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Callie Feyen

Sharing Poetry; Even When We Don’t Understand All Of It

in Uncategorized on 22/09/15

In my 7th grade class, we are reading The Wednesday Wars. Holling Hoodhood, the main character, has to stay with his teacher Mrs. Baker on Wednesday afternoons. (This is because he is Presbyterian, and does not have any religious classes to go to like his Catholic and Jewish friends.) They begin to read Shakespeare together, and he gets bit by the bard’s way with words when he reads The Merchant of Venice.  Holling tells his readers that he loves the music of the language so much that he “decided to learn [the words] by heart – even if [he] didn’t know exactly what they meant.” I adore this line. I’m not sure, but I think the words hold a lot of why I teach and read and write. If you love something, why not spend some time with it? Is it OK to share something even if you don’t understand all of it? I hope so.

Holling’s line gave me an idea for the students.  They would memorize a sonnet of their choice written by Shakespeare.

I copied a bunch of sonnets for the students to choose from.  Once they found fourteen lines they could hang out with for a while, they got to work. We would practice three couplets a day, writing one on and index card paired with a little picture on the other side. After that, they would pace around the room whispering words like, “rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,” and, “Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface, In thee thy summer ere thou be distilled.” I think it was time well spent.

Before they left class each day, they wrote down what they learned as best they could.

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They also completed a packet defining words they didn’t know, wrote a few lines telling me what they think their sonnet is about, and drew pictures of Shakepeare’s poetry.

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Last week, they stood in front of the class and recited their sonnet.  I wish I had pictures to  show you, but I don’t think that’d be OK.  However, I hope I gave my students a chance to listen and get caught up in the music that Shakespeare created. Holling Hoodhood is right: it’s enough to give you shivers.

I think I was in 1rst or 2nd grade when I had to memorize Psalm 23 for Sunday School. I remember bouncing a ball on the sidewalk to the time of, “The Lord is my Shepherd.” I remember enjoying the image of God leading me beside still waters. I remember being afraid of walking into dark valleys, but I bounced the ball and continued to memorize the Psalm that promised God was with me all the time.

I was terrified of this line: “The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.” I thought those words meant I was proclaiming that I didn’t want God.  I couldn’t understand why anyone would want me to say that. It wasn’t until 8th grade, when I learned the use of the semicolon, that I was saying, “The Lord is my Shepherd and I shall not want.” I was so relieved.  “Thank God for the semicolon!” I thought.

I didn’t understand the entire Psalm, and probably, if I were to study it now, I would find mysteries in it that wouldn’t be solved with a quick grammar lesson.  But I like the music of the Psalm. I like the imagery. I like the promise.  I will continue to hold onto the words – even if I don’t know exactly what they mean. I hope my students do the same thing with Shakespeare.

{October 7 is Random Acts of Poetry Day.  It’s about painting poetry in the public square, and I think we did that in my classroom last week.  If you’d like to participate, click here for ideas and more information.}

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Hi! I’m Callie. I’m a writer and teacher living in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I write Creative Nonfiction, and in my oldest daughter Hadley’s words, I “use my imagination to add a bit of sparkle to the story.” I’m a contributor for Coffee+Crumbs, Off the Page, Makes You Mom, and Relief Journal. My writing has also been featured on Art House America, Tweetspeak Poetry, Good Letters, and Altarwork, and in 2014 I was one of the cast members of the Listen To Your Mother DC show.

I hold an MFA in Creative Writing from Seattle Pacific University, and I am working on my first book that will be published through TS Poetry Press.

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When I was in fourth grade, I got my front tooth k When I was in fourth grade, I got my front tooth knock out during a baseball game. I was in the dugout, trying to make a butterfly in the dirt with my shoe. The batter, who’d hit not just a home run, but a grand slam, came running in and everyone cheered and so did I because I’d gotten really good at reading cues for when a good thing happens in sports. I even attempted a high five, and somehow I knocked my face into her batting helmet, thus spending the good part of that weekend summer day in the dentist’s office getting a root canal.

No teeth were lost in this latest incident, but I was lost in a bit of imagining on Sunday when I tripped and fell on Packard while running. I look like I’ve been in a bar fight and my shoulder looks similar to how Wesley’s looked after being attacked by an ROUS. 

But I’m going into work today, and when I told my boss I’m nervous about how I look she said, “It’s OK because you have a story,” and if that isn’t the best thing you could ever say to me, I’m not sure what is. 

So, here I am with a story. Thanks to all my friends and family who’ve been so kind and keeping me laughing.
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