New School Year, New Mindset

The school year begins the second week of August this year. The last time I  started a school year in person with 4- and 5-year-olds was August of 2019.  The world was a much different place.

Events have changed the way we think about race in both the children’s publishing world and the education world. The conversations are difficult and strained.  It’s hard to hold a mirror up and see your collective misgivings.  Especially, when you don’t want to.

I am returning to the classroom this year with a commitment to examine my own internal biases so that I may make more balanced choices regarding the picture books I read to my young students.

I know many of you are familiar with this statement by Dr. Rudine Sims Bishop, Professor Emerita of Education at Ohio State University

“Books are sometimes windows, offering views of worlds that may be real or imagined, familiar or strange. These windows are also sliding glass doors, and readers have only to walk through in imagination to become part of whatever world has been created and recreated by the author. When lighting conditions are just right, however, a window can also be a mirror. Literature transforms human experience and reflects it back to us, and in that reflection we can see our own lives and experiences as part of the larger human experience. Reading, then, becomes a means of self-affirmation, and readers often seek their mirrors in books. (1990, p. ix)”

Centering diversity and decentering white culture is extremely important for children of color. The kidlit community as well as many in education are beginning to acknowledge this.  But what about children who identify as white? Is it important to be mindful of the books we read to these children?  Do they need exposure to books with non-white protagonists? Books written and/or illustrated by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) creators?

As an author, I just sent my editor my author’s note for my upcoming picture book, Egyptian Lullaby, about daily life in Cairo.  As I was writing the author’s note I realized that, although I hope that Arab children see themselves in the Egyptian American protagonist, my deepest hope is to normalize the Arab culture for the dominant/white culture to break through destructive stereotypes.

I have taught all over Los Angeles over the past 30+ years, in predominantly black communities and Latinx and Mexican American communities.  Currently, I teach on the west side of the city where many of my students are white. 

I can see that it is equally important for my white students to see themselves in a different way.  To understand that they live in a diverse world... To see themselves as a part of a whole... To see that they are not more valuable than BIPOC  children... 

If I don’t address this… If I don’t normalize diversity… If I don’t de-center the stories white children experience that reinforce their privileged position in the world…If I don’t bring the stories into balance, nothing will change. And as an educator, I feel responsible for helping bring about change, otherwise I am part of the problem.

How can I expect people who identify with the white culture to see themselves as anything but entitled and at the top of the hierarchy if I keep reading books to young white children that reinforce that they are?  How can I expect the paradigm to shift if I don’t shift it as a kindergarten teacher and a kidlit author?

I can help change perceptions with the simple act of paying attention to the picture books I use in my classroom.  I can create a balanced view of the world and better serve both  BIPOC and  white students by examining my own internal biases and widening the lens in which I portray the world to them.

I imagine picking up a camera with a telephoto lens.  That lens draws the eye to one small part of the picture and exaggerates its value. A wide-angle lens extends beyond the telephoto’s margins, bringing the marginalized out of the margins and including them in the whole picture in its totality.  No one should feel marginalized.  It’s up to me to change the lens both as an educator and a children’s book author.

As a kindergarten teacher, I am constantly evaluating my reading choices.  I have discovered that I don’t include enough books with BIPOC protagonists.  I have an awful lot of books that feature animals in stories that are told through a white lens.  Many of my stories with BIPOC protagonists are stories of struggle, resistance, and resilience.  I think it’s the activist in me that draws me to these stories.  It’s totally out of balance and helps create a single narrative which is ultimately destructive.

So, my own discoveries about myself and my internal biases have lead to changes I will implement this August…

If you’re reading this post via email and you’re unable to see the video, you can watch it on our TeachingAuthors’ website HERE or you can watch it on YouTube here. (If you're on a mobile device, you'll need to use the YouTube link.)

