Where I'm From

I am a high school English teacher and Resource Specialist; currently, I teach literature classes to students with Specific Learning Disabilities.

At the moment, my freshman literature classes are learning all about sensory details. We're practicing (diligently) the art of extracting meaning (inference) from the pictures an author paints with their words (observation).  In  typical Humboldt County (dreadlock-loving-incense-burning-censorship-protesting) fashion, I asked my students to explore the art of sensory detail from the author's perspective by writing a poem about themselves (poem?! damn those hippies). The assignment called for the use of sensory detail (adjectives, lovelies, adjectives!) as the catalyst for their written presentation of themselves. They were to describe "themselves" by painting a picture of where (in the most general sense) they are from. This is a potentially daunting task for kiddos who have a really hard time "getting" anything that isn't explicitly taught to them.

But we embarked on the good old daunt, because we're awesome.

I wrote a poem as an example. Here's the "teacher model":
 

I am from cool suburbia with low flying planes,

From high, arched ceilings and jam-packed lanes.

From sprinklers at dawn for a thirsty lawn.

I am from tight, narrow circles,

dancing around an empty living room

to long lost diva tracks (all of love and gloom).

I am from burning, itching, sun block filled eyes

and summer songs as we say our goodbyes.

I’m from “ah, it’s a girl!”

and “let’s give it a whirl.”

From climbing grove-grown orange trees,

 and riding bikes with our busted up knees.

             

I’m from mushroom pizza, salty fries,

and huge slices of summer-sweet fruits.

I'm from commuter cars and thrift shop buys,

beach barbeques and vintage cowboy boots.

           

From the flyaway nights of forgotten dreams,

Confined out of one window and into another.

To the sweet, mellow morning time bliss

of the doting, hopeful, hovering mother.

Under my bed was the monster that never spoke,

boxes of photos, and an empty bottle of diet coke.

I am from those moments—

From songs in my head about a glorious leap.

To singing softly to my sweet child as she drifts off to sleep
 
My students were all given prompts (e.g.: "describe the house you lived in while you were growing up") to assist them along their way, but it was their job to be as descriptive as possible.

Difficulty level: moderate. Output: excellent.

Here are some of the incredible bits of genius that emerged:

" I am from a time when my mom was still alive and the trees would change colors while we watched."  (sob)
 

"Under my bed was  a big monster that ate my shoes."

 (hee hee)

"I am from nice clean bathrooms, and delicious Mexican food."

(niiiiiice)

Overall, a huge success and lots of fun.

(I <3 hippies)