Now that you have taken the time to go through all of your closets, and attics and basements and anywhere else you could find items for your Bio Book Bags, what does this collection say about you as a reader? As a writer?
Choose one of the items from your bag and do a quick write on it...right here on the computer...right NOW! This is not something you have to draft and revise, just let your thoughts flow as you explore the corners of your mind to discover how this item influenced you and who you are today in terms of attitude, your teaching, your likes and dislikes. Have some fun with this. Here is mine as a model.
My Winnie the Pooh cookbook makes me think of my Nana. Nana was the one person in my life who really saw me as her "favorite". How do I know this? I know this because of the way I felt when I was with her. She listened to me and really heard what I was saying about what I liked and what I didn't like. Her gifts, which include this cookbook and my Raggedy Ann and Andy chalk board, were gifts that "showed" how she knew me in a way nobody else seemed to. Somehow she knew that I loved to bake and that this cookbook would be something I would always treasure.
The chalkboard was something that validated my desire to one day be a teacher, but it was even more than that because at that time in my life I was an avid collector of Raggedy Ann and Andy. Anything with Raggedies on them...I HAD to have!
It was not just the gifts, but the fact that she really listened to me and would take the time to hear what I had to say. This meant the world to me and now that I think about it, that is one of the things that I carry with me as an educator...a teacher...a mom. To listen, to really listen when someone is talking shows that they matter. It shows that their thinking, their thoughts, and their ideas count. Yes, that is what my Nana showed me. She showed me the power of someone hearing you out and truly listening to what is in your heart.
That is my quick write. Notice how I get "off track" a little bit. THAT is what a quick write is! Just start writing and see where it takes you. I had NO idea that was where I was going. Quick writes ask us to follow our stream of consciousness...to make connections where there might have been none. It is a way for us to discover what it is that we did not know before.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
21 comments:
The weekend following our fist class, I drove “home” to NY to visit my family. Excited about her new grandchild on the way, my mom has started to search through all of my old baby things… ( This must be a mom thing, because Matt’s mom has done the SAME thing!) It was quite coincidental to have a large box of my childhood books sitting in the family room of my mom’s house. PERFECT for my bio book bag! I sat with my mom as we picked though the mildew smelling box and reminisced—it was really a nice moment that I won’t forget. Each book reminded me of something different, but there was one book “The Little Old Man” that really brought me back to my childhood. Even as a child, this book reminded me of my grandfather “Poppi”—my mom’s father. As my mom and I sat there, my mom reminded me that as a child, I loved listening to this book, because it reminded me of Poppi. The little old man in the book looked just like him—a jolly smile, bald head with tufts of silver hair just in the bottom… The story is adorable—a little old man lives all alone on an island—lonely. He dreams of having a cat… then one day, his little house gets swept up by the sea… days later an abandoned boat lands on his island… what do you know?—it is a beautiful new home and has a mother cat with four kittens… the man was never lonely again. Looking back on the story now, I laugh at how “perfect” it is…. The man had troubles… and before he knew it they were all solved and his dreams came true. Such a happy ending… maybe that’s another reason I loved it so much as a child. Who doesn’t love a happy ending?
Our trip across country was a wonderful memory that was brought about by this experience of creating my Bio Book Bag. As I was trying to organize my thoughts and ideas about who I am today as a reader and writer I found myself not only looking through old books and collections but also looking through old memory boxes and pictures that I have collected over the years. As I was rummaging through an old photo box, I came across a picture of me with my dad and sister standing over the Grand Canyon. As I studied the picture, a gush of memories came back to me about that day and the many days leading up to that moment spent in our van driving from California to New Hampshire. An exciting (I say this with sarcasm at times) experience it was spending long hour less days in the car, stopping for food, hotels, and sights along the way. However, it was this trip in its entirety that really allowed me to sit back and realize that I could enjoy reading for just that...reading. I could escape in the mysteries of my Goosebump books from the long, drawn out and endless hours in the cramped space that became our home for those 2 weeks. It was during this trip, and the never ending collection of Goosebump books that I acquired along the way, that I really began to understand that reading could be something fun and could be done for pleasure...not just something that had to be done. This is something that still affects me to this day. I want to instill this same idea into the students in my classroom. I want that light bulb to click on, or that series to be discovered that allows them to really enjoy reading, escape in a book and be able to experience the same excitement that I get when opening up a book.
