Spent the day at a very delightful, productive, and useful poetry workshop. We read poetry and were inspired and encouraged to write our own poetry. We left with some great ideas to bring back to our students next year that I'm excited about.
We were asked to write about our name. Where it came from. What does it mean. This is what I wrote...
My name, Zinnia, was given to me by my father. He wanted a flower name but not one as common as Rose or Lily. So he spent hours looking through a book of flowers until he found Zinnia and rolled with it. I've hated my name all my life because, well, kids can be cruel and teachers could never get that attendance roll call correctly. Until I became a teach and read the book Chrysanthemum and thought, damn, at least Dad got passed that one!
We were asked to write a poem about our name or nickname. A poem about the name of places like your hometown, your subdivision, your estate. This is what I wrote...
This is Zinnia
Zinnia is like a bull in a china shop with
Mouth agape and the roar of her laughter cracking through the room shocking the senses of those around
Haci no se rie una señorita, dice mi madre
But I call her Zinnia the one who laughs the loudest because she has found her true happy life
This is Zinnia
Zinnia is like a word slinger
Using them as weapons knowing how to make the deepest cuts with the most appropriate of slays
Sin pelos en la lengua, haci no habla una señorita
But I call her the bullshit chopper
Using words to chop it down and keep it off and away from me.
This is Zinnia
Zinnia is like a spiky haired, robust whale of confidence
Using her smile as a cover and her laughter as a protector and identifier
But I call her Zinnia, de casa Garcia and now from hogar Bayardo, the one who's known true, lasting pain but also knows true, healing love using the pain as a lesson to embrace the good and sweetness of life and love.
We were asked to write a poem of instructions. Instructions on how to get to a place or to someone. This is what I wrote...
Come
Enter
Andale entra!
It's open for you to enter
Oh you don't know how to get there?
The instructions are easy, long and involved, but it has been paved
First take a trek to el Norte, the land of wealth and fortune
Your Mami and Papi did that for you
Learn the the complicated tongue that makes your own tongue stumble with every other word
Your Papi did that for you, "Aye, cabron! No lo entiendo but ju like mi englich?"
Learn to laugh at the not so funny jokes of Johnny Carson comparing him to the always hilarious Cantinflas
Your Mami did that for you, "No, no y no le entiendo su Carnac el magnificent!"
Take odd jobs as a seamstress, a housekeeper and a salesman of all things to make the green
Your Mami and Papi did that for you
What is this place you've had the honor to be invited to?
Its the rich and wondrous world of your life in Los United
for a better life,
for an education
Your Mami and Papi fought for your invitation
Appreciate it
We were asked to write a letter to someone or something or an idea. This is what I wrote...
This is a letter to the jaded, know-it-all middle school kid that says I don't need to read because I passed all my STAAR tests
By Zinnia Bayardo
"I don't need to get any books, Ms! I passed all my STAAR test!"
Hold on,
One moment, please.
I will respond
Just give me a minute.
I need my eyes to roll back from the part of my brain scientifically called the Lobe of High Annoyance
Dear kiddo,
Yes, you passed the stupid test
Oops, I said that out loud, didn't I?
I'm sooooooo proud of you.
Whoops! There go my eyes again!
But have you thought about the you girl in India married off at a young age now widowed and shipped off to a widows home because she is no longer valuable?
Read Homeless Bird by Gloria Whelan.
Have you thought about young George wanting desperately to be seen and called she and to play Charlotte in the school play he is not a she and coming out as transgendered is no easy thing in today's world?
Read George by Alex Gino
Have you thought about the life a child born in a Jewish ghetto and at just four years old lived in Auschwitz and survived to write his true story of amazing survival?
Read Survivors Club by Michael Bornstein
Have you thought about the true consequences and repercussions when texting and driving and surviving the deaths of your best friends having to live with the regret and the searing eyes of mourning family members?
Read Goodbye Days by Jeff Zentner.
Have you thought about how the female of the species can be the strongest and most vicious of the species when backed into a corner by a sexual predator?
Read The Female of the Species by Mindy McGinnis.
You see, my young dear reader.
And, yes, you are a reader
if you let yourself be.
We don't just read to pass some silly test.
We read to live a thousand lives.
Rather than just the one we know.
We read to know other lives.
We read to know about others.
We read to feel compassion and empathy.
We read to learn of the stranger things, the oddities, the amazing, the beautiful
We read to not repeat, dear God, let us not repeat.
We read to travel the world when we can't leave our home
We read because the reading contributes to the us that we send off into the world.
So, please, for the love of all humanity
and for the love of a kind and caring world,
PLEASE READ, YOUNG CHILD!
Love,
Your sometimes frustrated
But ever hopeful,
Librarian,
Mrs. Bayardo
In a room filled with educators this last one was the most relatable one and got the most applause and high remarks.
