The City that Touches the Sky: Something to Say

Joy is a slow-burning fire,

A rich, black heap of coals glowing underneath ash.

Creating intense warmth

It burns in the night.

Happiness betrayed us,

Kindling us to hope with a pile of twigs.

Sparks without heat are

Quickly smothered.

Joy had to be built

With the substance of our souls, sacrificing our beauty.

So that when night falls

We can endure the cold.

“Joy” by Holly Shipman (inspired by the wisdom of Laura Lovern)

Oh poetry, how I’ve missed you. We are studying how to be poets in third grade, perhaps my favorite thing to teach. Really, it’s my favorite thing to watch. Even in a classroom of English-learners, it is such a thrill to see the way they pick up words and play with them on a page. And it doesn’t matter whether what they say is silly or serious or sweet. It doesn’t matter if they say it in 8 lines or 2. What matters is that they are learning how to use a gift that belongs to them: the power of their words.

Let me be honest. Poetry is one of my great loves. (That, and maybe chocolate.) Some of this may be my own inclination, but it also has a great deal to do with my parents and teachers. Parents who filled our house with books and read them out loud. Teachers who encouraged me to write and then keep writing. I was the little girl who came home from school wiggling with excitement and declaring, "We get to write a poem with our SPELLING words!" (True story)

However, in recent years many elementary school teachers have begun to steer away from poetry. They do this for two reasons: 1) It isn’t tested on state assessments, and 2) it’s “too hard” for kids to master. Input, output. What’s the point?

The question stands: Does poetry have a place anymore? Is it worth the time if we can’t objectively measure it? Is it worth the energy if everyone’s too busy to listen to it?

Taking a hard look, it’s clear that we live in a communicative age of pompous, parading words. We showcase our lives to the world with Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook updates. We can instantly reach others through comments, texting, and email. Websites are littered with bold advertisements and news headlines. Quick, easy, accessible. Let’s not beat around the bush. Sell it and say it in 10 words or less. (In fact, if you’re still reading this, either you’re my mom or you just really like me.)

But it isn’t merely the brevity of our words – it’s what we’re saying. And the truth is, ninety percent of it is hardly worth saying. And an ever-increasing percentage includes things we will regret saying. (If you’re a Facebook user like me, scroll through your newsfeed and tell me I’m lying.)

How much time and energy do we really spend on words anymore? How much time and energy should we spend on them? Because Scripture tells us, our words are costly.

Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent. ~Proverbs 17:28

Do you see a man who is hasty in his words? There is more hope for a fool than for him. ~Proverbs 29:20

A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion. ~Proverbs 18:2

Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble. ~Proverbs 21:23

And even though it isn’t from the book of Proverbs, this one is just the cherry on top:

Wise men speak because they have something to say; fools because they have to say something. ~Plato

Ouch.

So what does this have to do with poetry? It all comes back to the power of our words. Teaching poetry means teaching children that every word matters, and we must choose those words carefully. It teaches them that the worthiest things to say take time and energy. They require thought and intelligence.

The “problem” of poetry is about teachers, not the students. If we are not lovers of language, its dynamic ability to move through tongues and text and art, then we cannot expect our children to inherit this gift and use it well.

So, as I would say in my classroom, “CHALLENGE TIME!” If you’ve written one hundred status updates and sent one thousand text messages, but haven’t written a poem in a while, give it a try. I dare you. I dare you to write about the smell of garlic, or the way you hate wet socks, or all the things you love about your nephew, or what you should have said before your dad died. And I dare you to not give up after the first few, awkward lines. (If my eight-year-old English learners can do it, so can you.) And who knows? Maybe there’s something there that’s finally worth saying.

Because it is our responsibility to embrace the gift and wring it out like an old sweater, praying that something beautiful and worthy will be created in and through us.

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HIS Third Grade updates! Before we started poetry, we focused on a nonfiction informational writing unit. The kids created their own All-About books with an animal of their choice. Many of them did a spectacular job!

This past Friday, we took a BIG field trip to the ancient Bolivian ruins of Tiwanaku, which was once the capital city of the Incan empire. The kids learned a lot and had so much fun with some hands-on activities on a nearby indigenous Bolivian farm.