Showing posts with label Press Democrat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Press Democrat. Show all posts

Thursday, March 23, 2023

Retro Russian River Poison Oak Festival photo redux

Some of my retro 1980s Russian River Poison Oak Festival photos from The Paper were published in the Press Democrat. Daylighting these old negatives is always good. Thank you Maci Martell.

Sunday, October 12, 2014

Bringing Poetry into Schools

For 50 years, bringing poetry into schools   BY KATIE WATTS

PETALUMA CORRESPONDENT

October 10, 2014, 2:11PM 

Maureen Hurley is a teacher poet with California Poets in the Schools, a collective of professional poets who bring literary craft into classrooms. This weekend they celebrated the group’s 50th anniversary with a conference at IONS retreat center in Petaluma, but before it began, Hurley took time to introduce the group and explain why and how they take poetry into classrooms.

What is the value of poetry?

Poetry allows us to examine our emotions and contemplate our thoughts. Doctor poet William Carlos Williams wrote, “It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.”

Wordsworth wrote, “Poetry is human emotion recollected in tranquility.” Not that there’s much by way of tranquility to be had during this day and age. In the process of recollection, poetry gives shape and form and meaning to those constantly chattering voices inside our heads, and renders them into an art form.

What can poetry accomplish that prose cannot?

Prose is to poetry as math is to music. You need both, but prose is analytical, expository and tends toward the utilitarian. Poetry is like dancing with words.

Poetry gives shape to our innermost feelings and presents them in a tangible art form that others can enjoy and get the Aha! epiphany. The ancient Greeks dubbed poetry the mother of all arts.

How does the Poets in the School program capture and hold a child’s interest?

Poets create a personalized, standards-based grade level curriculum and infuse it with magic and mystery, often marrying theatre, music and visual arts with the literary arts.

Through the immediacy and approachability of our lesson plans, we offer poems from the great body of literature, as well as peer student poems as models. It’s a mirroring process. We write our poems based on other poems.

Imagine being a student cut off from writing about your feelings and thoughts. With the current state curriculum standards, most student writing is expository, or fill in the dots, and there’s no room for creative self-expression.

Then imagine these wild poets who come along, take language, damsel it up and shake it all about. Suddenly that stuffy poetry is equal parts theater and soap-box pulpit, coupled with innermost feelings fueled by wild imagination. Suddenly it’s fun.

Most kids discover that writing their own poetry is liberating, especially those who traditionally don’t do well in school, or have trouble accessing the language arts curriculum.

Because there’s no right or wrong way to write poetry, it’s a place they can excel. Then, their poems are published in a school handout or a book, and suddenly poetry matters.

Why do you do this?

As a poet, I’m a role model. I can reach those kids who traditionally fall through the cracks and show them how they can access their minds. Poetry creates a powerful tool for change and self actualization.

A former student from Mark West School, who didn’t think poetry was important, called me up at midnight to read me a poem he had just written out of the blue.

If the program isn’t at my child’s school, how can I help bring it there?

The best way to get poetry into the schools is through a parent volunteer, the PTA or a teacher. There are numerous school and community funding sources that can be used to fund a poet’s residency. We are trained to work with teachers to locate and develop funding sources.

Contact Sonoma-Napa Area Coordinator Meg Hamill at megmariehamill@gmail.com, (415) 221-4201 or go to cpits.org.

Monday, October 6, 2014

The Value of Poetry: Pure Gold

After I sent out a zany email to the Press Democrat to cover our upcoming California Poets in the Schools symposium, Voices of Gold, they decided to write a little feature on me instead. Oops. I became the news. Last time the PD did a story on me, the Loma Prieta earthquake struck. The next time I had something big and newsworthy, 9/11 happened—just as I was going out the door to the Marin Poetry Center reading, and the coffee table book I was promoting, Writing the Rails—Best Loved Train Stories (Black Dog & Leventhal), was remaindered before it was released. Third time's a charm? These are my soft notes. It will be interesting to see how it will be shaped. It has a Sonoma County slant as those are the newspaper demographics. It took me two days to write this—like a cat writing my way out of a paper bag. Of course, now that I've sent it in (too late now), I see all kinds of rough segues, errors, and bits in need of revision. It is what it is...

