I shrink in the company of Sarcasm. I’m admittedly deficient, two steps behind when it comes to her volley of shrill phrases. When she enters the building, I chuckle a bit but rarely participate. I acknowledge that, on edge of her spectrum, chatter is light-hearted, friendly. Still, try as I might, I can’t quite squeak a giggle in the midst of her raucous presence.
Recently two students in my guild moved on to explore new education paths. Both students had been part of the guild for many years. My idea was to provide an opportunity for closure by challenging writers to craft a farewell phrase. I decided to incorporate this exercise into our regular writing workshop. What better way to put my “writing is a gift” motto into action?
So we began, “Let’s craft kind words to encourage our friends as they set out on a new adventure.” Sounds simple, right?
As I watched the card I provided move from writer to writer, I anticipated reading the messages before posting them the old fashioned way. But later that day, when I sat down with a cup of tea excited to read the phrases inscribed on the card, my heart sank. There she was, Sarcasm, smirking in all her glory, “Have fun wandering the halls,” and “Happy Easter (jk),” and “Yeah, whatever, thanks for leaving me behind,” and “Life is good (not),” …not a single kind word. There were careless spelling, capitalization, and punctuation errors.
Decibels peaking, Sarcasm crossing over to the caustic zone, I wanted to shrink. At one point in the reading, I wanted to cry. Our guild is not a typical classroom where children come and go annually, most of these children have been learning together for many years. These children are respectful of and grateful for friendship. Still, not a single phrase in the card was crafted vulnerably. What in the world? I knew that this group would really miss their friends who had moved on. I knew this must be something else. Maybe they did not know how to craft vulnerable words.
So instead of shrinking, instead of crying, I stared her in the eye, barked an idiom, “There’s a time and a place.” Sarcasm stomped out of the room and I crafted a writing lesson. It was time to write a poem of gratitude.
I decided to combine three of my writing groups for this activity so that the group included 4th through 8th graders. I began by asking the group to write three things they were thankful for on paper. The words on the list were abstract: family, shelter, and courage. We worked together to communicate abstractions in concrete terms by translating each word to a concrete phrase.
Abstract Concrete
family laughter around the dinner table
shelter nestled near a crackling fire, rain pelting my roof
courage jumping off the high dive
Next, we explored the word itself using a thesaurus—thankful is grateful is appreciative is gratified, is pleased is indebted is glad—and decided that this would be the theme of our poems.
Since every poem needs a title, I told them to begin with a placeholder, “Gratitude.” I reminded my writers, “An analogy is a comparison. Metaphor is implicit, utilizing a direct verb to link to make the comparison. Simile is more emphatic, employing “like” or “as” to imply the comparison,” created a simple form, and set them off writing.
This would be a small, two-stanza poem. The first stanza would employ metaphor. The second stanza would employ simile.
Gratitude
is _____________________________________
is _____________________________________
And I am like _______________________________
And I am like _______________________________
And I am glad.
I gave the writer’s about 15 minutes to craft first drafts and then asked them to read their words aloud. After reading, we brainstormed a title. I began the conversation, “Why do we celebrate Thanksgiving in autumn?”
“Pilgrims!”
“Thanksgiving was a celebration of gratitude.”
“The harvest was plentiful.”
“Thanks were given for native friends who taught the settlers to grow crops of pumpkins and gourds and corn and grain.”
I challenged them to reach into the hat for another analogy, “So if autumn is gratitude, what season is the opposite of gratitude?”
The decision was unanimous, “Winter.”
We brainstormed some more, and the conversation led to the freezer, “Has anyone ever seen freezer burn?” They all had, “And what happens to food that is freezer burned?”
“It is spoiled.”
“Flesh is damaged.”
I interjected, “Maybe freezer burn is the result of ingratitude?”
“Yes, and it’s frosty too.”
In poetry, my students understand that the title is an opportunity to pack one more thought into a small concentrated communication. We decided to craft the title in contrast to the poem of gratitude. We began with a title that personifies winter and suggests a movement in the speaker from one attitude to another, “At the end of Winter’s Frost.” And, in rhetorical tradition, I encouraged them to repeat the title as the first line of the poem.
In providing a simple opportunity for my student writers to practice communicating gratitude, we painted an image of Sarcasm’s icy fruit. Life lessons emerge when writing is centered on communicating.