Here is a list of some of the books I recommend to center diversity in your reading list:

1. The Day You Begin written by Jacqueline Woodson illustrated by Rafael Lopez 

2. Dreamers written and illustrated by Yuyi Morales 

3. Sonadores written and illustrated by Yuyi Morales 

4. Carmela Full of Wishes written by matt De La Pena illustrated by Christian Robinson 

5. The Arabic Quilt: An Immigrant Story written by Aya Khalil illustrated by Anait Semirdzhyan 

6. Eyes That Kiss In The Corners written by Joanna Ho Illustrated by Dung Ho 

7. Fry Bread: A Native American Family Story written by Kevin Noble Maillard illustrated by Juana Martinez-Neal 

8. The Proudest Blue: A Story of Hijab and Family written by Ibtihaj Muhammad illustrated by Hatem Aly 

9. Mi Papi Has a Motorcycle written by Isabel Quintero illustrated by Zeke Pena 

10. Water Protectors written by Carole Lindstrom illustrated by Michaela Goade 

11. (Chapter book series) Farah Rocks New Beginnings written by Susan Muaddi Darraj Illustrated by Ruaida Mannaa 

12. Cora Cooks Pancit written by Dorina K. Lazo Gilmore illustrated by Kristi Valiant 

13. Antiracist Baby by Ibram X Kendi illustrated by Ashley Lukashevsky 

14. (Early Reader series) Ty's Travels written by Kelly Starling Lyons illustrated by Nina Mata  

15. Alex’s Good Fortune by Benson Shum 

16. Alma by Juana Martinez-Neal 

17. I Dream of PoPo by Livia Blackburne illustrated by Julia Kuo 

18. Watercress by Andrea Wang illustrated by Jason Chin 

19. Amy Wu & the perfect bao by Kat Zhang illustrated by Charlene Chua 

20. Be A Friend by Salina Yoon 

21. A is for Activist by Innosanto Nagara 

22. A Ride to Remember by Sharon Langley and Amy Nathan, illustrated by Floyd Cooper 

23. The Undefeated by Kwame Alexander, illustrated by Kadir Nelson 

24. Unspeakable by Carole Boston Weatherford, illustrated by Floyd Cooper 

25. Red Shoes by Karen English illustrated by Ebony Glenn 

26. Double Bass Blues by Andrea J Loney illustrated by Rudy Gutierrez 

27. Take a Picture of Me, James Van Der Zee! by Andrea J Loney illustrated by Keith Mallett 

28. Little Seeds of Promise by Sana Rafi illustrated by Renia Metallinou

29. Finding Om by Rashmi Bismark illustrated by Morgan Huff

30. Dalia's Wondrous Hair by Laura Lacamara

31. Feliz New Year, Ava Gabriela by Alexandra Alessandri illustrated by Addy Rivera Sonda

32. Egyptian Lullaby, by Zeena M. Pliska, illustrated by Hatem Aly; published by Roaring Brook Press (Coming June 2022)

WEBSITES, BLOGS & PODCASTS 

1. www.thebrownbookshelf.com 

2. https://www.aclib.us/kids/blog/childrens-books-arab-american-heritage-month 

3. https://citygirlblogs.com/centering-whiteness/ 

4. https://www.ibramxkendi.com/ 

5. https://www.leeandlow.com/educators/grade-level-resources 

6. http://ourstory.diversebooks.org/ 

7. https://www.youtube.com/c/AsianAuthorAlliance 

8. https://www.readingrockets.org/blogs/book-life/ride-remember 

9. https://www.naeyc.org/resources/pubs/yc/nov2019/understanding-anti-bias

(Lists compiled by Zeena M. Pliska, Andrea J. Loney, Benson Shum, and Sharon Langley

Why I Wrote First Grade Stinks

    I don't remember a lot about kindergarten. I was in the "morning class" when three hours was all that educators thought five-year-olds could handle.

My teacher, Mrs. Palmer, looked exactly like "Dear Abby" in the newspaper. I was fire drill captain, or as I proudly told my parents, "If the school burns down, I'm the first one out." I tackled Jimmy R., my kindergarten crush, in the classroom playhouse and kissed him. (It was a decade or two before that happened again.)

     I nearly flunked kindergarten. In addition to such skills as using scissors "responsibly," counting to ten, and reciting the alphabet without singing it, you had to be able to tie your shoes. I tried and tried all year until it occurred to a neighbor that Mom being left-handed and me being right handed made a difference. She had a left handed son who couldn't tie his shoes either.  Moms swapped kids, and both of us skinned out of kindergarten with a day to spare.  Talk about academic pressure.

