By Tyler French | Innovation and Partnerships Director
If you are an educator or teaching artist, or someone who works closely with youth, I invite you to think about the times you’ve been delighted, surprised, or floored by the work your students produce. If you do not work with youth directly, I invite you to ask an educator friend if they can recount this experience for you.
As a poet and educator, I was floored by the poems Nikolai R. wrote during a spoken word residency with Story Tapestries Teaching Artist, Regie C. at Pemberton Elementary. I know and have experienced first hand how poetry can not only build literacy skills but also unlock something special for students. Poetry’s intense focusing of language, paired with the poem’s freedom from strictly “correct” syntax and grammar, and freedom from “making sense” allow students to explore, to try, and to find additional avenues for expression. Given the right mix of structure, tools, and gentle guidance they soar.
We wanted to share with you two poems Nikolai R. wrote. Your support makes it possible for students to have these residencies during which they build their literacy skills and dig deeper the wells of their expression. Thank you for your ongoing support of Story Tapestries and for being a part of providing these life-changing, arts-integrated literacy programs for youth throughout the region.
If you have experienced a moment of being floored by a student’s work, we invite you to share that experience with us on our Facebook page. As we approach the end of this calendar year, let's take time to record and cherish these moments and pledge to enter the year with more poetry.
Depression
My anger is as red as crayon,
a fire ant, as the river overflows
like my suitcase, tide rising.
I look for something out the window
to control. My patience is as small
as a baby snake, the more the clouds
pour rain, the more I am depressed.
My anger comes back like a boomerang
and my anger control is as small
as a piece of sand as the egg cracks
the more I want to do something.
Days go on as I bang my head
on stone, more ideas come to me
the wind blows as hard as I get
angry as I beat the drum the more
I feel good the flames of fire burn
in depression as the ice melts,
the memories come to me
in torment as the bridge collapses,
the more terrified people I see
as I count the sides of a square
the more depressed I become
as the fire burns out you see
the smoke of doom as I kick the wall,
the wall gives up and I am depressed.
I am always feeling blue as the cyclone
spinning the more I feel the wind,
the dragon spits fire the more I feel
myself as the sad music that is played
the depressing memories try to seep out,
I am a piece of ice that burns in the fire.
The moon shines in the moonlight
The moon
is the opposite of me,
bright.
I am as non-silent
as the moon
I talk a lot as the moon
shines in the night
but not day
the moon shines in a path
not my way
the sun shines my way!
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By Tyler French | Innovation and Partnerships Director
By Tyler French | Innovation and Partnerships Director
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