It is hard not to feel overwhelmed in December. The holidays are fast approaching, my responsibilities mounting--papers to read, portfolios to grade. Meanwhile the weather vacillates from moderate to frigid. We had a snow day last week--precious day in the middle of the week that allowed me to read journals and grade papers. The wind whispers through the naked branches. What little sun there is offers no warmth. This is the time of year when we need to gather in--hold dear ones close and write letters to those who are afar. My definition of family has changed through the years. I am grateful for the ability to redefine that which is most important to me--my evolving and creative adult children (odd phrase, that one...) and my life partner who is also my closest friend and confidante. Friends also add warmth and meaning to my life.
The writing is there too--beckoning me to see life as words on a page. I taught metaphors to second graders and villanelles to high school students in the same week. The moon was a banana, a button, a sliver of cheese. The villanelles were haunting--mythic and personal. I see words swirling around the room and students struggling to catch them. When we read, it's as if each student is able to find something in memory or perception that solidifies his or her truth. I'm a witness to this awakening on a weekly basis. It helps me to understand language as a powerful tool. How can I become complacent when I have so many words to choose from?
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Winter words and the words prove the picture ... or does the picture prove the words?
ReplyDeleteAs for the teaching experience, I am sure no teacher could express it as well. Thanks for sharing your images with us.