    Because kindergarten was so unmemorable for me, I looked forward to going through it with my own daughter, Lily. Boy had things changed! Kids wore Velcro strapped sneakers. They were supposed to count to 20 and know the alphabet BEFORE kindergarten. Lily had been in a Bangkok pre-school that was about learning through exploring rather than memorizing. Lily's kindergarten teacher was a Sweet Young Thing whose worst admonition was "someone is not being considerate." Her classroom was a mass of pinatas and Chinese dragon kites and African violets. Lily was proud to be named "Class Gardener" and "Permanent Paper Passer Outer." Sweet Young Thing figured out that Lily was ADHD and at her best when she was "helping"  It must have been a long day for both of them because by then, kindergarten was a full school day. However, Lily and her teacher had a mutual admiration society, even if Lily couldn't quite manage numbers and letters...at least not in their correct order.

    In promoting Lily to first grade, Sweet Young Thing took into account that Lily had spent two years of pre-school and half of kindergarten in a "foreign" environment. She was promoted to the ominously named "transitional" first grade, kids who weren't "reading ready." I didn't give it a lot of thought.  Neither did Lily. She knew she would sail through school, watering violets and passing out papers. What could go wrong?

   I picked Lily up that first day of first grade. She didn't say anything, but I figured she was pooped out, getting used to a new teacher and classmates.

   At home, I unlocked the front door and went in the house, knowing Lily was straggling behind me. Slam! went the front door. We don't slam doors in our house. Ever. I turned to see Lily fling her red backpack across the room, narrowly missing me.  She slumped against the door, crossed her arms, pushed out her lower lip and announced in a voice that I'm sure the neighbors heard. "That's it! I'm never going back! I hate my teacher and there's only one other girl in my class and there's only one recess and the kindergarten kids got lunch first and ate all the chocolate ice cream. I hate vanilla! First grade stinks!"

   Suddenly, I flashbacked to my first day of first grade, telling my mother that if school was going to be this boring, I wasn't going to college. I remembered my teacher, a troll (henceforth known as Mrs. Troll)who was about to retire after forty-something years of first graders. A woman who yelled a lot, slammed her fist on your desk if she thought you weren't paying attention, and when all else failed, used what I later learned was guilt as a motivator.

"You are thankless, spoiled children," she'd shrill.  "I work and work to teach you to(fill in the blank) but you just won't learn! What is wrong with you?" She didn't know? We were terrified of her. She yelled if we got the wrong answer, yelled if we asked a question.

     I made her mad the first day of school when she said "Now when you can read this big book" (a giant sized version of a pre-primer prominently displayed next to the teacher's desk) you can have your very own book. You let me know when you think you're ready."

    I raised my hand. I had taught myself to read from billboards and TV ads before kindergarten. And while I was sure the words "mouthwash" and "rest area next exit, clean restrooms" weren't in that big book, I had filled in my vocabulary with what are now called "Dolch words").

   "I didn't mean, now." Mrs. Troll squinted at her seating chart. "Mary Ann. I meant after you know how to read."

     "But I know how to read now," I insisted. As an adult who has been a teacher, I can sort of understand her exasperation. Five minutes into the school year and she already been challenged by the likes of me.

     "Fine, then," she said in an-I-dare-you-voice. "Come on up and read for us." She stood behind the book, simpering, waiting for me to fail.

     I didn't fail. Dick and Jane were a snore as literature but I read all 32 pages of it without a mistake.  Now Mrs. Troll was really mad, because she didn't have any primers.  She hadn't counted on anyone learning to read in the first month, let alone first day.  She sent me to the office to requisition my first reader, six weeks early. Although I pride myself on remembering the most insignificant details of my childhood, the rest of first grade disappeared in the mists of trauma.

    Now it was happening again with my own child. As the Mom part of my brain registered Lily's outrage, the writer part thought First Grade Stinks.  What a great title for a picture book!  As I explained to Lily that not only would she be going back to school tomorrow and the next day and the next for twelve years (it was a little early to spring college on her) My own first grade disappointments melded with Lily's.  I started listing my possible plot points.

    The year never got any better for Lily. I grew alarmed when Lily announced at the end of the first week that five kids had been "flunked back" to kindergarten.  I immediately showed up for a teacher's conference.  The teacher (aka Mrs. First Grade) was perhaps my age, but looked older. Much, much older. She had surgery three times that school year (the only days Lily arrived home happy) so I tried to cut her some slack. But Mrs. First Grade affirmed that yes indeed she had just demoted five kids back to kindergarten "because I could tell they weren't going to cut it." (After a week?) She left no doubt that Lily would be joining them if she would "stop being lazy." I already knew that Lily was dyslexic so I asked about special ed testing. "Oh we don't do that until the student has flunked first grade and kindergarten."  What? A classroom of eight-year-old first graders?  My sympathy was wearing thin.