What is the value of poetry?

The doctor poet-William Carlos Williams wrote: 'It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.” Poetry allows us to examine our emotions and and contemplate our thoughts. Wordsworth scribed: “Poetry is human emotion recollected in tranquillity.” Not that there’s much by way of tranquillity to be had during this day and age. In the process of recollection, poetry gives shape and form and meaning to those constantly chattering voices inside our heads, and renders them into an art form.

What can poetry accomplish that prose cannot?

Prose is to poetry as math is to music—you need both—but prose is analytical, expository, and tends toward the utilitarian. Poetry is like dancing with words. Poetry gives shape to our innermost feelings, and presents them in a tangible art form that others can enjoy, and get the Aha! epiphany. The ancient Greeks dubbed poetry as the mother of all arts. During a poetry lesson on “If…,” one of my kindergarten students at San Miguel School stood up and proclaimed: “If I were king of the universe, I’d dance for a living.” He got the Aha! moment.

Ironically I hated the study of poetry when I was young, because I didn't get it. I have dyslexia—which was part of the problem. But I was looking at form versus content, or meaning. As a writer, I’m not a big fan of metered verse, though we tend to speak in iambic stress. It took me a long time to make that full circle—which is ironic in that I coach high school students to recite poetry for the Poetry Out Loud competition.

CPITS poets create a personalized a standards-based grade level curriculum (California history, the ancient world, water cycles, or health ed.,) and infuse it with magic and mystery, often marrying theatre, music and visual arts with the literary arts.

How does the CPITS program capture—and hold—a child’s interest?

Through the immediacy and approachability of our CPTS poetry lesson plans, we offer poems from the great body of literature, as well as peer student poems, as models. It’s a mirroring process. We write our own poems based on other poems. 

Imagine being a student cut off from writing about your feeling and thoughts. With the current state curriculum standards, most student writing is expository, or fill in the dots, and there’s no room for creative self-expression. Then imagine these wild poets who come along, they take language, they damsel it up and shake it all about. Suddenly that stuffy poetry is equal parts theater and soap-box pulpit, coupled with innermost feelings fueled by wild imagination—and suddenly it’s all fun.

Most kids discover that writing their own poetry is liberating—especially those kids who traditionally don’t do well in school, or have trouble accessing the language arts curriculum. Because there’s no right or wrong way to write poetry, it’s a place where they can excel. Then, their poems are published in a school handout or a book—and suddenly poetry matters.

Suddenly you’ve kids with a vested interest in getting every word right, and every simile and comma in its exact right place. It happens like that. I was teaching in a tough East Oakland inner-city school where a fifth grader, Franklin, my star poet, was expelled. As he cleared out his desk, he eavesdropped in on the poetry lesson. He put his stuff down, grabbed some paper out of the trash, and madly wrote an amazing stream of consciousness poem that was later published in our 2012 CPITS anthology, Turning into Stars.

I wish there was a CPITS residency offered when I was in school. Since CPITS was founded in 1964, it could’ve been technically possible. It would’ve changed my entire relationship with school and with poetry. About the time I began to write poetry, I was also diagnosed with dyslexia. There’s a reason why I had so much trouble in school, and why did I have to wait until I was 30 to discover that I loved to write?

When traditional education failed, poetry taught me to think, and I went on to write essays and arts grants—I had seven California Arts Council artist-in-residency grant at Mark West School in Santa Rosa. And I became a feature writer for the Sonoma County Stump as well as for the West Sonoma County Paper (now the North Bay Bohemian.) None of it would’ve happened if I hadn’t discovered poetry.  

