Morning Sky

I didn't capture it while I was driving to work
in a meditative state. Soothed by the
baby blues and pinks, I drove toward the sky.
The colors were not like the tacky
wall paint and cliche baby accessories.
No, the pink was soft and new,
pale like a newborn baby's cheeks
And the blue, it was faint and creamy
like the sheer skin of an infant.
Subtle and seamless,
they faded into one another.
It was a new sky, just days after
the new moon. The day was born
with the chance to start again.

Dry Humor

I am unusual. Probably in more ways than one. But today, I've been thinking a lot about something that makes me pretty unique in comparison to almost every person I know. I don't drink alcohol. I won't say never, but rarely is probably an understatement. A couple of weeks ago I went to establish with a new general physician. When the nurse did the initial screening information while we waited for the doctor, she asked me how often I drink alcohol. I never know how to answer that question, and she tried to prompt me for a response. "Um, almost never," I said. "I mean, not never. But..."
     "Once a month?" the nurse asked.
     "Mmm... not even. Maybe half a dozen times a year?" I was practically asking back because I might as well have answered never. Like I said, I never know how to answer.
     "Okay, like maybe during holidays?" she tried again. It might seem like she didn't believe me, but I didn't feel that way. It was more like she was trying to quantify something I couldn't put a number on myself.
     "Sure, go with that," I obliged even though that probably wasn't even true. In recent memory, I can think of only two times I drank... in the past maybe six months. I had a sangria when I went out to dinner with my friend one night, and a margarita while out with my husband a couple of months ago. I found the whole thing so strange, trying to determine how often I had a drink. Once the doctor came in and reviewed my responses, she asked with surprise in her voice.
     "Wow, you don't smoke or drink? That's great." I guess I never realized how unusual that was. And I began to think about it some more. I have one good friend from college who also doesn't drink. It's not that either one of us is standing in some holier than thou ivory tower, we just don't drink. The last time I can remember drinking with any consistency, was when I was a freshman in college. To be honest, I didn't even come close to any of my friends' alcohol intake. I was just never into it. And oh yeah, I cannot stand the taste of beer.

I've joked with my sister, the other person I know who doesn't really drink, about how kid-like we feel about the whole thing. We've laughed about how common it is for women our age (in our 40's) to talk about coming home after a long day of work and unwinding with a glass of wine. Nope. Not us. We've said to each other, we wish we liked to drink wine. It sounds so grown-up. And people, especially women, seem to get such enjoyment out of popping the cork at the end of the day. "It's wine-thirty!" you'll here as people head out of the office. And there are a ton of funny memes all over social media about wine.    

     My husband loves beer. I mean really loves beer. When we go out to eat at international restaurants, he orders the beer that matches the cuisine. He loves IPAs and local brewery beer especially. And wouldn't I just love to enjoy a local brew at the food truck night at the local brewery? Sure, I would! But I. don't. like. beer. Sometimes I'll come home from a stressful day or a long week at work and I'll tell my husband I want to go out somewhere and have a drink. He picks out a restaurant for dinner where he knows I like the cocktails, and nine out of ten times, by the time we get there I'm no longer interested.
     I've tried to figure out why I don't drink much. I don't have any alcoholics or bad memories associated with alcohol in my immediate family. My parents both drank as I was growing up, albeit responsibly (at least from my perspective). Not sure who to credit, my parents or school or D.A.R.E. or scared straight videos or maybe ABC After school Specials. But I was afraid of drunk driving and I always volunteered to be the designated driver. My husband thinks it's something like that. He says I  don't like it when I'm not in control of my own actions. That could be it too. Who knows?
     But those areas in the country where they still have dry towns and counties, wouldn't bother me one bit. Many of my friends identify alcohol elimination or reduction as their number one adjustment for trying to drop weight. Not me. Eliminating my 5-6 cocktails a year is not likely to have any impact on my weight. Actually, come to think about it, we went on a Sandals vacation to Jamaica three years ago and I drank so much I gained 4 pounds on the trip. To be fair, all I drank were those sugary frozen drinks. That was probably as much the culprit as the alcohol itself.
     All that said, it does not bother me when other people drink. It's fun to watch people enjoying themselves, sometimes making fools of themselves when they have one more than they should have. Live it up! Have a great time! And feel free to call me for a ride if you need one.
   