One of the most important things from my bio bag, would be my mother's collection of poems. Growing up, writing was many things in our family. It "put food on our table"----as our parents were both reporters for the Lawrence Eagle Tribune. It meant having your father sit in church with a brown steno pad writing down the Monsignor's ranting for more fuel bill money. It meant that people would ring the doorbell all night long to deliver their important local news( bowling scores and the Women's Club bake sale). We were the first to know when school was cancelled, and when it was our birthday---even that made the news. Growing up in our house, you could not help but me interested in the power of words. Our mother took her reporting to the next level---she used the beauty of language to describe the anguish of President Kennedy being assasinated, and the glory of the Apollo astronauts planting the US flag in the moon. Mum could write on demand. One time during my college days, I was home during the weekend when I told her I needed to write a children's book. During a Mary Tyler Moore commercial she dictated faster than I could write, the words for a counting book about elephants, called "Ten Tons of Trunks." It wasn't all about her, tho...she encouraged us...we moved to a new (old) house when I was five.....and all my writings, (scribbles on newspaper "copy paper" were allowed to be packed and brought along. Our mother amazed us when even during her last year with us, at the age of 85 she could recite poetry from her days at St. Patrick's School. Thanks for reading this...I am grateful for my mother, Rita Roberge Wefers.
My Bio Bag had 2 separate pieces that I hold near and dear to my heart. The first were the poetry collections written by my mother. These books forevermore are a link to my Mom. I read and reread them, making connections to her and to her memory. Her voice can be easily heard in her poems, from her love of all things connected to the Kennedy era, and the tragic loss and pain of a nation in mourniing, to the amusing poems filled with anecdotes about beloved family members. Secondly, my birthday letter from Shaun with all 56, YES 56 "Remember When's" the passion for the magic of the written word has been handed down thru our generations. They are memories of our history that can be treasured over and over again. I loved the bio bag activity and enjoyed the glimpse into my classmate lives. Nancy
testing123
sorry about the testing ok
My bio bag had 2 separate pieces that were precious to my heart. The first was the collection of poetry written by my dear Mother. These books are forevermore a link to my past. I read and reread them, and by doing that I can feel the memory of her. Her voice can be heard in her many poems, from the ones involving her love of the Kennedy's and the Camelot ere, to the amusing musings of each family member. When I miss her, I pull out the poems and enjoy her words. Secondly, my birthday letter from Shaun, with all 56, YES 56 Remember When's" that I enjoy over and over again. The passion for the written word has indeed passed down through the generations and the writings are special and indeed treasured. I loved the Bio Bag activity, I enjoyed the brief glimpse into my classmate lives. Nancy
Sorry about all the posts I did mention I was afraid I wouldn't get on again, again SORRY!!Nancy
Surveying the various items in the bag, I saw that all of my choices linked to many of my passions in life: my family, history, heritage, and teaching to name a few. The "American Heritage History of the United States"in particular started me on my various journeys to the past. My mother would by a book every week from the supermarket and I would read them from cover to cover. I remember my third grade field trips to Concord Bridge and Plimouth Plantation. As a child. my family would go to the North End of Boston to attend the "Feast of St. Anthony". Taking in the sights and sounds, my siblings would wonder about pizza and I would be wondering if Paul Revere walked where I was walking. Eventually as an adult, I had the opportunity to work at the American Independence Museum in Exeter where I could share my passion for the Revolutionary period with others. That was a fun filled nine years for me. The other book, "Island of the Swans" by Ciji Ware is historical fiction set in Scotland which linked my love of history and heritage. That book moved me to the path of exploration into my Scottish heritage. That interest held a recent surprise of meeting family I had never met before. My mother is a reader who always saw to it that we had books of all types. I am so grateful she bought the supermarket book of the week. The contents alsways kept me wondering.
One of my books in my bag was Young Years - Best Loved Stories and Poems for Little Children. This book means alot to me now mostly because I have children to read it to. My mom would read to me from this book all the time. I loved to hear her voice and she had such a way to read the poems and stories. I would ask her to read the same ones over and over again. Now that I have my own children I get the book off the shelf and read to them. My oldest gets excited becasue the book is so thick and she thinks we are going to read it cover to cover in one sitting. She loves books being read to her well Travis my 2yr. old if I can get him to sit for one page I am thankful. I do feel bad sometimes because I do keep the book on a shelf high so they can only use it with me or if I am in the room. I guess this is because it is one thing I actually have from my younger years. I hope to pass this book on to my children. I hope my kids continue the love of reading.