   It wore out altogether when Mrs. First Grade informed in February to tell me she was flunking Lily for the year because "she won't do her board work." I snapped. "You do realize she can't read, right?"  Well, no apparently she didn't. Lily had kept her secret by having the teaching assistant read to her when the teacher wasn't looking. Then Lily, having memorized the story in one hearing, would recite it for the teacher, word perfect, right down to the timing of the page turns. I told the teacher to hand her a random book and ask her to read right then and there. Teacher called me back in ten minutes. "She can't read! I guess she's dyslexic!" You think, person with twenty-five years of teaching "transitional" children?  I couldn't finish writing First Grade Stinks fast enough.

    However, fiction and real life rarely turn out the same. In First Grade Stinks, the main character, Haley, realizes that although the two grades and teachers are entirely different, first grade would bring her the ultimate reward of learning to read on her own!  Haley learns to appreciate her new, less flamboyant teacher.

   In real life, Lily hated everything about first grade except for physical education and art.  She never did learn to read that year but was promoted to second grade anyway. We changed school systems. She tested into special education in second grade, where she stayed until she graduated from high school (in the college prep track and with a high B average.) Reading will always be a challenge for her but she has developed a repertoire of coping mechanisms. She is in college now,  Guess what her major is.  Go ahead.  Guess.  Pre-K special ed!

    "After all," she says, "I've had years and years of thinking how I would teach things differently."

     I guess Lily's first grade didn't stink entirely.

Posted by Mary Ann Rodman
                                   

1) Take a deep cleansing breath. 2) Set a goal. 3) Enter our contest!

One-half of knowing what you want
is knowing what you must give up before you get it.
~ playwright Sidney Howard
(he adapted Gone With The Wind for the screen)

Envision what you want your life to look like.
Then ask yourself, “What do I have to become to manifest this vision?”
~ Rev. Michael Beckwith (paraphrased)

Dear Readers,

Huzzah, huzzah--it's nearly fall and a new Teaching Authors CONTEST has begun!

New Year At The Pier—A Rosh Hashanah Story by April Halprin Wayland, illustrated by award-winning Canadian Stéphane Jorisch, is so delicious, we want you to have a chance to win an autographed copy!

Here’s lots of juicy stuff about the book, here's the 1:16 minute book trailer and here’s a summary of the book, which got a starred review in Publishers Weekly:

Izzy’s favorite part of Rosh Hashanah is Tashlich, a joyous ceremony in which people apologize for the mistakes they made in the previous year and thus clean the slate as the new year begins. But there is one mistake on Izzy’s “I’m sorry” list that he’s finding especially hard to say out loud. Humor, touching moments between family and friends, and information about the Jewish New Year are all combined in this lovely picture book for holiday sharing.

So...how can you win your very own autographed copy?

Simple. Since the book is about the new year...do you have a new school year goal? Great! Then post one reading, writing or teaching goal you'd like to accomplish by December 31, 2009 in 25 words or less.

Here are some sample goals to get you thinkin':

Do you want your student(s) to understand the concept of Show, Don’t Tell?

Do you want the courage to delete all of your emails so that the clutter isn't keeping you from writing the next Charlotte's Web?

Do you want to set aside 30 uninterrupted minutes to read for pleasure each day?

Do you want to send out a manuscript by Halloween?

What is that one goal for this bright and shiny new school year?

Be specific. Here’s the place to ‘fess up!

Win-an-autographed-copy-of-New-Year-at-the-Pier CONTEST rules:
1) Read the two quotes at the top.
2) Take a deep breath.
3) Post ONE reading, writing or teaching goal for the new school year in 25 words or less.
4) Your goal must be posted on one of the Teaching Authors blog posts between Friday, August 28, 2009 and Monday, September 7, 2009.
5) You must include your email address in your post so that we can contact the lucky winner.
Here are our general giveaway rules.

The winner will be announced Tuesday, September 8, 2009.

We expect to hear back from you in the first two weeks of January—every one of you. If you don't win this time, you'll have another chance in January when you report on your progress. How did you do? Who or what helped you? Who or what hindered you?

Coming next week: more on New Year at the Pier!

And finally, because it's Poetry Friday...and to REALLY confuse you now that you're thinking about goals...I leave you with a beautiful completely contrary anti-goals poem by my wonderful friend, poet and author
George Ella Lyon:

First homework, then housework, now soulwork.