Diary of a Colloquium Instructor #9

I'm nice. Maybe too nice?

Once again, a Saturday field trip- this time to ECHO- brought a fun bus ride surrounded by the usual group of students who like to chat with me during the trip. This week's conversation was about slacker students and difficult professors. I had asked the group to remind me to make an announcement on the bus ride home. I was concerned I wouldn't get focused attention because at 8 am, college students resemble the walking dead. Of course my designated reminders wanted to know then what the announcement was, so I obliged. It was about make-up work, which brought up the ensuing conversation.

I'll skip the nitty gritty, as it would bore you. The interesting exchange was when they told me how understanding I was, and they really appreciated that I listen to them rather than dismiss them about why they miss class or deadlines. I told them I understand many of today's students are working jobs and raising families. Though I want them to make their studies top priority, sometimes life gets in the way and things are beyond our control. One of the guys (let's call him Joe) said, "I for one really appreciate your understanding. One of my other professors doesn't care at all."  Joe told me at the start of the semester while he was working some things out with this professor and talking about his job, his professor "recommended" to him that he didn't work this semester. Joe's internal dialogue, which he shared with me was, he recommended his professor pay his tuition.

We had a really good discussion, and I aired out with them that I think I am understanding to a fault, and maybe sometimes I am taken advantage of. This is probably true, but I always ask myself what I am trying to accomplish and when I have become an enabler. Reasonable excuses usually fly with me, but I emphasize reasonable. And I expect my students to communicate with me, not wait for me to chase after them. It's their responsibility to avoid zeros and F's by keeping me informed when something is going on. It's really about flexibility... and heart.

Sometimes I feel like I've been a fool, excusing students for missing class, allowing them to make up assignments. But the truth is, the important thing is that their evaluation matches their learning. Students who blow off the reading or class are not going to get as much out of the class. That means a) they won't optimize learning (waste of their money) and b) they won't perform as well on the major assignments/assessments, yielding them a lower grade. It is their choice.

Maybe it's because I've been a teacher my whole career, where as many college professors have not. Maybe it's because I live in a world where teachers care about their students. Caring teachers hold their students accountable, but also recognize that we are all human, and sometimes we need a little love and understanding. Joe's comment was one of the nicest things a student could say to me. Yes, I want them to learn. But I also want them to know I care. Looks like missions accomplished.

Four Year Legacy

These two. Let me tell you about these two. My son Jacob and his teammate Julia are the big brother and sister of the Dunbar High School swim team. They are the only two four-year swim team members, together since freshman year. Let me start by saying they are not a couple in the sense you might be thinking. In four years, they have never dated, and I don't think either one ever thought about it (at least it would be news to me). But here they are, senior year, celebrating each other and an explosion of growth on their team.

In their freshman year, I'm not sure there was even a dozen kids on the team. Standing around at the district meet today, we were joking around with another parent that the whole team could have fit in one car. Okay, maybe two. But the team was small and they weren't even on the map. They had one strong swimmer in a boy who would graduate at the end of the year. I don't think he went to regionals that year. We were barely able to field a relay team, and Jacob as an up-and-comer with the senior boy, struggled to round out a foursome with two other swimmers. The girls were lucky if they could field a relay team at all, because there were four of them total when they all showed up. We really didn't know better. As parents we were grateful our son wanted to be active. He had taken up club swimming the summer before he started high school.

In their sophomore year, Jacob and Julia found themselves in the veteran spots. Their senior captain from the last year, graduated. There were few other returning swimmers, if any. Fortunately, an experienced swim coach signed on and brought with her tons of support for the team. The kids who were left helped recruit at open house, and the sister of the boy who graduated was coming in as a freshman. The team was starting to grow a bit. We had enough kids to swim, and quite a bit of young developing talent. Julia rallied the kids, and Jacob started to lead the events.

