This week's wrestle as a level was over poetry reading.
We started by reading a poem called "If They Should Come for Us" by Fatimah Asghar (posted at the bottom of this post). It comes from the Poetry magazine, March 2017 edition. Our fantastic facilitator asked us to think about this question, "What do I do when I read?" as we read the poem. And somewhere in my notes, I jotted down the question, "How can I help students do the same?" That second question is funny--the ambiguity of "the same" is what led me into this blog reflection.
We all read the poem independently, and took notes. And then our facilitator asked the question of the room: "What did you note when you read?"
I was listening for things I could "teach" my students. I was thinking, "Oh, if he noticed that, then I should teach them that." I wondered about people noticing rhyme scheme. Or noticing word patterns. Or noticing punctuation.
And then my colleagues started talking. And they didn't notice anything that I noticed. In fact, four different colleagues spoke about their experience of the poem, and they each spoke of something completely different. One went to the earth/moon imagery of the poem. One focused on the ampersands (I love ampersands, but I didn't even notice they were there). By the time they were finished speaking, I realized we weren't talking about how to teach our students to read poetry, but we were talking about how to teach students how to find their own lens through which to read poetry and engage with a text.
I wonder if it is less about what I do when I read and more how I can support students to do something as they read. And then to turn that something into interpretation. We're really interested in developing critical thinkers who can entertain multiple perspectives and multiple interpretations; how do we get them there?
What I offer here is less a lesson plan and more of a line of thinking that might turn into a lesson plan for me at some point. We know that one of the strongest determinants of a student's ability to interpret a text is their ability to connect to that text; we always bring our own background with us when we sit down to read, and if we are at least within our zone of proximal development on the difficulty of a text, our brain will be making connections to whatever it can as we read intentionally.
So the first question I might ask students when they do a read of a poem is, "What did you connect with in this poem, and why?" As I read the poem the first time, I very much connected to the phrase "my people, my people" in the poem. And it made me wonder and think about who gets included in "my people" for this poet? For me?
And I wondered if just starting there. With all kinds of connections from a class of readers. Would be a great starting point for discussion. "What did you notice? What did you connect with?"
And then, as I listened to my fellow teachers talk about the poem, I thought, "Wait! This is the point in this reading lesson!" It is to guide students to make their own connections with the poem. And then those connections they make will give them the lens to look through to interpret the poem. For me, I was interested in the repetition of that phrase--I could go through the poem and ask myself or others discussing the poem how that repetition contributes to the meaning of the poem. For my &-appreciating colleague, perhaps the analysis of the poem becomes about the use of punctuation (or the not-use of punctuation). Both seem to be valid lenses through which to analyze this poem.
And that's it. It's not really about teaching them to look for repetition or word choice or punctuation or sonnet form... at least not at first. It's about helping them to realize the power of noticing. And then helping them take that noticing one step further to analysis. And then facilitating the comparison of their analysis up against another classmate's analysis.
My point? (And I do have one--I'm wordy today.) Sometimes I can look at things at the ten-foot level when I should be looking at them at the 100-foot or 1,000-foot level. Instead of trying to teach this poem (10-foot level) or this particular literary device of repetition (100-foot level), there's a way to start them at the 1,000-foot level that they can connect with themselves. All about those personal lenses.
Poetry. To wrap this school year.
"If They Should Come for Us," Fatimah Asghar
these are my people & I find
them on the street & shadow
through any wild all wild
my people my people
a dance of strangers in my blood
the old woman’s sari dissolving to wind
bindi a new moon on her forehead
I claim her my kin & sew
the star of her to my breast
the toddler dangling from stroller
hair a fountain of dandelion seed
at the bakery I claim them too
the sikh uncle at the airport
who apologizes for the pat
down the muslim man who abandons
his car at the traffic light drops
to his knees at the call of the azan
& the muslim man who sips
good whiskey at the start of maghrib
the lone khala at the park
pairing her kurta with crocs
my people my people I can’t be lost
when I see you my compass
is brown & gold & blood
my compass a muslim teenager
snapback & high-tops gracing
the subway platform
mashallah I claim them all
my country is made
in my people’s image
if they come for you they
come for me too in the dead
of winter a flock of
aunties step out on the sand
their dupattas turn to ocean
a colony of uncles grind their palms
& a thousand jasmines bell the air
my people I follow you like constellations
we hear the glass smashing the street
& the nights opening their dark
our names this country’s wood
for the fire my people my people
the long years we’ve survived the long
years yet to come I see you map
my sky the light your lantern long
ahead & I follow I follow
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