Poetry Tea, er, Smoothietime!

Poetry Teatime

Our first week of the 2013-2014 school year, brought our first foray into the world of Brave Writer Poetry teas– Teatime Tuesday. Well, we are not really tea drinkers (ducks and hides) and while I love the idea…I thought in order to hook my kids, I probably should offer them something that they would LOVE and get excited about– smoothies it is!

Following the BW instructions I put a table cloth on the table (well, the closest thing to a table cloth I had!), a candle in the middle, broke out some of the poetry books we had on our shelf, made some smoothies, and called in the troops.

The kids perused the poetry books (that they had never laid hands on before), and each chose one to read aloud. C chose for me to read his for him and I was ok with that. We read poems by Robert Louis Stevenson, Christina Rosetti, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. The one I chose was by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and we read some of the fun facts about her life in The Child’s Introduction to Poetry.

Poetry Smoothietime

After reading our poems, we added our own twist to end our poetry “smoothie” time. BW suggests ending with a read aloud. However, going along with one of BW’s Jot it Down writing projects we are doing, we plan to read a fairy tale to end our poetry time. Jot it Down has a fairy tale writing project where the kids write their own summaries of fairy tales and make their own books. So much fun! The kids loved reading the story The Snow Queen. It was a new one for all of us!

Our first Poetry Smoothie Tuesday was a success, the kids were begging for more! I love it! It may not be tea, and it may never again be on a Tuesday, but it it was great fun anyway!

~Nicole

From her blog, One Magnificent Obsession.

Visit our Poetry Teatime website!

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One Mouth, Two Ears

One Mouth, Two Ears

The saying goes that listening must be more important than talking because we have two ears and one mouth. That rubric is certainly true with children. When they talk, they are learning. When you talk, they are drinking at a fire hose!

Of course you have to explain ideas or instructions, and there are times when your kids are hanging by your every word, eager for the end of the story or the explanation of an idea or event that they can’t discover alone.

Yet the most important part of your writing program has to be helping your children find a reason to talk to you. Many of them do already, which is a good start. But you can’t tune out and rearrange your spice drawer in your imagination while they recite how they beat level two on Halo. You have to pay attention and engage.

It’s difficult to listen to our kids. Our own heads are full of important information, dates and times of appointments, and the slew of worries that beset adults in long-term-committed relationships and who also run households. Worse, some of our kids talk in ways that remind us of nails scratching on a blackboard (loud, disorganized, rambly, details without context, information we don’t care about, ums and uhhs, wiggling the body while talking).

Your goal isn’t to transform into a perfect parent (we all get bored at times by our children). Your goal is to raise the level of intentionality. Deliberately listen sometimes. Pay good attention. Give feedback that makes it apparent you were listening (don’t shush, control, or revise the output; receive it).

You want to say words like:

  • Hmm. I never considered that.
  • Oh!
  • How amazing!
  • What happened next?
  • Youch!
  • Were you surprised (scared, mad, amazed, thrilled, sad, confused…)?
  • And then what happened?
  • What did you think about that?
  • What did you say to that?
  • How many (how big, how far, how much time, how long, how challenging, how easy, how precise, how carelessly, how tricky…)?
  • Geesh!
  • Oo la la!
  • Oh boy!
  • You have to be kidding me!
  • You must be (so good at it, so happy you went, so angry you lost, so thrilled you got to participate, so relieved you found it, so surprised you were included, so impressed with yourself, so disappointed by this experience, so eager to try again, so done, so ready to tell your sister all about it).

Your job is to NOT say:

  • That’s absurd.
  • You should never do that.
  • I don’t understand why you did it that way.
  • That sounds so boring.
  • Why would you spend your time doing that?
  • I hate that!
  • Oh yuck. Stop talking. You are grossing me out.
  • You need to be (more careful, quicker, less impatient, quieter, a better worker, nicer, more interested in books than computers).
  • Go talk to your friends.
  • Not now, later.
  • Hurry up and finish. I have things to do.

Don’t make hand gestures that make your kiddos rush through their tale. Don’t roll your eyes or click your tongue or let your eyes wander back to the computer screen.