They have gotten stronger and bigger each year, and this year there are several other seniors on the team. However, a couple of them are two year swimmers and one of them is a third year swimmer. These two are the only four year varsity swimmers, and they have built quite a legacy. The Dunbar team is a contender. This year there are several swimmers going to regionals and there are lots of young swimmers left behind to continue building the team. The Dunbar Swim Team is going places, and so are Jacob and Julia.

It's been a great four years and we will continue to support the team. I look forward to hearing about all they accomplish, as Jacob and Julia set out for the next phase of their lives. These two...

Jacob on the left, and Julia on the right cheer on their teammate in a race.

Warming up before a race.

They find out Jacob's relay team made regionals after a 3rd place finish at districts.

What Do I Do With This?

I'm conflicted after class tonight. My students' assignment was to read a measly 5 page excerpt from Rachel Carson's Silent Spring. It was arguably the easiest and definitely the shortest reading of the semester. Without getting into too much detail, I had an in-class activity planned and I wanted the students to process some ideas in writing, to help the thought process for the small-group interaction they would have afterwards. I told them not to think of it as a quiz, but rather a warm-up exercise. Trust me, if they did the reading, it wasn't hard. At the top of the page there was a brief paragraph quoted from the reading, and the instructions that appear in the image below. Take a look at my instructions, and this student's response.

I had them complete an additional piece of reading in class as they finished this activity. While they read the article, I read their papers. About halfway through the stack I came to this one. At first I smiled. This student is a decent student. I wouldn't say a star, but generally responsible and most of the time attentive. My initial reaction was, at least she's honest about it and I continued through the stack. I had a great class, the activity went well, and there was some good debate. Then I left.

As I was walking to my car I started to get a little annoyed thinking about it. Was I supposed to congratulate her for being honest? Is that her way of apologizing for blowing off the reading? I gotta say, the more I thought about it, the more it felt like entitlement. As long as I tell her the truth, it won't be a big deal. It's kind of like the forced apology by the mean kid at recess, who really has not remorse. It was like shooting me a bird to my face, rather than behind my back. Never mind that a good teacher at any level can usually smell the bullshit a mile away. We can read in the responses those who did the reading and those who are good at hiding the fact they hadn't. And of course it doesn't even take a good teacher to recognize those who clearly don't do the reading. Why not try?

This all left me thinking, what the hell am I supposed to do with this? Am I supposed to take pity on her? Am I supposed to be impressed with her honesty? I have to admit, I'm not impressed and I don't feel bad for her. My husband said she should respect me and my class enough to at least try and bullshit a response. I'm not sure I agree with that either.

All I know is this. I work full time and teach at the university. I write for a daily blog as well as a monthly blog. I have a family. And I come prepared to work, both jobs. I would never admit to my boss I was not prepared, because I would never be unprepared. I don't mean to sound callus or judgmental, but I guess I am. Why the heck did she write this to me? What do I do with this?

Nothing But Class

This will be a brief post. No flowery poem or detailed back story (ok, maybe a few details for context), just a statement of gratitude. That will have to be enough after a long day like today...

I work with a great bunch of women. Everyone at our center is great, but I have such an appreciation for the classy women on my academic team. My teachers aren't all twenty and thirty year veterans. They haven't all been team leaders, academic coaches, or Golden Apple winners. But man, they have hearts of gold and strong desire to make a difference in the lives of the young women we serve. We had a PLC today (that's Professional Learning Community, for those who don't know). We were talking about our purpose for looking at data and targeting areas for growth. We are going to be looking for ways to identify and help students who may be struggling more than most. Today we set our purpose and talked about what it will all look like. One of my teachers said, "Can I just make one request?" I nodded a yes in response. She continued, "Can we make a pact right now that this won't become a bitch session about the girls who are giving us a hard time?"