I've never thought of myself as much of a reader, but more of a writer I guess. My 5th grade teacher said I was good at it. She saved me from dismissing the written word altogether since my 4th grade experience with Lippincott basal readers and the equally as deadly, skill and drill workbook, all but killed my love of books. Even now I'll only read fiction if it's highly recommended by a friend. I'm quite sure the use of quality literature in my classroom vs.basal readers was fueled by this early experience. I never wanted another child to lose the love of reading like I had. The only thread that kept me attached to the glory of the written word was the poetry books given as gifts from my mother. Also,she was a known for her volumes of travel journals and this chronicling tradition of travails and travels continued throughout my childhood extending to my oldest daughter who loves to do the same. Passing along the love of words as a mother and a teacher keeps me connected to my past and the future.
My mom always had a passion for reading. At preschool age, she'd devour the Prince Valiant comics then assume the role of the princess (My Uncle Jimmy was the prince and my Aunt Nancy, who was 9years younger, was relegated to being "the people") Reading was her salvation when she was hospitalized for a year, 3 times, in her young life. Books were very meaningful to her, so she made sure they were special to me. As time progressed, she made reading a bright light for her grandkids. That's how Handy Hank Will Fix IT by Anne F. Rockwell came into our home. After hearing it mentioned on one of those morning shows, she trooped out to purchase it. As was the ritual, Nana was the first to read it to 4-year-old Ty. He loved it. It was immediately incorporated into our PM sleepy time routine (read a book, sing a song, say prayers) for OVER 3 MONTHS. During that time period Ty learned the term "abbreviated version." He also learned to retell the story using the pictures. I did anything I could to get out of reading THAT BOOK again. As all things do "Handy Hank" fell from favor and life moved on. When bio bag time came I wanted something to represent my son. What better book than "Hank." As I was pulling it off the shelf to bag, my now 23-year-old Ty appeared behind me, mouth smiling, eyes glazed over with memories. "I loved that book," he said. WOW! Thanks, Mom.
On my bio bag sheet many of you made comments about my little green diary. Someone even asked, "How could you keep it for five years?" The truth is I didn't. I had always dreamed of going to Europe and told my fiancee,now husband of thirty-six years,that I couldn't get married until I had. What would be better than to experience it together and so a loose itinerary was planned for a three week honeymoon. This was by no means going to be a luxury vacation. We would travel by train, and stay at pensiones. Instead of using the little money we had to buy furniture for an apartment, we set off for new adventures which would be chronicled in yes, my little green diary. I can't tell you how much I treasure my scribbly notes about all the wonderful and funny incidents we had and there were many! I always thought it would make a great comedy starring the late Peter Sellers.
I really didn't like to read when I was younger...some of my experiences with the SRA in the 3rd grade left a mark, traumatizing if you will. I think I was in the lower group, but I was so competititive I learned how to fake read from that point in time in order to get done...not first...but certainly respectable...did I have a clue of what I read (not so much). It wasn't until high school that I started to settle in and enjoy reading a little more and then I stopped fake reading. I was out of college before I really started reading for "pleasure." I enjoy reading now, but hated it growing up...I don't believe anyone told us we were "good readers" or said this is what "good readers do." Jenny and Darcee were good readers and we all knew it and were told it...so what did that make us? The lasting impressions of our youth.
With all the memorable books in my biobag to draw from, I kept coming back to the "car repair list". The more I thought about it, the more I realized how many memories it held.
As I approached high school graduation, my dad decided to buy me a car. Money was tight and whatever college I went to in 2 years would be within commuting distance, at least for a year. When it arrived, via tow truck, I was both elated and discouraged - it was '65 Mustang convertible!, but it needed a LOT of work. It came from the junk yard. Dad is an old Yankee, very resourceful, and can create anything from nothing. I learned quickly to have faith and trust his abilities. For a year and a half I worked side by side with Dad on that car, learning how to grease, lube, change the tires and oil, and even fix the carburator valve when it got stuck - which it did often. A great deal of bonding took place under the hood of that beloved car. Dad now remodels Model T's, and the first place we go when I'm back home is his garage workshop to check on his current project. As for the list, that was Mom's doing. She often worked with us as well, but made sure that all parts were accounted for and that we kept within a budget. (she still does this) Between the two of them I learned about faith, trust, optimism, patience, determination, ingenuity, and yes, accounting - all qualities and skills that make me the person I am today.
Looking at the contents of my bio bag, I treasuer the pencil box my grandmother got for me for the first day of school many years ago. It is still in good condition and holds the letters I received from my cousins and Irish pen pal. The letters go on and on for many years. I have enjoyed rereading them and thinking back to what was happening in my life at that time of my life. The hot topics of conversation are basketball camp, boys, Florida, skiing, Michael Jackson, pets and school. I can't believe I still have this box filled with letters! I stopped writing to Carmel Long many years ago but think it would have been neat to have met up with her on my trip to Ireland. Maybe next time. Who knows where she could be now?