Be present.

The Brave Writer Philosophy

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Brave Writer Spotlight: Douglas Henningsen

From Brave Writer mom, Kellie:

Hi Julie – I had to share what my almost 14 year old son [Douglas] wrote for the first assignment in the Help for High School curriculum. I had my co-op class do this assignment in class and gave them about 12 minutes as we were a little crunched on time. I wanted a list of random words to do with the topic he chose, “reading a novel” but he came up with the following instead and to me it’s beautiful and poetic. He is now going to do the second stage of this assignment and write a paragraph using your instructions but I told him we are going to keep the list “as is” so he’ll have two completed works as I find this to be so unique.

Reading at night
Warmth, comfort, pillow against my back.
Book waits.
Read the cover
Open book
Excited
Anticipation
Book opens to me
Swallows me whole
The scene flashes in my eyes
Characters are struggling
Heart pounding
Emotional
trying to help
in the story
nervous
scared
relieved
everything on the tip of a knife
the knife is flying at your face
keep reading
love
pain
heartache when its over
but it’s not
get next book
open the cover
start again
reading more than once
picturing the scenes
the video keeps playing
the rollercoaster starts
we start the incline
its building up
reading on
clock hits 10:00
keep on reading
the final scene
tears in my eye
white knuckles clutch the book
sweat on my brow
I don’t want it to end
Why does it have to end
Clock hits 11:00
Someone dies
Pain in my heart
The pain of her brother
The same pain is mine
Sorrow fills my heart
The page rustles
The smooth paper flips by
Suffering
The fight goes on
I can feel it
In my heart
Tears fill my eyes
But its ok
I can keep going
11:30
I close the book
Its over
I read the back
I put it down and close my eyes
And there it is
I can see it again
In my head
But this time I know how it ends
This time I wont be scared
This time its ok
Then it starts again
I visit it in my dreams
I drop out of consciousness
And open the cover.

[Below] is the second part of the assignment. I’m not sure he learned how to write an anecdote as it’s several paragraphs. But I like the paper. Smile Kellie

The Crying Book

by Douglas Henningsen

Open the book. Three simple words strung together, that’s what they are. But under them is a deeper meaning. These three words speak of a gateway to a whirlwind of emotion, adventure, heartache and satisfaction. And that is exactly the gateway I am going to fall through tonight. I climb the ladder to my bunk and sink down into the multitude of blankets and pillows I keep up there. I plump a pillow and lean back on it, pulling the blanket over my legs. There it sits, the long awaited book, nestled on my lap, calling for me to open it up. Well, don’t mind if I do. I rub my hands together and pick up the hardcover novel. I read the cover, savoring the moment, and then I open it to the first page.

The chapter begins, and with it the movie. The book swallows me whole and poof, there I am, right in the story. I walk around the characters as the chapter runs to a close, then follow them as another starts. Excitement blossoms in my chest and anticipation clutches at my heart. The characters are struggling, I try to help, but they can’t hear me. My heart pounds, emotion floods my senses. I’m nervous and scared. Everything is balanced on the edge of a knife, and that knife is flying straight for my face. I keep reading. Love and pain speed by me, spreading their fingers and brushing delicately over my heart, spreading their emotions before they are gone. It’s over, but it’s not. I reach behind me and pull out the next book. I glance at the clock, 9:30, before plunging back into a world I so desperately want to survive.

The video starts again. The climax of the book is coming, the story that was woven through so many books is about to end. Everything hangs in the balance. The clock hits 10:00, but I keep reading. The final scene, the great story is almost over. My white knuckles clutch the book, making nervous indentations on the paper. Then someone dies. With tears in my eyes I flip the page; it’s not supposed to end this way. I can feel her brother’s pain; it burns my heart, the same heart that has been tossed aboard a fragile dory in a wild sea of emotion. I can’t take much more. Sorrow invades my heart cloaking it in a dark shadow of sadness. The smooth paper flips by my face, wiping a tear away from my eye, I keep reading.