Needless to say we unanimously agreed after a brief conversation. I won't get into the details, as it's not necessary. We finished up our meeting and the whole way home I was thinking about my faculty in admiration. We had a tough day. We've had some tough behaviors to contend with over the past few days. These women, these teachers, sat in a circle and made a pact to stay positive about the very students who frustrate us most. We set our purpose and our non purpose, and I think we're ready.

Makes me feel great about my job and the people I work with.

Image from kids country.com

What If You Slept

I'm a little embarrassed I even had the nerve to try and emulate Samuel Taylor Coleridge, but his poem came up in the Writer's Almanac daily post last Friday and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. It's so simple, but I love it. I wanted to give it a try.

What if you slept...
by Laurie J. Kemp

What if you slept
And what if
In your sleep
You dreamed
And what if
In your dream
You went to heaven
And there you had wings and soared with the birds
And what if
When you awoke
You had feathers in your hands
Ah, what then?

Couldn't It Be You?

The 

Image from picturequotes.com

The first academic quarter came to an end last week. That means grades, report cards, and quarterly progress monitoring tests. It can be a stressful time for students, but I assure you it is equally if not more of a harrowing time for teachers. Last minute make-up work from students, pleas for leniency or late work allowances, teachers can be completely bogged down. And at a time when teachers are largely blamed when students fail to achieve, it's a time some teachers are reminded they, just like their students, aren't making the grade.

I work very hard as an instructional leader not to create that atmosphere at my school. Yes, we look at data. We are required to report it in many formats to several stakeholders, as we are funded by multiple entities who require we do so. This year however, we have been given an interesting tool for consideration. It remains to be seen if it's legit, but the district/Renaissance Place/whomever, has provided us with a predictor chart correlating a student's percentile rank on the STAR Assessment with the achievement band they are likely to score in on the FSA (Florida Standards Assessment) or the EOC (End of Course exam) given at the end of the year. I am cautious not to be sold on these magic 8 ball tools, as we have never had this chart before and I am not sure how they created it. That being said, it is nice to have something to help the kids connect their progress monitoring assessments to how they are preforming towards their overall goal.

I have to stop here for a side bar. The fact I'm even talking about assessment data in this way, especially on my blog, is cringeworthy. I believe in so much more than the numbers, and I know numbers can be manipulated, both positively and negatively. But if you stay with me here, you'll see the qualitative me you know and love is about to surface. Please be patient.

Tomorrow night I have to report my first quarter data to the (SAC) School Advisory Committee. I could explain what that is and who it is made up of, but I won't. Suffice it to say, it's a group of adults, some voluntary some required, who are invested one way or another, in the success of the school. I have been reviewing attendance records and program requirements, the SIP (School Improvement Plan) goals, and of course, student assessment data. Over the past couple of days, each student was required to take both the STAR Reading and the STAR Math Assessments, to monitor their progress toward mastery of the state standards.

As I worked throughout the day on my reports, I also checked in and out of school business, including emails. There was an email from one of my reading teachers. Take a look at "Student C's" STAR results, I'm curious what you think, she said. I was pulling up all the reports, so I scrolled through to the student in question. I wasn't quite sure why the teacher asked me to look. I searched for a discrepancy, and made sure she spent adequate time on the test (the report spits out the amount of time the student spent testing). I just wasn't sure what had red flagged her about it, so I walked over to her classroom during her planning time.

Did you notice how much she improved? She had a perplexed look on her face. She is a second year teacher, a career changer. She's extremely committed to be an excellent teacher, and we are so lucky to have her. I looked at her and gave her back all the reasons she wanted to hear.

Well, I said. And before I could even say it, she finished my sentence.

I know, she could have tanked the baseline assessment. This is not uncommon of students in our program. Many of them are disenchanted with school, and many of them are dealing with emotional stressors and trauma, making academics a bigger chore than it is for most people. It is not unusual for our students to take several weeks or even months to be healthy enough to focus on school, more so than just going through the motions. So the first tests they take aren't always true indicators of their current abilities. Some self-sabotage and don't even try. Others are nervous being at a new school.

