Writing Alongside My Students

Once, in a teacher-training class, we had to design a bumper sticker that encapsulated our philosophy in a phrase.

Mine looked something like this:

Today, in seventh grade English, we took a break for a teachable moment. It's International Mother Language Day, and our school has been organizing special events all week long. Today Stevie Mensah, aka Mensahighlife, kicked off an assembly with words and poetry extolling the importance of maintaining and celebrating Mother Tongue. He was followed by students singing, dancing and reciting poetry in the lovely languages of the world and my students (and I!) came into the room energized by words.

I realized that my plans for the day were about to change. I quickly found this great poem by Jamila Lyiscott and played it for my students.

As predicted, they loved it. When I invited them to try to write their own piece of spoken word poetry about language, I got the predicted groans, but they quickly set to work. It was a challenge, we only had 25 minutes, but they were reassured when I answered the automatic question - "Does it have to rhyme?" with my standard response, "A poem can be anything" and a silly, quickly improvised poem.

But then they heard the magic words and they truly calmed down - "I'm going to write with you." I've done this before, and it has transformative power in the classroom. Allowing my students to see me struggle for words, research, revise, delete, rewrite, and edit my work lets them know that writing isn't easy. It gives them a model for process and most importantly, it connects us as writers.

When we were finished, I attempted to perform my piece and invited other students to read theirs. Three volunteers filled the remaining time and students left wanting to finish and revise their work. The next time I see them, I know that more will want to share.

And now for what's it's worth (and in the spirit of total vulnerability), here's my working draft of my poem.

A Word is a Bridge

Today is the day we celebrate our mother tongue,

But as an English speaker, it’s easy to feel that I don’t have one.

INSTEAD, I’ll celebrate all the words that make me,

Build me,

Allow me to be free.

Now, they say that Mark Twain said,

“Travel is fatal to bigotry.”

And I believe that.

I believe that the experiences I’ve had

Have allowed me to better understand

The woman and the man

Across from me

On the subway

In the shops and markets

In early dawn’s light and midnight’s darkness.

But as I stare at the madness on the TV

I wonder why the people say,

“Why do these other people hate me?”

INSTEAD, I’ll try this.

Say medaase, shake a hand, snap a finger and bump a fist.

Say anyeonghasaeyo and bow. Namaste Auntie-ji, kya haal hai?

As-Salaam-Alaikum. Even though I’m not a Muslim.

Gracias. Merci beaucoup. Shukraan and a smile.

Culture and language are inextricably mixed

Learn a word and build a bridge.