In order to write poetry, the poem has to be defined and the medium in which it is written, language, has to be understood. Kenneth Koch in his book,
Making Your Own Days
, thinks of poetry as a "separate language . . . Poetry lasts because it gives the ambiguous an ever-changing pleasure of being both a statement and a song." (p.21) In that musical statement we find a host of language tools that can be employed to tinker through the process of creating a poem. The Poet's Eye introduces students to several poetic devices and poetic forms. The spine of the curriculum (as indicated by its title) upon which unit sections are structured addresses perspective: How we see the world around us; How we can open our minds to different points of view; How we can distill these visions down to essences or essential qualities. These three main objectives are incorporated into three main sections of the unit:
(chart available in print form)
Whether we are trying to teach calculus or creative writing, the imagination of the student (as well as our own for that matter) needs to be engaged. In order for that to happen, a fair amount of trust has to be established between student and teacher as well as between the student and his or her classmates. Respect lays the foundation upon which trust is built. If students are shutting down in anger or embarrassment, their trust has been thwarted. For some, that trust has been betrayed for a long time.
Most of us have probably experienced disrespect from a teacher or other person in authority, which could have been as blatant as a reprimand or as subtle as a raised eyebrow. In either case, the result is usually intimidation to which we may have reciprocated in kind with argumentative or angry remarks. Even worse, we may have retreated altogether. What we learn from such experiences is usually to keep our mouths shut, and for some, to be combative enough so that we won't have to listen to anyone and no one will bother us. Needless to say, disrespect - among children of all ages - inhibits communication and can put a stranglehold on the creative process.
In any learning experience, students are expected to take risks; the risks inherent in the possibility of failure. However, failure is punished in education and most students, unlike Hester Prynne in Nathaniel Hawthorne's classic,
The Scarlet Letter
, are not so willing to masterfully embroider their failures and walk around with decorative Fs on their shirts. But why not? If they're not making mistakes, are they learning? If they are only able to regurgitate the information assigned by teachers, how useful will it be? Well, I suppose such a student could grow up to be an award-winning contestant on a popular television show such as,
Millionaire
. But is that the the measure of success we strive for in our classrooms?
As a creative writing teacher in the arts program, at an arts magnet high school, I have the luxury of of being a flake. I have tremendous flexibility in designing curriculum and I am not inundated by standardized testing. My class size is generally small, which allows ample time to work with students on an individual basis. Although I'm expected to grade students, given the nature of my discipline, my criteria are fairly subjective. And since editing is a key function of my job, there's little reason for any student not to arrive at the end of a project without an A, and an A that he or she truly earned and can feel a sense of accomplishment from. While there are often many "failures" or mistakes leading up to that A, they are no longer considered degrading, but simply a necessary part of the process.
I actually encourage my students to make mistakes. When students balk at this idea - since for most of their school life they've been punished or put down for it - I remind them about one of their earliest lessons in life: learning how to walk. For most of us, we began attempting our first steps by pulling ourselves upright against a chair or coffee table. A grownup would tower over us and take our hands and guide our legs and feet to make the motions of walking. Our hands would be let go and we would venture forth on our own, but usually not without falling down. This activity would be repeated over time and eventually we would be walking. What I point out to students is that during this process, the grownups helping us didn't get upset if we made a mistake and fell down. They didn't give us Fs; they didn't say, "Oh, you stupid baby, you can't even walk!" We could probably argue or discuss the meaning of life ad infinitum, but one thing we can know is that life is a learning process. And just like learning how to walk, mistakes and failures are part of it. What we do with these mistakes is the important thing. We have a choice: We can let them continue to hurt us or we can embrace them as opportunities to learn.
Like parents teaching their toddlers to walk, a safe environment needs to be put in place in which students feel secure. We don't need pillows on the floor, but students do need some cushioning for their egos. For the arts student - theatre, dance, music, visual arts, creative writing - that means lots of cushioning. After all, what I'm asking of my students is pretty cheeky. I'm asking them to share their hearts-and-souls, and create some prose or poetry that will be meaningful, evocative, provocative, humorous, tragic, etc.; then hand it over to me so that I can tell them what they did wrong and how to fix it. It's not just fill in the blanks or multiple choice. There's a lot more risk taking involved. Therefore, a nurturing environment in which creativity is fostered through respectful consideration between the teacher and students builds trust, which in turn encourages the kind of risk taking necessary to learn a creative process, such as writing poetry.