That's always possible, I said. It's also possible she wasn't attending or wasn't engaged in school prior to coming. Just attending to academics daily after a lapse, can result in big improvements. She smiled and I smiled back.

Then I gave her an answer perhaps she wasn't expecting. And of course, there's always the chance she's learning. Like maybe you are a great teacher, and you are having an excellent teaching and learning interaction. Maybe it actually has something to do with you. And she modestly shrugged it off and we exchanged a smile as I left the room to return to my office.

When I returned to my desk, I sent myself an email about our interaction. I knew I was going to write about this tonight. The email said, Couldn't it be you? I couldn't get the idea out of my head. Is the system so broken, are teachers so beat down they don't even know how great of a job they're doing? We're pretty quick to let others make us feel shitty for our students' low performance. We try to push it down and away so we don't forget about the student who wasn't attending school at all and now has an 80% attendance rate, or the student who spent most of her time sleeping or putting her head down in class until she came to us. We can't forget about the student who professed she hates reading and now she hangs at your desk when you bring in a new load of books for the classroom library, because she wants first dibs. We won't discount the student who insisted she sucks at math and would shut down before she even tried, and now she keeps a math journal, asks to do problems at the board, and stays after for extra help.

Maybe, teaching is more than just teaching reading strategies or content. Maybe it's not just curriculum standards they need to learn. Maybe, just maybe, there's more to the teaching and learning relationship than the content and skills. I would bet if it was measurable, we would find that a caring teacher, a desire to be in attendance and engaged, and all the other intangibles, are just as much contributors to increased achievement than subject material. Maybe increased self-esteem and confidence, maybe love from a teacher are all part of the equation.

Instead of explaining away her students' successes, I sure wish this teacher was able to acknowledge her hand in it. She is a devoted teacher who is always looking to grow and improve her practice. She loves what she does and her students can see it. She gives 100% of herself to her teaching. She is a teacher of so much more than reading. I wholeheartedly believe she had a hand in the success of this student. I'm going to remind her again tomorrow, it is her. Together, a student and teacher can accomplish great things. These two did.

Blessed Morning

I have been absolutely enamored all weekend with the activity in the preserve behind my home. I just can't stop watching. I have been waiting for the aviary return, and they are finally here. There have been at least four different types of birds wading together through the grasses and cypress trees. It has been delightful to watch them flutter and flap, pecking into the water for fish, and flying about from perch to perch. We even had a couple of new guests we've never seen before. I can't help but be inspired by the spectacular weather and the wonders of nature. I wish I had a real camera, not phone!

The wood stork seems to be the king of it all. He's the biggest of the bunch and the others seem to cower to him. He has tall stick-like legs like all the cartoons and drawings you see when you're a kid.

The egret is the most plentiful of the birds in our area. In fact, a few of them have been tiptoeing through my backyard for the past couple of weeks. When they stretch out their necks, they are long and graceful, a bit like a swan. Often you see them like this, with a beautiful s-curve and yellow beak.

This weekend, I have seen more blue herons in the preserve at one time, than I have ever seen before. I saw two little blue ones and a couple of bigger ones, possibly a great blue heron. The young ones seem less phased by observers, and they let me get pretty close. The big ones I have found, notice I'm approaching before any other bird does. It doesn't matter how slowly or quietly I move, they always turn away and go further back into the trees. I can see their wings flap and their activity back in the preserve, but the view is usually too obstructed for a good photo. These were beautiful.

I love these photos of a pair of ibises, especially the second one. They look as though they are checking out their own reflections, though it's much more likely they are looking for aquatic treats.

It's funny. When I took this photo, I was focusing on the birds. There is the one in the foreground, and several others further back. But after studying this photo, what I like about it most is the cypress tree (left) and its reflection in the water. The plant life is wildlife too; an important part of the preserve.

I love all the birds, but I have to admit the highlight of my day was running into these two visitors. I noticed some of the birds nearby were becoming a bit skittish at the sound of some activity in the wading water. They turned back toward the preserve and I glanced over thinking I'd see some fish, maybe a turtle. But to my surprise, I followed the activity in the water and these two popped their heads up and looked my way. Two otters quickly ducked back under the water and swam away. It was a wonderful sight! I feel so grateful to live where I live, and to have enjoyed this beautiful morning.