The reason why I’m in the classroom, is that, as a poet, I’m a role model. I can reach those kids who traditionally fall through the cracks, and show them how they can access their minds. Poetry creates a powerful tool for change and self actualization. A former student from Mark West School, who didn’t think poetry was important, called me up at midnight to read me a poem he’d just written out of the blue. Scott Meisner was a 21-year-old college student with a MBA who finally got the Aha! moment when he realized that poetry matters.

If the program isn’t at my child’s school, how can I help bring it there?

The best way to get poetry into the schools is usually through a parent volunteer, the PTA, or a teacher. At Alexander Valley School, a teacher, Peggy Maddock, brought poetry to the school—and now first grade teacher Shannon Hausman continues the tradition. Since 1991, I’ve taught an entire generation of Alexander Valley kids poetry.

There are numerous school and community funding sources that can be utilized to fund a CPITS residency. We are trained to work with teachers to locate and develop funding sources: including specialized school funds—from gifted and talented, youth at risk, library funds, etc; to state and local arts education resources: the Community Foundation of Sonoma County, and the California Arts Council. We’ve become gifted grantwriters in the process.

During this time of dire funding for the arts, we’ve some great breaking news: thanks to a California Arts Council /Artists in Schools grant, Sonoma County CPITS poets will offer long-term, in-depth poetry writing residencies at four schools in Sonoma County. Contact the Sonoma-Napa CPITS Area Coordinator Meg Hamill, megmariehamill@gmail.com, or the San Francisco CPITS office info@CPITS.org, (415) 221-4201, for more information.

CPITS, a collective of professional poets who bring literary craft into classrooms statewide, is one of the nation’s oldest visiting writers program—and this weekend we’re celebrating our 50th anniversary October 10-12 at IONS Earthrise Retreat on the Sono-Marin border. If you’re an artist and want to work in the schools, or you’re a teacher interested in enriching your language arts curriculum, our CPITS Symposium, Voices of Gold, is an excellent resource and training ground. We’ve ten more spaces open for day-use folks, either Saturday, or Saturday and Sunday. Two more IONS rooms just opened up if they need to stay over. The view from the ridge is breathtaking and the food is fabulous.

Our keynote will be former California Poet Laureate Al Young. On Friday, an intensive “method writing” workshop will be led by Los Angeles poet and screenwriter Jack Grapes. The symposium will also features spoken word artist Josh Healey and visiting poets from around the state who will share proven strategies to deliver hands-on and out-loud poetry in schools.

If you’d like to become involved as a teacher, poet, donor or school, please find us on the web at www.cpits.org to help build the future for young writers in California. Statewide CPITS residencies reach more than 25,000 students, and trained CPITS poets offer time-tested teaching tools to enhance literacy, and foster creative problem solving and self-expression. Poetry workshops are held at public and private schools, juvenile hall, libraries, after-school programs, hospitals, multilingual settings and other community venues.

And if you can’t come to the symposium, you might want to order our inaugural CPITS lesson plan book, “Poetry Crossing: 50 Lessons for K-12 Classrooms.” Edited by former CPITS AC, Phyllis Meshalum of Sebastopol, it’s a large format ready-to-roll writing lesson ideas for all ages.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

RIP Johnny Otis (Press Democrat obit)

RIP Johnny Otis.  (© Maureen Hurley photo/halftone).
Note bene: Johnny Otis (Mr. "Hand Jive"), surveying his Sebastopol ranch in the early 1990s. After a leisurely latte interview in his sunlit kitchen, he walked me down to the barn to show me his paintings and sculptures. Johnny was our godfather benefactor for The Russian River Writers' Guild. He called me up one afternoon after I did a front page story on him for The Paper, and he asked if I'd be willing to host thr RRWG poetry reading series at his Sebastopol Cabaret on blue Mondays. (Later, it was moved to Tuesdays.)  I asked him why he called me out of the blue versus myriad other Sonoma County poets and he said, "I only work with the best people, I asked around and you're the best." The only catch is you have to book someone every Monday night." We previously only booked two events a month. For two years, I worked my ass off rounding up poets every week. Luckily I had help: David Bromige, Steve Tills, and other Sonoma County poets pitched in to book poets and emcee. Great PA sound system. Great ambiance. Great poets. Great man. RIP Johnny.

