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The Art of Crafting a Letter

Thanksletter
The potential of the letter is expansive. Its form is deftly suited for all occasions.

Letters bridge.

Letters are common ground.

Letters are a gift.

But our slapdash digitalized pace has fashioned handcrafted letters out of style.

Let’s face it. Letters are a gift we scarcely know how to handle.

As a writing mentor I’m at odds with the pervasive mechanistic approach to writing that cultivates dread and squelches the writer’s voice.

The work of writing is first and foremost an art form. I want my apprentices to marvel at the potential of language to transcend communication.

Words, crafted well, echo in the heart.

I am always seeking new ways to engage young writers with the finer of art of crafting words, making every effort to inspire through writing meaningful exercises. My goal is to cultivate curiosity and motivate young writers to engage in the complex process of writing that will produce something that echoes their heart. When young writers are empowered that their ideas are meaningful, they raise an authentic voice. Grammar and mechanics are secondary to voice.

I’ve come to discover in my own process as a writer and, after twenty years of mentoring, that writers who value their voice will not only focus on the difficult work of unpacking the rules of writing—grammar and mechanics—but will also integrate and apply that work. 

Might the art of letter writing be revived?

This said and the Thanksgiving season upon us, I’m giving my writing apprentices a gift that I want to share with you, a gift in the form of a challenge:

This week, craft a letter of Thanksgiving. This week give words.

Here are some tips that will help your writing apprentices get started: 

1. Riff on another writer’s work.

To begin the Thanksgiving letter, encourage writers to begin by listing some facts about Thanksgiving. Next, read Abe Lincoln’s 1863 Thanksgiving Proclamation. Think about these words being written in the midst of Civil War. How are these words relevant in 21st Century America? Now have them read Lincoln’s first sentence closely. Instruct writers to use Lincoln’s quote at the start of the letter and to do the work of translating the sentence, “I think Abe Lincoln meant ___________.”  Finally, challenge the writers to use the phrases “blessings of the fruitful fields” and “healthful skies” to create a personal metaphor of thanksgiving. What might they represent in the apprentice’s world? Riffing on the work of a master mentor such as Abe Lincoln promotes specificity of language, here, the fruit will take the form of gratitude. 

“The year that is drawing towards its close has been filled with the blessings of fruitful fields and healthful skies.” – Abe Lincoln

2. Utilize parallel writing.

Begin with an interesting quote:

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.” – Henry David Thoreau

Find a pattern and craft a sentence of your own your own:

I would rather _________________________ than _________________.

I would rather consider the diversity in a pile of freshly raked fall leaves than wander aimlessly in a grumble of boredom.

3. Make your letter beautiful.

Writing is a process that begins with an idea.

Ideas must be forged to words on a page.

Never skip steps.

Rough drafts matter!

But once your drafting is done, once every word is as it should be, then (and only then) dive into the work of making your words shine on the page. Writing is gift and a gift is never wrapped until it is complete.

Once upon a time writers were apprenticed in the art of handwriting, were compelled to practice the basic shapes and orientation of letterforms. Once, writers were required to master a script, establish a hand—slant and flourish—one that was both legible and lovely. Now, there is not much value placed on this work.

Must the art of handwriting become yet another artisanal extracurricular? Engaging in the process of beautifying forces the young writer slow down to focus on words and phrases in a way that typing can’t, promotes the self-edit to a whole new level. I ask my apprentices often, “Isn’t a handwritten document more precious than a computer generated one?”

– Kim

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Connect the Dots: Craft a Letter

 

 

What do the circulatory system, WW1, the life-cycle of a star, Samuel Adams, great characters from exceptional stories, and a single spring from the workings of an ink pen have in common?

Why human potential, of course.

Interdisciplinary endeavors provide the grand opportunity to perch students high above the realm of facts and mechanics, inspiring them to weave connections across disciplinary boundaries as they reflect on common themes, symbols, and purpose.

What better way to fortify learning?

An interdisciplinary endeavor challenges students to weave new knowledge to what is previously known. Challenges students to assemble and construct as they learn ignite curiosity.

And so letter writing is a tradition in my writing workshops. Letters crafted by hand. From the pencil markings scratched on paper to polished draft. The kind that take nearly an hour to read, to seep in and savor. Letter writing empowers student writers to share the connections they are making. Interdisciplinary connections. Connections at the intersection of acuity, creativity, and and ingenuity. But most important, engaging in the art of letter writing demands authenticity. Letter writing requires writers to raise their voice.

This year, letter writing at the Guild coincided with a wonderful Miss Lori (our Historian in Residence) lesson. When introducing students to The Committees of Correspondence, she first asked for a definition of the word correspondence and was met with the chirp of crickets. Not one could conjure a working definition.

“What does it mean to correspond?”

Crickets.

I imagine she stopped for a bit of word study before proceeding: “To correspond is to communicate by exchange of letters. Correspondence is a letter or letters that passes between correspondents (the letter writers).”

