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LaurenMarie3
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Name: Lauren
Birthday: 4/9/1984
Gender: Female
Interests: sunning on my deck. reading reading reading. music music. art. painting. traveling. you. beaches. and my handsome dog, Brooklyn.
Expertise: giving Brooklyn ear rubs. watching hours of TV. forgetting my Maker. obsessing over my job. weeding my garden. eating delicious food.
Occupation: Education/training
Message: message me
Member Since:
4/13/2004
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| Today my students shared their "Where I'm From" poems. They were BEAUTIFUL. They were captivating. They were well written. They were labored over. They were expressive. They were poems (and boys actually wrote them too). The kids were proud of them.
We took the time to read them aloud in class and just spent a class celebrating what they had achieved. I was genuinely impressed with their creativity and heard lines and descriptions I had not expected from some sixth graders.
There were lines like:
I'm from customization and torque,
I'm from petals floating softly down like paper,
I'm from stone buildings gilded in gold,
I'm from reparations yet untold,
I'm from whispers of leaves,
I'm from the man in the mirror with one glove on my hand,
I'm from where the tall grasses wave as you pass,
I'm from pointed, pink toes, an ambassador to the stage.
They complimented each other. Kids walked back to their desks smiling and proudly turned in their work. Today, I had the best job in the world, and all I did was provide an opportunity - for them to shine, for them to share, for them to be good, decent people who appreciate each other in a world where so much of what we do is belittle or criticize or WORK, WORK, WORK.
These are the days when I remember why I love being a teacher. I hope the kids sensed that too.
So, in honor of them, I am once again revising my "Where I'm From" poem. I hope you enjoy it. And I hope that somewhere out there, George Ella Lyons (the original Where I'm From writer) is proud of the tradition she has sparked at Wydown.
Where I’m From
By Lauren Simpson
I am from sugary drinks in summertime,
from pink-tinted cheeks and shoulders,
from hugs rather than handshakes,
and the generous heart of my father.
I am from "there are too many books and too little time,”
too much great music, too many cities,
but just enough money,
from finding faith in the south,
living life more north, and wanting more of You and less of me.
I am from countertop chats with knees tucked tight,
and reading cozy in my chair with Brooklyn,
from "aha" moments with oodles of "kids",
and hoping they feel warmth and confidence when they walk out my door.
I am from the salty Adriatic sea,
blue-green crystal water washing over rocks,
from lonely nights under softly lit lamps,
white washed houses with windmills turning,
and tropical peach flowers.
I am from mosaic tiles in a dizzying array,
a genius ahead of his time,
from tapestries and gilded gold edges,
stained glass through which glory shines,
and sparks of inspiration and color to carry me home.
I am from cultural curiosity,
from the melodies of ebony and ivory,
the beauty of the violin and the strumming of acoustics,
finding healing hiding in music.
I am from books unwritten,
scenery unexplored,
endless opportunities yet untapped.
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| Again....
It's funny (or not so) that I keep coming back to the same truths that I learned when I was young. I guess education is cyclical, which I've always known. You keep coming back to the the same core ideas over and over and learning new things, new aspects, each time. I love this about painting. I love this about literature. I love this about writing. I love this about music.
I do not love this about my life.
Somehow I feel like I should be above this, but maybe I need to realize that I fall into the same cosmic cyclical processes as everyone and everything else does. Maybe when I embrace that, my inadequacies won't seem so frustrating. Or maybe, there's power to change and rise above? I'm not sure. I guess it goes back to the idea that if I could figure everything out (i.e. life, God, how to control my life, etc.) than God would not be majestic enough to believe in. I suppose I need that dependency, but it's frustrating at times, like this morning.
"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash." Matthew 7:24-27.
I was that house this week, falling with a great crash. So, now I'm back at the start. | | |
| Found these while reading old Xanga posts today. Please don't be offended. Just embrace the insanity, like I do.
(notice this is Thanksgiving)
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
My grandpa has been in town for about 6 hours. Here are some of his all-star tactful comments of today:
"Lauren, you remind me of Martha Stewart with that one piece of hair that keeps falling in her eyes. Every time she brushes it out of her face, it just falls right back into her eyes. You should fix that." Later in the afternoon: "You still haven't fixed your hair."
"Yeah, and then your uncle married bird-terd. What's her name, again? Oh yeah - your aunt Becky. No one really likes her."
When giving my mom a gift: "You know, that's not cheap trash metal you've got there. That's 12 carat."
"Lauren - you don't like wine?" Me: "No, I've never been a huge fan." Grandpa: "You do know that Jesus Christ liked wine. I bet he'd like vodka too."
Cornering Brian in the garage: "You know, I would have done the same thing as Martha Stewart if I were in her position, and I bet a man would have gotten away with it. No one likes to see a woman on top. I sure as hell don't."
And my all-time favorite: While we were going around the table saying what we were thankful for, he blurted out, "You know, pomegranates are sex food. Lee should eat more of those." (his girlfriend at the time).
This week should be interesting. | | |
| Miro´s philosophy for art was so spot on. We visited Fundacio Joan Miro in Barcelona today. Though I couldn´t visualize, imagine, or even "read" all his paintings as he could, the idea behind them was fascinating and resonated with me, aligning with my beliefs about literature. This is the understanding that I want my students to have - that writing and reading literature TRANSCENDS! It is a reflection of a culture, a belief, and experience, a worldview.... and it mirrors the creation of art, music, and other humanities...
Miro partnered with poets with the same mindset and used their writing to inspire his work, allowed them to choose titles for his paintings (they would read them like poetry) or he might paint around or near a poem to communicate his understanding. I thought it was incredible.
On some levels, it´s not my job to teach this, though it is a core belief of mine that language, as art or music, is a system for communicating and offering thoughts, ideas, beliefs, or pictures to others about how we see the world, and in that mindset, it has value. Is it not my job to teach skills of observing and connecting as well. If I want my students to be lifelong learners and appreciaters, this is one way to communicate that.
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| "They loved me like a good novel, like an art film, and this is how I felt when I was with them, like a person John Irving would write. I did not feel fat or stupid or sloppily dressed. I did not feel like I did not know the Bible well enough, and I was never conscious what my hands were doing or whether or not I sounded immature when I talked. I had always been so conscious of those things, but living with [them] I forgot about myself."
-Blue Like Jazz, Donald Miller
I would so love to be loved like that. I have been, a few times in my life, by people, but it is a hard thing to find those who would sustain this interest in you. I would love to love others like that, but it is hard to sustain true love and awe of people like this. I should work on this. Or, more aptly, I should pray about this.
The only one I know who does this consistently is God.
"The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save. He will rejoice over you with singing. He will quiet you with His love." - Zephaniah 3:17
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