Who We Are

Today, I am a proud teacher. I have a class of seventeen fourteen and fifteen year old students in my writing workshop, and I gave them a free-write yesterday with the prompt "Who I am." They had just five minutes to write (ceaselessly) and respond. I told them to go beyond the classic labels and roles, to go deeper inside for the answer. I asked each student to circle which line they liked the most, and let them we were going to make a collaborative class poem out of whatever writing they did during those five minutes. I was surprised at the results.

Once it s

tarted and I looked at each response multiple times, a pattern emerged. Most teenagers love rhyme-y poems, and so focused on a way to combine their ideas into a poem that rhymed quite n

icely. This was not planned. Though I did the final combining, the lines are the students (and

a few are mine, as I always do the writing with them). Looking at the resulting poem, you wouldn't think these are only fourteen and fifteen year-olds responding.

I am grateful for the chance to work with these students, grateful to feel the buzz and enthusiasm for teaching ignite in me once again, no longer dormant. Today I had the students write a gratitude list for their free-write, and one of my students told me he was grateful for being a sentient being, and I about gushed with pure joy. He explained to the class what sentient meant. I was overjoyed.

The poem I'm posting has little to do with today's discussion (though it is rather Elbow-y in nature and a more creative piece I was using as a jumping off point for further inquiry), I wanted to share the poem with you, because I love their words.

Yeah, I'm biased. I admit it. And I lean towards Elbow. That sounds funny. Only a select few would understand the sentence "I lean towards Elbow." Now I know Joyce just told me (and I agree) that I was a little naive in believing my students actually wanted to be here and reminded me that "maybe they don't want to be reached" after listening to my rant about how I felt like I couldn't reach some of my students during class, but I know myself well enough to know my faults and strengths, and yes, I am an idealist more so than a realist. Certainly who we are as writers and human beings, really, must, arguably, influence our students and our writing curriculum. How can it not? I see often how my strengths become theirs, or how their strengths emerge despite a curriculum which leans heavily towards my own areas of interest or strengths as a teacher. I keep it in check, but personal preferences do play a part in my curriculum development. In a way, how can they not? Regardless of the answer, what Elbow wrote resonated with me and my own admittedly biased goals for my students when he said,

"But I would insist that it's a reasonable goal for my students to end up saying, "I feel like I am a writer: I get deep satisfaction from discovering meanings by writing--figuring out what I think and feel through putting down words; I naturally turn to writing when I am perplexed--even when I am just sad or happy; I love to explore and communicate with others through writing; writing is an important part of my life. Similarly, I would insist that it's a reasonable goal for my students to end up saying, "I feel like I am an academic; reading knowledgeable books, wrestling my way through important issues with fellows, figuring out hard questions--these activities give me deep satisfaction and they are central to my sense of who I am." In short, I want my first year students to feel themselves as writers and feel themselves as academics."

A lofty goal, indeed. I don't think we'll get there in three weeks, but may inch a few steps closer and when fall rolls around, they'll be a little better off for having participated in the program as they stand poised at yet another beginning.

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As an aside, what I love about this poem is that each student's paragraph (or so) free-write isn't particularly spectacular in and of itself, but when taken outside of itself and put together into a collective piece, their words flow together and rhyme, their voices mix and mingle and shout (or whisper) the truths of who they are, and who we all are, together and individually. It works really well and the synchronicity of the pieces become joyful discoveries. In the future, time permitting, I may ask my students to create their own collaborative poems (in groups) based on what everyone wrote, pulling out the lines that speak the most to them, but we ran out of time, so skipped that step. Here is the version of the poem, which started as prose, created together:

Who We Are: a collaborative class poem

I am waiting to blossom
I'm just funny and awesome.
I'm caring and appealing
I wanna do something amazing.
Thinking before I speak, I am subdued.
Who am I?
I don't have a clue.
But I love who I am.

I am seeing more and more of myself every day
I’m a friend to all who come my way.
I'm under construction, I guess you could say.
My thoughts are me, but I am not inspired.
No one defines me, but I am tired.

I know I can do better.
I was born in India, a lover not a fighter.
I’m serene; impatient, yet calm.
I am a mystery I will solve.
I ask myself "Who are you?"
I’m making my way through.
Still trying to find my true self
I am only as great as I make myself.

I’ll find myself sooner or later.
My mother's only child, my father's only daughter.
I am a Bolivian, proud of my country and traditions.
I have a relationship with God.
He is my religion.
I am fighting for my country's human rights.
Life is mine. I cannot be defined.

I am a Tibetan.
Not some typical person
you can find and define.
I am a girl with my own mind.
I have a dream
But I'm way more than that—
beyond definition, beyond recognition.

I'm shy, but I’m friendly.
Just a boy filled with curiosity.
I chase my dreams 'til I achieve.
#1 is God and what I believe.
When I get mad it's like, not often
Being in love makes my heart soften.

I’d rather give than receive,
cliché’ though it sounds
I’m most myself when no one’s around
My thoughts appear and reappear,
but hardly ever disappear.
I'm the type who enjoys being in silence.
The words slowly sneak in; but that's just not me.
Who am I? Hmmm..where to begin?

A jolly good fellow
I'm laid-back and mellow.
I've learned that life is in the living.
I love the feeling of giving.
Always the nicest kid in school.
I am a girl with my own mind.
Who am I? Look inside.
You might be surprised at what you’ll find.

I am Latino. Ecuadorian and Mexican
But I’m way more than that.
I'm the only girl, you can’t catch me
There is more than you can see.
A nice combination, if you look at me.
I’m a pretty laid back guy.
There is more than meets the eye.

I am a human being,
a creature that walks the great earth.
My mom was surprised at my birth.
I am a lady, a loving person.
I am a freedom writer, and a freedom fighter.
I follow no one else's dream but my own
I think things over to the bone
I like independence, the feeling of alone.

Notorious for my enthusiasm
I am someone I would be proud of
Being who I am is what I do best.
I’m a teenager; don’t compare me to the rest
I am just like everyone else,
doing the best with the sense I have.

I am starting to run.
Beyond this body and form,
beyond my mind and what's been done
Nothing can stop me. I am more
than the sum of my parts.
I have a peaceful heart.
I am sure that I am love.
Thankful each day for God above.

I am the one, the only.
I am not phony. I am you
and you are me. We are one.
I love you forever and ever.
It's gonna end...Never!

[The End]

…or just the beginning!

Today, Like Every Other Day

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

-Rumi