Go figure.
We were asked to write about our name. Where it came from. What does it mean. This is what I wrote...
My name, Zinnia, was given to me by my father. He wanted a flower name but not one as common as Rose or Lily. So he spent hours looking through a book of flowers until he found Zinnia and rolled with it. I've hated my name all my life because, well, kids can be cruel and teachers could never get that attendance roll call correctly. Until I became a teach and read the book Chrysanthemum and thought, damn, at least Dad got passed that one!
We were asked to write a poem about our name or nickname. A poem about the name of places like your hometown, your subdivision, your estate. This is what I wrote...
This is Zinnia
Zinnia is like a bull in a china shop with
Mouth agape and the roar of her laughter cracking through the room shocking the senses of those around
Haci no se rie una señorita, dice mi madre
But I call her Zinnia the one who laughs the loudest because she has found her true happy life
This is Zinnia
Zinnia is like a word slinger
Using them as weapons knowing how to make the deepest cuts with the most appropriate of slays
Sin pelos en la lengua, haci no habla una señorita
But I call her the bullshit chopper
Using words to chop it down and keep it off and away from me.
This is Zinnia
Zinnia is like a spiky haired, robust whale of confidence
Using her smile as a cover and her laughter as a protector and identifier
But I call her Zinnia, de casa Garcia and now from hogar Bayardo, the one who's known true, lasting pain but also knows true, healing love using the pain as a lesson to embrace the good and sweetness of life and love.
We were asked to write a poem of instructions. Instructions on how to get to a place or to someone. This is what I wrote...
Come
Enter
Andale entra!
It's open for you to enter
Oh you don't know how to get there?
The instructions are easy, long and involved, but it has been paved
First take a trek to el Norte, the land of wealth and fortune
Your Mami and Papi did that for you
Learn the the complicated tongue that makes your own tongue stumble with every other word
Your Papi did that for you, "Aye, cabron! No lo entiendo but ju like mi englich?"
Learn to laugh at the not so funny jokes of Johnny Carson comparing him to the always hilarious Cantinflas
Your Mami did that for you, "No, no y no le entiendo su Carnac el magnificent!"
Take odd jobs as a seamstress, a housekeeper and a salesman of all things to make the green
Your Mami and Papi did that for you
What is this place you've had the honor to be invited to?
Its the rich and wondrous world of your life in Los United
for a better life,
for an education
Your Mami and Papi fought for your invitation
Appreciate it
We were asked to write a letter to someone or something or an idea. This is what I wrote...
This is a letter to the jaded, know-it-all middle school kid that says I don't need to read because I passed all my STAAR tests
By Zinnia Bayardo
"I don't need to get any books, Ms! I passed all my STAAR test!"
Hold on,
One moment, please.
I will respond
Just give me a minute.
I need my eyes to roll back from the part of my brain scientifically called the Lobe of High Annoyance
Dear kiddo,
Yes, you passed the stupid test
Oops, I said that out loud, didn't I?
I'm sooooooo proud of you.
Whoops! There go my eyes again!
But have you thought about the you girl in India married off at a young age now widowed and shipped off to a widows home because she is no longer valuable?
Read Homeless Bird by Gloria Whelan.
Have you thought about young George wanting desperately to be seen and called she and to play Charlotte in the school play he is not a she and coming out as transgendered is no easy thing in today's world?
Read George by Alex Gino
Have you thought about the life a child born in a Jewish ghetto and at just four years old lived in Auschwitz and survived to write his true story of amazing survival?
Read Survivors Club by Michael Bornstein
Have you thought about the true consequences and repercussions when texting and driving and surviving the deaths of your best friends having to live with the regret and the searing eyes of mourning family members?
Read Goodbye Days by Jeff Zentner.
Have you thought about how the female of the species can be the strongest and most vicious of the species when backed into a corner by a sexual predator?
Read The Female of the Species by Mindy McGinnis.
You see, my young dear reader.
And, yes, you are a reader
if you let yourself be.
We don't just read to pass some silly test.
We read to live a thousand lives.
Rather than just the one we know.
We read to know other lives.
We read to know about others.
We read to feel compassion and empathy.
We read to learn of the stranger things, the oddities, the amazing, the beautiful
We read to not repeat, dear God, let us not repeat.
We read to travel the world when we can't leave our home
We read because the reading contributes to the us that we send off into the world.
So, please, for the love of all humanity
and for the love of a kind and caring world,
PLEASE READ, YOUNG CHILD!
Love,
Your sometimes frustrated
But ever hopeful,
Librarian,
Mrs. Bayardo
In a room filled with educators this last one was the most relatable one and got the most applause and high remarks.
Go figure.