No list, no checking off, no done.

~ George Ella Lyon

image of girl with a goal by April Halprin Wayland

One Hundred Eighty Days (And Ways)

September, not January, begins my calendar year.
And it always has, since that long-ago September day in West Philadelphia when I first set foot in Miss Patton’s Kindergarten room at the now-100-years-plus Overbrook Elementary School pictured above. I was newly-shoed, my black bangs cut and even, eager to begin what I’d been playing at for years.

Like Joe Fox in my favorite movie You’ve Got Mail, come September I want to buy school supplies! I bestow the following Back-to-School ideas as a bouquet of newly-sharpened #9 pencils. Sniff (and use) to your heart’s (and students’) content.

What better way to start the school year, and each and every one of its 180 days, than with an original poem by a singular original poet, say, for instance, J. Patrick Lewis.
And Lewis’ Countdown to Summer: A Poem for Every Day of the School Year (Little, Brown, ’09) helps you do just that.
Starting with #180, “A Sixth Grader Sees the Future,” Lewis offers listeners a variety of subjects sure to hit home in a variety of poetic styles ripe for modeling: limericks, haikus, riddles, shape and narrative poems and nonsense verse as only he can write.

Lewis’ final poem - #1, “School’s out!” - provides the perfect exclamation point to this fun and funny collection, illustrated in Ethan Long’s cartoon style.

“School is out and I’m so sad
(That is what I told my dad).
I’ll miss Mrs. Rosenbaum
(That is what I told my mom).”

Of course, J. Patrick Lewis, a former teacher himself, is a prolific writer.
In fact, I’m challenged to pick a favorite title.








He’s the perfect subject for an Author Study, which is the perfect vehicle for coming to know a writer – his life, his writing process, his works and inspiration.

To learn the Who, What, When, Where, How and Why of Author/Illustrator Studies, visit Esme Codell’s PlanetEsme.
Next, visit Lewis’ website to learn everything you want to learn about this former Economics-professor-turned-award-winning-author-and-poet. The section “Scenes from my Life” offers glimpses of Lewis’ childhood, growing-up years and family life.
The “For Teachers” section lists interview links to keep you reading for days.
The “For Kids” section provides answers to Frequently Asked Questions.
“Poems and Riddles” shares a reproducible classroom hand-out.
Finally, the “Books” section is an all-year-and-then-some Reading List of Lewis’ titles that span poetic styles, formats (short story, easy-to-read, picture books), genres (biography, myths, legends, tall tales) and subject matter (Math, Science, Music, Art, History, Language Arts, Geography).

Oh, the learning opportunities (at least 180) from but one singular poet! By the time April (and National Poetry Month) come around, pockets will be stuffed with poems and riddles for reciting.

Writing Workout

Lewis’ poems often appear in collections and anthologies, such as Falling Down the Page, a collection of list poems edited by Georgia Heard (Roaring Brook Press, ’09).

What is Earth?

What is earth, whale?
A sea where I sing.
What is earth, robin?
A thing I call Spring.
What is earth, python?
A space to squeeze in.
What is earth, penguin?
A place to freeze in.

List poems make for instant poets.
How might a Kindergartner, a returning student, the New Kid in Town, a graduate, a teacher, a substitute teacher, a Principal, a Cafeteria Lady, a Building Engineer, the office secretary, a parent, a classroom hamster answer, "What is school?"
Why not create a class poem, asking the question of (and naming) each of your students while showing, not telling, the importance of Viewpoint.

Georgia Heard’s “Recipe for Writing an Autumn Poem" also models a "Recipe for Writing a School Poem."
Heard's recipe includes:

One teaspoon wild geese.

One tablespoon red kite.

One cup wind song.

One pint trembling leaves.

One quart darkening sky.

One gallon north wind.

What weights and measures and ingredients might your students choose?

And which senses respond to each ingredient's describing word?
Brainstorm possible ingredients, webbing the school building, its residents, its happenings, the school year’s 180 days.
Brainstorm measurements, webbing not only liquid and dry measurements and measurements of time and space but original measurements and long-ago units.
And brainstorm those describing words. A poet is a wordsmith.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year! As any student will tell you, the new year doesn't begin January 1; it's the first day of school. Today it's heading toward another 95 degree day here in Atlanta, but it's "the new year"; the first day of school.

