer act --- thankfully --- he taught me to push through tough situations.  I learned a lot about myself during our class play, the Wizard of Oz, in which he cast me as Dorothy.  I was humbled to be given such an important part and studied my lines over and over again.  Though I often appeared confident on the outside, I was worried I would mess up the play for my friends.  When I found out I would be expected to sing some of my parts I wanted to run for the hills.  Mr. Conway worked me through a lip sync routine that surely rivaled the later short-lived success of Milli Vanilli's musical career.

Mr. Conway was also the first teacher to make me think I might be able to write poetry.  If you stop by here on a regular basis, you know I dabble in poetry every now and again.  Every time I join the Poetry Friday link up or post a poem here, I think of my fourth grade teacher who first nudged me to try my hand at poetry.  In these attempts, he carefully sowed the seeds of possibility in his enthusiasm for my attempts.  Tonight I went digging for a poem he returned to me several years after I graduated.  He handed it to me many years later knowing that surely I must still be writing poetry.   Apparently even as a fourth grader I had a thing for nature poetry.  I am comforted, however, to know I no longer feel the need for rhyme.


Mr. Conway helped instill of a love a literature and story.  He was the first teacher I remember reading aloud, though I am certain other teachers read aloud before Mr. Conway.  It's hard to forget the way he would spend time each day after lunch reading chapter books to our class, his voice rising and falling with every word.  We enjoyed the antics of Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, the adventures of James and the Giant Peach, and the life of The Mouse and a Motorcycle.  After lunch each day he'd pace around the room reading to us; leaving us hanging at the end of each afternoon so we couldn't wait until the next day.  Our class was a bit of a challenge.  Since it was only Mr. Conway's second year, I'm sure we caused him many a sleepless night, but read aloud was the one time a day where I remember everyone sitting quietly captivated.  Music tames the savage beast, and beautiful words can calm the craziest of fourth graders.

Mr. Conway taught me to make decisions and think for myself.  He believed in personalization before it was cool.  In math, we worked through chapters at our own pace and he consulted with us as we worked.   I enjoyed being able to work at my own rate and having an opportunity to be in charge of my own learning.

Though Mr. Conway has lost this final battle, I am thankful to have walked the path beside him if only for a short time.  He helped me to see far out into the future and paved the way for the many steps that would follow on this journey.  Jackie Robinson said, "A life is not important except for the impact in had on other lives."  His impact was felt by many.  I only hope my students will some day be able to say the same.


Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Book or eReader? What's Your Poison?

It's Tuesday so stop by Two Writing Teachers to join tonight's link-up and conversation.  There's something about moving from blog to blog to savor the little stories that make us smile.  


"Don't sit too close to the television," our parents warned as if our eyes might fall out or rays might soak into us.  Maybe both things happened, but I seemed to make it through a childhood of mild television watching with few, if any, symptoms as a result.  It's interesting to live on the cusp of new technologies.  What did people think as they watched the first car owners drive past their homes?  Imagine the disgust as televisions began to replace radios.  What were they saying when computers first found their way to our desktops?  What about that hard rock-n-roll music that was sure to doom your soul?

With any new technology or discovery there are gifts and concerns.  The eReader is no exception.  I had to laugh this week as my friend, an avid book holder, sent this link to my Facebook account:



I nearly fell over laughing when I saw it.  As much as my friend enjoys reading books, I enjoy reading on my reader.  The study suggests that people who use readers may have difficulty sequencing events in a story (for the record, I may have had trouble with this before eReaders).  Of course, I think there are a lot of questions to be asked about the study.  What was the sample size?  Were readers experienced with eReaders?  Did readers want to read on an eReader?  These are just a few questions for starters.

No matter what science says, I will continue to read from my reader.  I just prefer it.  There's something about being able to visit the library virtually and fill the shelves with titles.  There's something about being able to read a sample before purchasing a book.  There's something about being able to highlight favorite lines and have them collect in a cloud.  There's something about being able to touch a word for a definition.  It even makes me feel better to not be able to physically see how far I am from the end of the book without touching for a line at the bottom of my screen.  There seems to be less pressure to race to the end of the book.  I love the swipe of a page turn, the gentle adjustment of font size at the end of the day, and the look of a bookshelf with covers facing out.  Not to mention the additional space I now have in my living room, closet, and other spaces around the house.  I can carry my library right in my purse.

As I told my friend, I'm sure when they left clay tablets and moved toward scrolls there were people who missed the feel of those heavy tablets.  All I know is I read more now than I ever did.  The great thing about our world is it is full of options.  If you still love a book, you can still get a book.  I love my friends who still love to hold a book, smell its pages, and turn through a story with the pinch of their fingers instead of a swipe.  The good news for both of us is according to scientific studies, reading for just 6 minutes a day reduces stress by 68%.  You can't make this stuff up.  We also appear to be 2.5 times less likely to develop Alzheimer's.  (2.5% is huge, right?)  Whether we can sequence effectively or not, there are still benefits to time spent reading no matter how you choose to do it.  For me, it's the opportunity to chat about books with friends and exchange interesting scientific research from the internet.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Who Would Have Known?

It's Tuesday so stop by Two Writing Teachers to join tonight's link-up and conversation.  There's something about moving from blog to blog to savor the little stories that make us smile.  Thanks to Julie Johnson for helping me get my fingers on the keyboard tonight with her post, Nourishing the Teacher Writer.  

Growing up, I was not a sports fan.  Hardly able to dribble a ball and chew gum at the same time, I just never took to sports.  My physical education teachers were patient with my challenges.  I worked hard. I tried.  I listened.  Somehow it just never seemed to work.  My friends were all big athletes so I spent my time keeping statistics for teams so I could hang out with them.  Living in a small football town you can imagine the complications of growing up uninterested in sports.

