Thursday, May 10, 2018

CPITS teaching journal

I always tell the kids I can teach you simile, but I can't teach you metaphor, it has to come from within you. That's the real poet's work. Then Josiah wrote: Our friendship is a rope that can't be cut. I about died. Today's poem. Hot off the press, as it were. If I can't get original language from them, then what am I doing teaching them?

One first grader was lost in daydream-land, I got tired of prompting him and threatened to have a tantrum like a baby kicking and screaming. And the class began to chant: do it! do it! do it! Teacher threatened to join me. I laughed so hard. Stand-up comedy for first graders. A tough crowd to please. Kids were rolling in the aisles laughing.

The daydreamer came through with flying colors & finished his poem. Wrote a second one. I guess the thought of us screaming away on the floor was way too visual. The things we do for poetry.

Beyond knackered, I am. I've read, commented upon, and typed up 3 classes' worth of poems. But can't seem to begin the 4th class. Frog brain. Ribbit.

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