See Dan Taylor's Press Democrat obit: Sonoma County musicians mourn Johnny Otis (I'm quoted in it). I also wrote a bio about him for the paper that I need to scan and post a tear sheet of it. The half tone photo above is from my original article.
'BIG-HEARTED' MUSIC LEGEND OTIS DIES AT 90
January 20, 2012 | Press Democrat, The (Santa Rosa, CA)
Author: DAN TAYLOR/ THE PRESS DEMOCRAT | Page: B1

To the world, Johnny Otis was the rhythm-and-blues music pioneer who wrote the classic 1958 hit, "Willie and the Hand Jive."

But to the people who knew Otis for the dozen years that he lived and worked in Sebastopol, starting in the early '90s, he was a friend, mentor and crusader for racial equality.

Otis, 90, had been in poor health for several years and died at home Tuesday in the Los Angeles suburb of Altadena, where he settled after he left Sebastopol.

"I certainly hate to see the world lose such an amazing character," said internationally known harmonica virtuoso Charlie Musselwhite of Geyserville, who first met Otis at a Los Angeles nightclub in the late '60s.

"I sat in with him lots of times," Musselwhite said. "He played all kinds of musical instruments -- drums and vibes. He was a deejay, painter, author, songwriter, singer, talent scout."

Born John Veliotes, the son of Greek immigrants, he grew up in a black neighborhood in Berkeley, and bonded with black music, culture and social issues. He eventually changed his name to Johnny Otis, because it sounded more like an R&B artist.

"He was a Greek who declared himself black," Musselwhite said.

Otis was leading his own band in 1945 when he scored his first big hit, "Harlem Nocturne." In 1950, 10 of his songs made Billboard Magazine's R&B top-hit charts, and his "Willie and the Hand Jive" sold more than

1.5 million copies. The song was used in the movie "Grease" in 1978 and was covered by rock star Eric Clapton.

He was known for his discovery of major rhythm-and-blues talents, including Etta James and Hank Ballard. Otis produced singer Big Mama Thornton's original recording of "Hound Dog," later a hit for Elvis Presley.

"Johnny had respect for musicians, and they respected him," said Bill Bowker of Santa Rosa's KRSH ("Krush") Radio station.

Northern California slide guitarist Roy Rogers once refused to host a radio show because it would have run at the same time as Otis' series on another station, Bowker said. Otis had a regular show, playing recordings on Pacifica Radio Network's stations, until ill health forced him to retire in 2005.

The people of Sonoma County got to know Otis after he opened his Johnny Otis Market and Deli in 1993 to sell his brand of organic apple juice. He and his band performed there on weekend nights, drawing large crowds, until the store closed two years later.

"I'll always remember those high-energy nights in his little Sebastopol eats-joint-turned-hot-music-club," said Katherine Hastings, Sonoma County poet and KRCB Radio show host. "No one in their right minds could stay in their seats."

In 1997, Otis briefly opened his own Land Mark Community Church in Santa Rosa, which he had run in Los Angeles 20 years previous.

A mentor to musicians, Otis also extended his support and encouragement to creative people of all kinds.

"A kindly, big-hearted man, he was always supportive of others in the arts," said Forestville artist and writer Maureen Hurley.

During his years in Sebastopol, Otis recorded his own music and other musicians at his own studio on his ranch.

"Johnny always had a great band," said Santa Rosa recording engineer Jason Andrews, who worked with Otis for four years. "I had many nights' meals with the Otises. There was always great soul food and hot sauce on the table."