The challenges didn't end on the field.  I had to learn to handle sports fans in my everyday world as well.  One of my best friends was a sports fanatic both on and off the court.  It seemed at her house there was always a game of one kind or another on the television with family members cheering for their favorite teams.  My grandma listened to baseball religiously.  I'd laugh at her kitchen coaching, but still I just wasn't a fan.

Last fall my son talked me into joining a family fantasy football league.  I laughed at the idea, but I joined in hopes of learning a bit about the sport along the way.  In order to avoid being the laughing stock of the family, I raced out and purchased a fantasy football magazine (those things are ridiculous in price!) and started searching the internet for draft tips.  I thought I had a strategy, but when selections begin to fly all of that goes out the window.

Despite my best efforts, I ended last football season at the bottom of our league.  I blame Ray Rice.  This year, I'm a bit more fantasy savvy.  Case in point, I didn't make the mistake of drafting Ray Rice again.  Experience is a good teacher.  I've had a fantasy basketball and baseball team.  I've managed dig a few fantasy scoops off of Twitter.  Each season I learn a little more about the sport and the fantasy game.

I'm sure my friends wonder about me as I sit watching games, post sports updates, and cheer over favorite players.  Who knew one day I'd stay up late on Monday night to watch my favorite quarterback?  Who knew I'd be cheering from my sofa seat as he completed a 60 years pass to one of his receivers?  Who knew I'd jump up and down as he scored HIS OWN touchdown?  Yep, Matthew Stafford is going to lead my team to victory this year.  I hope the family is ready.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

A World Awaits

It's Tuesday.  Two Writing Teachers are hosting Slice of Life today.  Stop by and join the conversation by reading, commenting, or sharing your story.  

"Remember the book we used to read:  Goodnight Moon?  I feel like I need to go around the house and say goodbye to everything this morning before I leave," my daughter said as she got ready to move her carload full of "must haves" to college.

How could I forget?  I'm pretty sure I read that book to her five times each day while she toddled around the house all of those years ago.  I smile to myself at the memory that seems long ago and like yesterday all at the same time.  Where has the time gone?  Bringing myself back to reality I scan the house to see if we have forgotten to load anything.  The day is sure to be a long one full of lifting, putting together, and getting settled.

Though I know I will miss her, I'm also excited for her.  I make a conscious effort to let the excitement win the battle for my attention.  After all, I still remember the first day I drove onto Ohio State University's campus.  It was as if I knew there was a world of possibility right in front of me.  For the first time, I felt as if I were in charge of the direction my life would take.  To this day when I drive on the campus, I am reminded of that feeling.

It isn't long until we are on the road with a van packed full of clothing, bedding, organizers, and essentials (I use that word loosely).  She sits in the back with everything packed tightly around her.  There's no time to waste upon arrival as times to stay parked in front of the dorm are limited.  There's much to be moved and put away to get her settled into her new space.  We arrange furniture, find places for everything she's brought, and put the finishing touches on the room by hanging a few pictures in her space.

Soon she seems satisfied with all we have accomplished.  I remind myself of all the opportunities she will discover here.  For the first time, she's fully in charge of the direction her life will take.  I remind myself of this as I say goodbye to her and head home.  Goodbyes like goodnights are only temporary.  Every goodbye is followed by a hello and goodnights are followed by new mornings.









Friday, August 8, 2014

Poetry Friday: Lost

It's Poetry Friday.  Today's event is hosted by Mary Lee Hahn at A Year of Reading.  Stop by today's round up for more poetry.  

In a week I begin a new journey as I move from my first grade classroom to a reading intervention position in our building.  It's the first time I've been without a classroom to arrange, a class list to call my own, or a classroom community to begin to build.  It's a little unsettling.  I'm excited about this new opportunity and am beginning to rethink my community --- it's just larger.  Find my class list --- it's the classes I will be working with in the upcoming year.   I stumbled upon this poem this evening that seemed fitting as I find my way in this new place.  

Lost 
by David Wagoner from Collected Poems 1956-1976 © Indiana University Press.  

Stand still.  The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost.  Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.

The rest can be found here:  The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

Here's to a new journey as I discover my new HERE.  

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Slice of Life: Savor Summer

Today I'm joining a Slice of Life hosted by Two Writing Teachers.  Stop by for links to this amazing community of writers. 

Recently Jill Fisch posted this on her Facebook page:

Jill Fisch's new blog:  I Notice, I Wonder

For me, summer hasn't been slow.  It's been busy.  Though I've been out of school since the beginning of June, it wasn't until July 16th, that my professional work took a bit of a break.  Every week since school ended I've been involved in meetings, professional development sessions, completing work related to school, and catching up on professional reading.  Now, granted, the schedule has been a bit more slowed, but it's still been full of professional work.  Finally on July 16th, I decided I was able to find the time for a two week break (sort of).  

In one of those paused moments in the last few days, Jill's post caught my attention as I read …. "to recapture that relaxed, slow feeling of summer in the middle of the school year."  On her new blog, she is sharing pictures of little moments in life she is able to enjoy in the summer because she takes the time to slow down to notice and wonder.  Just reading her post made me slow down a bit and take a nice deep breath.  It reminded me to slow down a bit in these next few days to take time to notice and wonder.  

As I looked through my photos, I realized that even in the busyness of obligations, I was able to find little moments to slow down and savor summer.  In the coming days I plan to do much more of this, but I hope to remember that it is possible, even when I'm busy with school, to find moments to slow down to savor.  

I've been wanting to play with Animoto so here are few of the moments I've savored in recent summer days.  Thanks, Jill, for the inspiration - and new lens.  



My Video