Like Anna, I never really enjoyed reading in school during my younger years. I did enjoy reading "mystery" books but I don't recall any specific titles. My only real memory of "reading" in school is the SRA box. I too was (secretly) competitive and when I saw on my report card that I was only "On Grade Level," I was determined to reach "Above Grade Level" status! I can clearly recall reaching the color "Aqua" in the SRA box. I enjoyed doing the activities but only because I felt like I was moving up. In high school at little Presentation of Mary Academy (52 girls in my graduating class...including Maura (Sullivan) Palmer)...I was blessed to have Sr. Virginia my sophomore year. She brought stories to life and would read a loud to us. I can clearly hear her doing the voice of "Lenny" from "Of Mice and Men." Unfortunately, like the poem Tomasen shared with us the first class, I can't even recall the plot of the story now, I just remember I loved it. Now my own daughter just read "Of Mice and Men" for her 10th grade English class and she loved it too! I plan of reading the book again soon. My favorite book of all time, however, was from that same class "The Novel" with Sister Virginia and that is "To Kill a Mockingbird." I have read that story several times and had my daughter read it a couple of years ago. I think because I've discussed the book with others that it has stuck with me.
Too many choices, just too many choices...that in and of itself probably describes the saver in me, born of a strong Canadian woman who loves to throw things away. One piece of paper in my bio bag that probably means the most, and certainly was the most read is the note from the foster Mom who had our Jonathan the first 7 1/2 months of his life. Each day, looking at our miracle baby boy, I'd read her note and was attached to each word. I read it in the morning, noon and night when he slept. My connection to this wonderful woman was of a sincere gratitude...we couldn't meet or contact her. But I loved her for loving my boy. I cherished her kindnesses in recording the hallmarks in his young life, knowing how important it would be to the lucky woman getting such a beautiful baby, me. The poem that was just as important as the note was
Not flesh of my flesh,
Nor bone of my bone,
But still miraculously my own. Never forget for a minute,
That you didn't grow under my heart, but in it.
I love all of your heart-warming stories! The book that holds one of the strongest memories for me from my bio bag is "The Greedy Triangle." I read this book on 9/11 to my first grade class. As teachers, we had all heard about the terrible events that were unfolding in our beloved country. The children were in the blissful state of the uniformed. I sat down to read this book for a lesson on shapes and came to the part where the triangle asks for one more side and becomes a pentagon. When I read this page today, I can still feel the emotion course through my body. I also still get goosebumps. But I do treasure all of these feelings because I know I will not forget the impact that one day can have in your life.
As I took my stroll down memory lane, I came to the realization that I have always enjoyed expressing myself through writing. I came across over ten journals from my childhood (starting at the age of 7) until the present. Although the beginning entries were simplistic, I was still able to reflect one my day, good or bad, rather than report. I found that as I entered middle school, I wrote more frequently and with greater detail. This is something that continued even as an adult.
The first journal I received was from my mother. My father and mother were going on vacation and I was to spend time with my grandma far away from my safety net, my home. Being scared and apprehensive, I accepted the gift with my mother’s condition that I write in it everyday. That way I would be able to keep my thoughts…I guess I ended up years worth of thoughts.
I notice that as a teacher, I have my students write in a journal daily. I personally think this is important. This is not only a way for me to assess but also a way for my students to understand that writing is a form of communication rather then letters to make lists of words. It is a way to show them that words convey meaning and they have important meaning to share, even as first graders. We often share our thoughts through writing. To me, doing this activity daily allows my students to build on skills that we learn in class, but most importantly to realize the expression of our thoughts.
The one item from my bio bag that I treasure the most is a poem about drinking. When I was a little kid I would spend a lot of time down the Cape at my grandparents' house. My grandfather had this poem on his dresser. I would spend lots of time reading the poem. I liked the sound of the words. The line that goes Cavil and Rant you prudes who will of the evils of wine and gin, was my favorite. I liked how it rolled of the tongue. I don't know why my grandfather had the poem in his room or even where he got it. When he had to go into a nursing home the one item I knew that I wanted was the poem. I treasure the poem for all of the great memories it brings with it. I now keep it on my bureau. By the way, when I got a little older I did understand the meaning of the poem and it does speak the truth.
Since you girls just reviewed my bio bag Thursday, my comment is a bit late...I enjoyed reading the comments about my bag. I wish I was there to hear all about yours. :D
Post a Comment