Our pup just turned five months old. His favourite thing to chew? Paper. Or anything that resembles paper: Kleenex, napkins, notepads, leaves, bark, books, printed drafts of my in-progress manuscripts…

In the words of a friend: “Doesn’t he know he lives with a writer?”

Perhaps he chews books in solidarity with me: devouring them as I do. I figure that perspective–and his cuteness–may help ease the exasperation of the moment.

And by the way, if a student ever says–the dog ate my homework–don’t immediately discount it as a falsehood. It might very well be true.

Yes, it is National Poetry Month. And yes, we’re reading poems to our students, and hopefully novels in verse, too!

But if you’re looking to inspire your students to write their own poems, it’s fun to experiment. Look to these books for a fun twist on your regular approach:

Do you have any unique favourites to share?

If you haven’t yet read a novel-in-verse to your class, what are you waiting for?

A few favourites in a growing genre:

• Love That Dog by Sharon Creech
• Odder by Katherine Applegate
• Izzy Kline Has Butterflies by Beth Ain
• Missing Mike by Shari Green
• And then, Boom! by Lisa Fipps
• Deep Water by Jamie Sumner
• Murray Out of Water by Taylor Tracy
• Mid-Air by Alicia D. Williams
• Ebb and Flow by Heather Smith
• Inside Out and Back Again by Thanhha Lai
• Other Words for Home by Jasmine Warga
• Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson
• The Crossover by Kwame Alexander
• Becoming Muhammad Ali by Kwame Alexander and James Patterson (prose and verse)
• Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds *12 and up

Always, always read them yourself first: many of these books pack a powerful punch!

April is National Poetry Month! Although we are reading poetry with our students all year long, April is often the time we ask students to write poetry. To engage students in this process, it is essential we provide effective prompts.

Do you you remember Shel Silverstein’s poem Sick? It’s a list poem that begins,

“I cannot go to school today,”
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.”

(Read the entire poem here. Or crack open a copy of Where the Sidewalk Ends.)

What to do with this poem?

1. Read it in its entirety to students… more than once!
2. Examine the structure: the opening and closing lines, and the long hilarious list in between.
3. Discuss Shel Silverstein’s word choice. (How did he create rhythm and rhyme?)
4. Ask students to begin their poem with the line “I cannot go to school today” and let them decide who will say it (which can be their second line).
5. Then, give them time to write a long list of excuses as to why they can’t go to school.
6. When they’re ready, they can consider 2 or 3 lines to end the poem. Be sure to revisit the end of Sick at this time.
7. As with all poetry writing, encourage students to read their poems aloud to work on rhythm and word choice.
8. Revise, revise, revise!

“Poetry: the best words in the best order.” Samuel Taylor Coleridge

During every writing residency, I have at the same exchange at least a few times.

“Read me what you wrote today.”

“I don’t know how to read.”

“Yes, you do! Read as I point to your words.”

Often I say the first word or two, but then I get the student to ‘read’ the rest. Because our youngest writers have drawn first and the writing is scaffolded, they are able to ‘read’ as we point to one word at a time.

“I knew you knew how to read!”

<fist pump>

<grinning from ear to ear>

Sometimes we have to convince students they are readers and writers, showing our confidence in them until they find their own. For many, this is an important step in the journey!

Yet another Alberta convention season has come and gone. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting (and reuniting with) countless dedicated educators. Some days when we’re fighting for democracy, fighting for public education, we might question the role we play or the work we do.

I find comfort and purpose in Walt Whitman’s words,

“The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here—that life exists and identity, That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.”

When you return to your classroom tomorrow, remember–that you may contribute a verse–to each of those young lives before you. And what a verse it will be!

Have another few minutes? Listen to Robin Williams recite the poem in Dead Poets Society.

I have been asked on numerous occasions (usually by a little one), “Have you read all of those books?” If they’re on my bookshelf, the answer is yes! I also have a few to-read stacks in various places around the house. I find joy in all of these books: those that I’ve read, and those that I’m getting to.

I knew I wasn’t alone in the joy I get from books, including those on my to-read piles. What I didn’t know is that the Japanese have a word for it! The word tsundoku refers to the collecting and accumulating of books as a source of joy and anticipation. Who knew?

Do you have a to-read stack of books? Which book are you most looking forward to reading?

When students are absent from school, there are many implications: they miss instruction, their learning is interrupted, and they often feel behind and overwhelmed. For some, the longer they are away, the harder it is to return.

I recently saw an Instagram post by Pernille Ripp. She has “We miss…” written on the top of her classroom whiteboard. Each day she adds the names of the students who are absent. “We miss Isaiah and Phoebe,” for example. This response to student absences values the individual students.

As a teacher and administrator, I took a similar approach. If a student returned after a day or more away, or if they arrived late (one day or many), I always greeted them with, “It’s so good to see you.”

Often–especially for our young students–their late arrivals or absences are not within their control. Placing blame or guilt does nothing to entice them to be present. It is much more effective to show that we care for them as people and value their presence.

Every day counts.

We’ve had our new puppy for two weeks. As you might imagine, our world now revolves around his needs. With the puppy energy high, many of our previous routines have changed: I now enjoy my morning coffee while sitting on the floor tugging on a toy, for instance.

Charlie’s learning curve is steep: each day there are accomplishments, challenges, and a minor setback or two. We expect them, of course. After all, he’s only 11 weeks old.

When we think about the students in our classroom, we know there will be accomplishments, challenges, and sometimes minor setbacks too. We’re about 100 days into the school year. This may be an ideal time to ask students to reflect on the year so far.

Consider asking questions such as:

• What have you accomplished this year that you are especially proud of?
• What do you find challenging, in school or out?
• How does it feel to persist with something that you find challenging?

“A river cuts through rock, not because of its power, but because of its persistence.” James. N. Watkins

Last week, I encountered a few students who said “I can’t” and “I don’t know how” when I asked them to write. That belief is debilitating. And yet, with support and scaffolding, those students were able to write. Was it at the same level of their peers? No. But they wrote. Something.

It can be frustrating to have students in our classrooms who do not have the skills we would expect in the grade level we teach. In these moments it helps to remember that reading and writing are complex skills, and unlike oral language, they are not innate. When we better understand the complexity of what we are asking them to do, we have more patience to provide the support they need.

If we have students who truly believe they can’t, they may shut down when given a task. It’s on us to have confidence in them until they find a little of their own. Teach foundational skills, yes, but also expect and believe that they can.