If you've read First Grade Stinks, which is based on my daughter's struggles to adjust to a new teacher, you might guess that "Happy New Year" is not the way we greet the first day of school at my house. My daughter is now a sophomore in high school, but the first week of school is always Mr. Toad's Wild Ride with new teachers and schedules and lockers. It's a lot to juggle.

Teachers have their own juggling act with new students of wildly varying personalities and abilities. I now realize that the perennial first day writing assignment, the dread "What I Did on My Summer Vacation," was not meant as an instrument of torture while the teacher re-arranged her seating chart.

The "five paragraphs, no erasures, spelling counts" essay was supposed to give the teacher an idea of how well we could write. For me, it was an introduction to the Wonderful World of Writers Block.

As the kids around me scribbled away about trips to the Wisconsin Dells or Riverview Amusement Park, I thumped the eraser end of my pencil on the desk. Here was my summer; checking out library books and reading them in my self-built "clubhouse" while consuming a bag of Brach's Wintergreen Mints. (They didn't melt in the heat.) The end. Every year I got a C for the brevity of my writing...and lots of erasures.

At some point, teachers stopped asking for that vacation essay, and I stopped having writer's block. I had forgotten that fear of the page, the fear of "looking stupid", until I began teaching young writer's classes. My very first student, a fifth grade boy, stalked into the room, threw himself into a chair, and with narrowed eyes, informed me that his teacher had "sentenced" him to my Saturday afternoon workshops so he would "learn" to write. When we began our opening exercise (which I no longer remember), I watched the boy bounce the eraser end of his pencil on the table. Deja vu! Thanks to this particular boy (who I later learned was mildly learning disabled, but turned out to be an articulate writer), I developed this lesson.

Writing Workout: New School Year Writing Lesson

LESSON PLAN (appropriate for fourth through eighth grade)
Objective: To free the student from "fear of writing" and to show them that they can always find something to write about (also known as brainstorming...but don't tell them that)
Goal: Fluidity of thought in writing. Secondary goal, the concept of first and second drafts.

Lesson: Give the students a word or a phrase as a writing prompt. Do NOT use the word "summer"! Use something generic like "fall" or "school" or even "happy New Year." (I would not use the word "teacher" unless I was very, very brave!)

Instructions. Tell the students they are to write for the next ten minutes without thinking or stopping. They must keep their pencils moving. They are to write the first thing that comes in their head that relates to the prompt, and then write whatever thoughts follow. It is not important that they "stay on the subject." Spelling, punctuation, and grammar do not count. Do not write in paragraphs or even complete sentences. If nothing comes to mind, write "blank blank blank" until something does. Remind them that this is only for ten minutes, and they must keep writing.

At the end of ten minutes, they are to stop. They now must revise their work by adding punctuation, arrangement on the page, and corrected spelling. They are not to leave out anything they have written, including the blanks.

The purpose of this assignment is not to assess the student's ability to write in complete, well-punctuated sentences with perfectly spelled words. This is to show them that everyone has something to say, and that if you let yourself go, you can say it on paper. Emphasize that spelling and punctuation is something that you can correct the second time around, but not the first. (I can spend all day fiddling with the placement of a semi-colon, or I can produce ten pages of miserably spelled and punctuated prose that I can clean up in the second draft. I choose the latter!)

The student's final paper will look something like this. This is my stream-of-conscious "poem" using the prompt "fall":

Football football
Rah rah rah
I hate football
Running and running
Get that ball!
Run this way
Run that way
Yea!
We score a goal.
Who cares?
Jump on the guy
with the ball.
Grunt grunt grunt
Clunk clunk clunk
Heads butt
Helmets crunch
Fans go wild
Scream and yell
Stomp'em! Kill'em!
Just like war
Hate like war
Hate the other team
We don't know them
but we hate them
Because they have the ball
and
we
don't.

So I'm not Emily Dickinson. That's not the point. The point is written self-expression.
You have the whole rest of the year to turn your students into Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson (kidding...a little bit).


IN MEMORIAM: Those of you who have read Jimmy's Stars know that the novel was based on stories from my mother's family, particularly those about my Uncle Jimmy. I was saddened to learn that the "real" Jimmy, my Uncle James Smith, passed away in Florida this week at the age of 84. RIP Uncle Jim. Thanks for the memories. (That's Uncle Jim in his Merchant Marine uniform picture above.)