Open

Saturday in South Florida
fall is finally here
the weather we've been waiting for
Sunny and 75 as Joe Nichols sang

Azure sky, scarce white cottony clouds
shining, glimmering sun high above
a tickling cool breeze, crisp and fresh
pleasant relief from the long hot summer

I drive along in my open jeep
relaxed, music turned up high
hair blowing wildly and carelessly
my worries are few

Satisfied from a lovely lunch
catching up with a friend
talking about teaching and writing
I am refueled and ready

Rear end melting to the seat
the music seeping into my bones
sunshine toasting my skin
the wind blowing in my face

I have nowhere I want to be
except on the road to anywhere
no desire to stop
just a will to keep going

open jeep
open mind
open heart
open soul

Nowhere Else In the World: Guest Post

I am beyond thrilled and honored to present a guest post on my blog today. My co-founding member of our local writing group, Helen Sadler, has shared a piece of poetry. Helen and I met while I was working on my doctorate. I was conducting focus groups for my study, interviewing members of the National Writing Project. Helen volunteered to be part of my study, and thinking back, I can't imagine if she hadn't. My life has been so enriched by the experiences we now share.

Being a part of NWP is a life changing experience in itself, it is the whole reason I conducted my doctoral research in the first place. Any member can attest to it. But as a researcher, I had to maintain neutrality. I barely participated in the discussions, just prompted and facilitated. You have to be objective when collecting data. The connection however, is there. And I am ever so grateful, Helen and I struck up a sort of writing partnership and beautiful friendship following the completion of my research. We started a writing circle, and three plus years later, here we are. Thank you Helen, for answering my call for study participants, and walking with me on the writing journey.

To everyone else, Helen read my last two blogs (she reads my blog daily and also shares my love of nature) and offered to guest blog because she was inspired by Marjory Stoneman Douglas' words in the found poetry of my students. Enjoy a bit of brilliance from one of my favorite writers- and I am referring to Helen, not Marjory. Though they're both pretty great!

Guest Post by Helen Sadler

I first fell in love with the Everglades and south Florida in 1989, when we made a trip down to Marco Island for a convention, then drove across Tamiami Trail and stayed two nights in Everglades National Park. I was not aware at the time what dire circumstances the amazing River of Grass was in – I just knew that what I was seeing was unlike anything I had ever seen before.

I never dreamed I would be living in South Florida, or that I would receive the benefits of the Everglades skies and sunsets consistently in my life.  I never dreamed I would attend a university that would teach me so much about this environment, unique and magical, like no where else in the world.

I have gone to the source, the great book by Marjory Stoneman Douglas, and I have pulled her words to create a poem told in three vignettes, the middle one taking her words into haiku forms.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Marjory, for your work that began the awareness of the greatness of nature in our midst – one that should never be lost.

No Where Else in the World

A found poem from The Everglades River of Grass by Marjory Stoneman Douglas

I.  The Water

“Pa-hay-okee” say the Seminoles, “Grassy Water.”

An everglades kite questing in solitary circles,

Rising and dipping and rising again.

Egrets and white ibis and glossy ibis and little blue herons,

            Thousands nested and circled and fed.

Saw grass reaches up both sides of the lake

            In great enclosing arms.

The grass and the water together make the river,

            Simple and unique.

Only one force can conquer it completely: fire.

Yet here rain falls more powerfully and logically

            Than anywhere else in the United States.

On summer mornings over the Glades the sky is

            Only faintly hazed.

By noon, the first ranks of clouds, cottony and growing,

            Whip to glistening heights.

By late August and September, afterglows of tremendous

            Summer sunsets, pure rose and violet and ultimate blue.

Lumpy, soft, permeable limestone called “oolitic.”

To understand the Everglades means you must

            Understand rock.

On the east coast, rivers broke through the rock rim

            In a series of low waterfalls and rapids.