“Ohhhhhhhhhh!”

This set the stage for Miss Lori to continue, “The American Revolution would have never succeeded if it weren’t for letter writing.”

Think Samuel Adams. Back in 1772, he organized a network of letter writing—The Committees of Correspondence—to keep colonists informed of British actions against the colonies, and to plan a concerted response. Letter writing united the 13 colonies and girded their loins for revolution.

Letter writing is a terrific domain to teach a writing truism: one idea leads to another. And when it does the reader is engaged, intrigued, mesmerized.

At the Guild, letter writing exercises are a grand opportunity to inspire young writers to connect the dots, dots that they might not have imagined could be connected. And as the correspondents weave this disparate knowledge to one, they bring permanence, relevance, and significance to what is learned.

Trust me, it requires courage to weave the circulatory system, WW1, the life-cycle of a star, Samuel Adams, great characters from exceptional stories, and a single spring from the workings of an ink pen to a cohesive letter of consequence. But the task is worth the effort. So pull out some paper, think about this past year’s learning, connect the dots.

Letter writing is kindly, generous, revolutionary.

 

-Kim

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Courage is a Gift

complete second grade language arts

What better way to learn about courage than from a character in a book!

Our Earlybird Winter Literature and Writing and Discovery Guide features Brave Irene by William Steig. Irene demonstrates love and courage by helping her sick mother in the dead of winter deliver an important package.

We love stories that highlight girl heroines! For more on this theme, a fun read aloud might be Elizabeth Blackwell: Girl Doctor (Childhood of famous Americans).

Keep the conversation going. What does it mean to be brave?

 

-Sara

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Ideas of the Original Variety

Taxonomy4

I've had the privilege of exploring his architectural scaffolding—Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species—with my apprentices during Science Discovery. 

There are four types of sentences: Statement, Question, Exclamation, and Command. Teachers are famous for jotting that last type—command—in swarms on their chalkboards.

But imagine your science teacher marching into class and scribbling this on the chalkboard:

Devise a system for naming and classifying ALL living things. 

Imagine the buggy eyes, the tilted heads, the groans, the tears.

Never happen.

Now imagine a time way before the technological advances that our computer age has to offer. Way, way back before our Declaration of Independence was conceived in the minds of Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin there was a young man named Carolus Linnaeus. Born on May 23, 1707, in Råshult, Sweden, his father, a lover of all things botanical, introduced him to the joy of observational science. Young Carolus was encouraged to imagine possibility as he tended his very own garden over time. He looked back fondly on that garden as a place that "inflamed my soul with an unquenchable love of plants."

As Linnaeus continued to observe nature, he developed a passion for order.  Over the course of his life, Linnaeus accomplished a great many things—research, publication of scientific papers, a medical practice. Greatest of all, he devised a binomial system for naming and classifying all living things… without the prompting of a teacher's command!

Way before computers, Linnaeus was an information architect.

Discover_Research2

It's taken the better part of the year to appropriate the great lessons we chip away at on a daily basis—value silence, process is a slow and steady pacing, your-ideas-matter, work works—but now, like a spring bloom, I marvel at the fragrance of their progress. In a few short weeks, you too will be able to flip through the Science Discovery Journals to experience the wonder of this important work.

So much of education is couched in the promise that technology will ensure success. But so much of what we really desire for our children cannot develop without the passion to care about an academic work at hand and the longitude to explore. Challenging children to engage in the work of idea-making and providing the time to Discover just what it takes to bring shape to that idea, time and time again, leads to Critical Creative Thinking. Truth is, technology is a tremendous asset of our age, but the art of learning is a low-tech endeavor.

Ideas of the original variety begin with a spark of curiosity, not a command, and rarely a click.

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Creative Writing and The Periodic Table

Table
Paper

A few days ago Søren shared an idea, “am going to write a story using all the letters on the periodic table.”

What in the world? After a summer of focusing on the garden—tilling earth, planting seeds, and harvesting fruit—the periodic table of the elements? But in the end, I realized that Søren’s idea has everything to do with the garden.

Last year I taught chemistry in my guild to a handful of high school students. We read The Periodic Kingdom, and “journeyed through the land of chemical elements” with P.W. Atkins. We watched the periodic table. Yes, watched. This was mad science in action. Chemists from the University of Nottingham have created a short video about each of the 118 elements. Stoichiometry, polarity, and biochemistry entered our discussion, and we concocted reactions in our little make-shift lab, extracted DNA from a variety of sources. But our explorations of the table itself was most amazing. And where was Søren? The little hovering bird was gathering seeds, of course.

So this morning, I woke up, hobbled sleepily into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and saw our favorite coffee table acquisition from the chemistry class: The Elements: A Visual Exploration of Every Known Atom in the Universe, on the table along with a writer’s toolkit—pen, paper, dictionary.

Søren had an idea and was brave enough to engage the work, even during the last week of summer.

Thanks Leonardo.