Educator Note:

Leila Parks

Mission Hill School, Boston, MA

Recreating the in-person classroom experience, after 18 months of socially distant learning, was a challenge to say the least. In our mixed third and fourth grade class, we suddenly had no mute button, no option to turn the camera off, no “Oops, my wifi got messed up.” It took some practice to complete writing assignments without frequent snacks, to stay awake during an entire afternoon lesson, and to give each other patience as we readjusted to being together. 

One of the hardest things to get used to was the impressive (or oppressive?) amount of reading and writing expected in a third and fourth grade classroom. Our stamina had taken a big hit. We needed to start with smaller chunks of text, but still hoped to dig as deep as we would in a chapter book. Thus, we turned to poetry. 

In poetry, students could discover just a page of writing that was packed with emotion and meaning. We found ourselves re-reading our favorites, Maya Angelou and Langston Hughes, as well as exploring more recent poets like Elizabeth Acevedo and Amanda Gorman. We read a novel in verse by Janice Harrington that every student could relate to. Poetry helped us understand our feelings and rebuild our community.

Next, we wanted to connect more with our favorite poets. We conducted research to learn about each poet’s inspiration. Why did they become poets? Most were inspired by their lives, their culture, their fears and their joys. We got to know our poets so well, it was like they were members of our class! 

And then we took a pause. I’m pretty sure the students thought I had forgotten about poetry all together. We switched modes, read some narratives, and I asked students to write stories about a time they were proud of themselves, or a time they felt joyful. They brainstormed, they story-mapped, they drafted and re-drafted. Soon we had a beautiful collection of personal narratives. It was a comfortable assignment, very much in line with what students had done in second grade. Then I threw them for a loop.

I asked students to retell the feelings of joy and pride from their narratives, but this time in the form of a poem.

I didn’t provide a standard poetry model to follow. I offered numerous examples, especially highlighting Vanessa Brantley-Newton’s Just Like Me collection, and I asked students to remind one another of common characteristics of poetry (rhythm, alliteration, rhyme, repetition, metaphors, etc.), but I left the assignment completely open ended. What makes someone a poet? What makes a poem a poem? This was entirely up to the class.

Some students were stuck. “I don’t know how to write a poem.” “I’ve never done this before.” We experienced some serious writer’s block. I prompted students, “Think back to your narratives. What feelings did you have in those stories?” For some students, my co-teacher and I just started writing down notes as they said them aloud. “Proud.” “Excited.” “Sick at first, but then happy.” “Annoyed.” “Overjoyed.” “Nauseous.” “Awesome.” Then we walked away. And the magic happened.

Looking at their feelings on paper, students began to see the power of each word. More words began flowing. Students started reading their work to one another, and editing to break up lines and stanzas. Some found their rhythm right away. Others began with narrative-style writing, and then deleted every word that wasn’t necessary. They all read their work over and over, and I could see them smile as they remembered the emotion of their original experience. 

We were working on our poems just as the pandemic began hitting new peaks. The Omicron variant led to a sudden spike in student and staff absences, a return to social distancing, and the seemingly constant reminder, “masks up.” Things got a little scary once again. And yet, we smiled as we read and re-read, edited and re-edited our poems about joy and pride. 

What you read here is just the beginning. It is a spark of joy in the darkness as these 8- 9- and 10-year-olds discover themselves as poets.

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Leila Parks teaches an inclusive third and fourth grade class at the Mission Hill School in Boston. She loves watching students’ faces as they realize they have accomplished something that they thought was impossible.