Snapper Creek and its ferny, rocky dam and

            Fresh-water springs bubbling clear.

The limestone tips very gently downward to the south

            Until it disappears in the shallow waters of Florida Bay.

The water is timeless, forever new and eternal.

Only yesterday, they say, the Floridian plateau was lifted up,

            Long after the quails and the swifts and the flamingos,

            The warblers and the water snakes, the owls, the woodpeckers

            And the alligators have assumed their present forms.

There came one last heaving and changing

            The east edge of it a little higher,

            The west sloping back gradually to the sea,

            A mere geologic yesterday.

II. The Wildlife

Florida deer

Step neatly at edge of pine

In forests like these.

Brown wildcats know them.

The clear light falls mottled through

Branches faintly green.

Green lizards puff out

Their throats like thin red bubbles

A silent love call.

Resurrection ferns

First rain startles to green life

Pale green slender stalk.

Brilliant coral snake

Spiders stretch exquisite traps

Small brown scorpions

Native orchids, yellow and white

Pale-rose, whorled and etched tree snails

Coconut palms rise above.

III. The Wave

The sea has risen.

It is there now.

The shape of this land is established.

Time moves again for the Everglades,

Not in ages and in centuries,

But as man knows it.

In hours and days,

The small events of his own lifetime,

Who was among the last of the living forms to invade its shores.

But some things cannot be changed.

Like the rock. The mangrove. The cypress tree.

The shadowy light and canopy of green,

The flotsam of sea, the long seed, the tide,

Endless sea currents

and mud

and mystery.

           

Student Poetry Showcase

This post honors the work of my college students who graciously participated in a class activity during which they created found poetry out of their favorite phrases and words from The Everglades: River of Grass by Marjory Stoneman Douglas. For more details, read yesterday's post. I am not sharing their names because I have written about my experiences in my classroom and wouldn't want to invade anyone's privacy by providing a link back to specific names. I did however, ask their permission to share their work. Though none of this writing is my own, I feel as though it is all birthed from my passion and love for nature and writing, and how I chose to share them both in this way with my students. I am very proud of their work- remember it isn't an English or Creative Writing class. I can't share all 24, but here are a few. Enjoy.

Image from trek earth.com

The Evercycle

Half way down that thrusting sea-bound peninsula.
Grass and water together make the river.
Its stringy and grainy dullness glitters with the myriad unrotted silica points, like glass dust.
To try and make ones way among these impenetrable tufts is to be cut off from air.
Clouds fill with their steely haze and leave only outline of the visible world.
Water falls solid, in sheets, in cascades.
The sawgrass and all those acres of green growing things draw up the water within their cells, use it, and breathe it out again

A Typical Tuesday Night

The Everglades begin at Lake Okeechobee

Saw grass reaches up both sides of that lake in great enclosing arms

Its stands drying to old gold, ready to burst into those red flames

Winds slash before them and the rains roar down, making all the saw grass somber

The lion-colored light shuts down as the rain does

Fiery Glade

Wetness that is sweet among salt
tiny hidden blossoms, luminous in the darkness,
give way to mile high pillars of orange light, roily tangerine
spears thrust into the burning brass
rolling clouds of heavy cream against a hyacinth sky
thin screaming hordes bend in the west wind
they bow, they burn
the fierce fire, lord, power and first cause over the Everglades

The Failing Flame

Rains fall from a vicious white and grey sky

The water winks and flashes 

Saw Grass reaches on both sides

The boiling red flames crackle

The grass yields nothing to the blaze

The Spring rains put out the fires

The River of Time
A man standing in the center of it, if he could get there would be lost in the saw grass.
The green things never quite dry out;
They were changeless, they are the changed.
There are no other Everglades in the world.

Here the rain is everything.
Of air-loving life only a little way out of the salt water,
Grows the Caribbean pine.
They became legendary.

The water is timeless forever new and eternal.
A swampy amorphous depression;
The ever flowing river of time.
The Everglades.

Image from everglades-wilderness-waterway.com