The fight rages on, the battle of good and evil, I can feel the rage of war in my heart, my poor, battered heart. It’s over. Good has triumphed, evil is defeated. A tear runs down my face as I close the book, falling onto the hard back. The tear trickles to the edge of the back, and it almost looks like the book is crying with me. I go to wipe the tear away but my hand stops before it touches the back, then I pull it back to my side. I leave the tear to dry, a glistening trail of water that tells of the emotion packed inside of the cover. I look at the clock, 11:00, time for bed. I reverently lay the book down, and turn off my light. I lie back against my pillow, and close my eyes.

There it is, the book, it’s still with me, playing over and over in my head. But this time it’s ok. This time I know how it ends. This time I don’t have to be afraid. This time the pain doesn’t dig as deep. I drop out of consciousness, and open the cover.

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Friday Freewrite: Leafy Experience

Friday Freewrite

Raking them, jumping into them, collecting them. Describe an experience involving leaves. Go!

New to freewriting? Check out our online guide.

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Getting out of debt

Sunset SilhouetteImage by Chris Metcalf

At the recent BW workshop in Richmond, one of the repeated discussion points that surfaced during private conversations with participants was this: fear—fear of failing, fear of not doing it right or enough, fear that mistakes irrevocable were being made or had been made.

This fear catalyzes a frantic search outside of self to find the right tool, or the right co-op, or the right program, or the right philosophy to lead your family. Yet the resources for a rich, vibrant homeschool live inside of you – they don’t live in a book or a course or an expert.

The best education your children will receive is the one offered to them by a grounded, caring, attentive, flexible parent—who is growing right alongside the child, making micro adjustments from a place of some confidence (confidence that is also expanding, not static, sometimes not present, but always evolving).

About four years ago, I went through a significant reevaluation of my life. This is typical forties stuff (developmental stage of growth in adulthood, really). In that time, I reflected a lot on what constituted “well-being.” I wanted it for me, I wanted it for my family.

After the discussions at the workshop, I thought these notes from that time might be of some use to any/all of you. Let me know what you think:

I think of my well-being as knowing what it takes to feel right-side up with the world—where my thoughts, feelings, and beliefs are accessible to me, and I can express them without anxiety. It means ensuring that the space I live in is one that supports that self-expression. It means living a life where I’m not lying or hiding for self-protection. It means not depending on someone else to create that space for me, nor spending my energy trying to ensure that space for someone else.

It seems to me that we aren’t really giving of ourselves when we set aside our well-being for someone else’s. We’re protecting ourselves from pain (the painful realization that we aren’t needed, or don’t match someone else’s expectations, or can’t bring happiness or learning; or to cover our own feelings of dislocation and not belonging). We aren’t protecting ourselves from mistreatment or abuse, either, since love never covers that multitude of sins. Only good fences and a fierce loyalty to your well-being can stop the force of control and anger aimed at you (whether that comes from inside – self-critical voices, or outside – family members, discussion boards, “friends,” or reading material).

Truth is, you can only give if there’s something in the tank to give away. No program gives itself. No philosophy governs your home apart from your embracing of it, and growing in it. You can’t implement or lead if you are unsteady and anxious, if you hide who you are to remain a member of a group.

If you go into debt to yourself (not attending to your anxieties or fears), some day your soul will come to collect. “You can’t cheat the dark gods.” The price can be high, depending how deep the debt. You wouldn’t go into debt to give to a charity, and so you shouldn’t go into soul debt in order to love others. That expression will be unique to your family, looking like the personality of who you are and no one else.

If we safeguard our well-being, gently protecting it like you would your grandmother’s nicest china dessert dish, you’ll be able to give to others because your spirit will be in good shape, ready and able to be the platter from which love is served.

I didn’t know this, for my whole life. So I was way in debt. I’ve been paying it off slowly for several years now, looking at overdue bills and figuring out how to settle accounts with myself.

It takes some courage to be honest about how things really are in your family and homeschool. But that’s okay. You can go slowly, make space for yourself to heal or expand, and to be present to the ones you love as you do.

Go forth and be well. You and your family deserve your well-being.

Cross-posted on facebook.

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