Otis's survivors include his wife Phyllis, whom he married in 1941; sons, Shuggie and Nicky; daughters, Janet and Laura; and several grandchildren.

You can reach Staff Writer

Dan Taylor at 521-5243 or dan.taylor@pressdemocrat.com. The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Thursday, December 28, 1989

Press Democrat shoutout Some of the most interesting writers...

Apparently I got a Press Democrat shoutout, and never even knew it. “Some of the most interesting writers in the Press Democrat aren’t in the newspaper business.” The double truck spread ran from Dec. 28, 1989, to Jan 4, 1990








Wednesday, November 29, 1989

Press Democrat, Gaye LeBaron, USSR, Sasha Karpenko, Maureen Hurley

I never even knew that I made a dubious honorable mention in Gaye LeBaron’s Notebook, a Press Democrat column on my dealings in the USSR, an event with Sasha Karpenko at The Sweet Life Cafe.





Tuesday, October 17, 1989

LIVING ON THE EDGE, 10/17/89

LIVING ON THE EDGE, 10/17/89
          –for Susan Swartz

I yell at the cats fighting in the basement,
my cabin dips and sashays a slow dance toward the creek.
The mirror sways in supplication, oak trees shimmy,
acorns, falling hailstones, scolding squirrels and cats
aren't to blame, the deep growling is the earth itself.
Half-dressed, I run outside, laughing with neighbors,
there is almost a festive air, the ground undulating
beneath bare feet, a small boat on a bilious sea.
Eerie static fills the airwaves, when news finally breaks,
we are voyeurs watching events unfold on TV.
The Bay Bridge, a toy drawbridge, toy cars,
a mile and a half of collapsed freeway, Cypress St.,
a roller coaster bed, with cars sandwiched underneath,
bottles of unbroken wine no one scavages,
a column of literate smoke from the Berkeley Library.
The Marina's on fire and sinking, someone says.
A B-grade disaster movie upstaging the World Series`
and space shuttle to Jupiter. Atlantis rising.
The Ferry Building clock stops at 5:04 pm.
Women jog with firehoses, victory streamers,
bikers carry the old ones to safety on their backs.
Just five minutes from the street of death,
my exlover interjects how he's single again
and of the two women living in his house.
4It takes a 7.0 on the Richter Scale to break the ice
but patterns of behavior limit us. Rescuers,
out of body bags, switch to sleeping bags, who will help them?
Gallons of paint, spilled rainbows, symbol of hope,
my friends draw arches in the dirt to heal themselves.
The Pacific plate leaps ahead of the American plate`
in a slow race toward home—Alaska. Terremoto.
Like a war zone, as the landfill liquefies into jelly,
rubble from the 1906 quake rises to the surface
 in a horrible resurrection
of chaos, a system of physics, wild and convoluted.
Parking garages squash
into cement pancakes. Apartments fall, card houses. 
Already the dispossessed talk of rebuilding on the ruins.
Fissures in the streets boggles the mind.
In the time it took God to make the universe, the ballgame
is rescheduled. Disaster transcends the World Series.
When Gorbachev offers aid, many weep.
It takes the heat of Chernobyl & the 25,000 dead of Armenia 
to thaw the Cold War. Thousands homeless.
VP Quail smiles photogenically in the face of tragedy.
Bush calls up to say his presence would be a distraction,
then changes his mind. Though scientists claim there's no such thing
as earthquake weather, it's hot, still, like April 18, 1906.
We've become impatient with the notion of the unseen, the unexplainable.
Children are hearing things, closer to nature they feel it sooner.
With phone lines jammed, I don't even know if my mother is alive,
I get an obscene phone call. A media carnival descends upon us.
One more good aftershock and the newscastors would sink into the bay.
In a few million years, Los Angeles will be somewhere
off the Bering Straits. Hollywood, USSR.
An occupational hazard of living on the edge of the continent,
we're always waiting for the Big One to strike out.

10/17/89
Forestville