Kind words are a not archaic.
And I am glad.
– Kim
At the End of Winter’s Frost
At the end of winter’s frost,
is a deer waltzing in forest,
is an ocean wave swishing.
And I am like a cloud as brilliant as an angel.
And I am like the tulips swaying in the gust of wind.
And I am glad.
-Vanessa
At the end of winter’s frost,
is forgetting a bad memory,
is snow being shoveled off my car.
And I am like a fully ripened peach.
And I am like a tall green blade of grass.
And I am glad.
-Matthew
At the end of winter’s frost,
is me building a snowman,
is flowers blooming and breaking free.
And I am like Jack Frost dissolving away.
And I am like a frozen lake melting away.
And I am glad.
-Trinity
At the end of winter’s frost,
is a splash of rain,
is a redwood swaying.
And I am like a vast forest.
And I am like a gust of wind.
And I am glad.
-Moriah
At the end of winter’s frost,
is brilliant fireflies glowing,
is gusting air stroking grass.
And I am like a fierce lion stalking its prey.
And I am like sunrise after a rainy night.
And I am glad.
-Chase
At the end of winter’s frost,
is the swirling ocean,
is blazing flame.
And I am like a fish twisting through kelp.
And I am like the clouds whispering in the wind.
And I am glad.
-Tiffany
At the end of winter’s frost,
is the blooming of a daisy,
is parting the Red Sea.
And I am like the buzz of bees.
And I am like clouds reveling sun.
And I am glad.
-Taylor
At the end of winter’s frost,
is unwinding sipping hot cider,
is closing my eyes waiting for another day.
And I am like the sun going down.
And I am like a bear in hibernation.
And I am glad.
-Miles
At the end of winter’s frost,
is stars turning in sky,
is icicles never melting,
is a downy nest.
And I am like leaves rustling in a thicket.
And I am like the crescent moon scooping up the sky.
And I am like a flower that never let’s go of its petals.
And I am glad.
-Marlo
At the end of winter’s frost,
is a silent whisper of love,
is a smile frozen on my face,
is a block of ice eager to melt faster.
And I am like a welcome sign.
And I am like a dog eating a tasty treat.
And I am glad.
-Mikayla
At the end of winter’s frost,
is a bear cub crawling out of his cozy cave,
is a wet flowers blossoming.
And I am like crops growing on farmer’s fields.
And I am like an apple tree letting children climb.
And I am glad.
-Veronica
At the end of winter’s frost,
is the sun showing its face,
is the beginning of play.
And I am like ice melting off a coated roof.
And I am like a butterfly that has completed his journey.
And I am glad.
-Liam
At the end of winter’s frost,
is a book that opens the gateway to adventure,
is an ocean of ideas waiting to be actualized.
And I am like a book with unread pages.
And I am like an undefined word.
And I am glad.
-Isaiah
At the end of winter’s frost,
is snow melting off my face,
is a brother pushing his sister on a swing.
And I am like a flower blooming.
And I am like the sun shining.
And I am glad.
-Lizzy
At the end of winter’s frost,
is resting my eyes on yellow and blue,
is listening to music explore a tune.
And I am like spring leaves growing.
And I am like chirping birds.
And I am glad.
-Søren
At the end of winter’s frost,
is clothes that keep me warm,
is a bear that shelters its cub.
And I am like a bug that stays strong.
And I am like a house that shelters.
And I am glad.
-Raymond
At the end of winter’s frost,
is yellow leaves swirling,
is sleepy sloths singing,
is sun rays swirling.
And I am like a palm tree swaying.
And I am like a crystal pool.
And I am glad.
-Cherish
At the end of winter’s frost,
is the bird’s chirp for worms,
is the fire’s flare for wood.
And I am like a leaf clinging to branch.
And I am like ripples in a pond.
And I am glad.
-Jonathan
At the end of winter’s frost,
is a butterfly flying in a swirl of leaves,
is spring bursting daisies.
And I am like a singing lake.
And I am like rainbows hiding in flowers.
And I am glad.
-Charis
At the end of winter’s frost,
is coffee brewing,
is a baby cooing
is sunrise behind mountain top.
And I am like a soaring sparrow.
And I am like a resting butterfly.
And I am glad.
-Ashley
At the end of winter’s frost,
is a bat soaring,
is a bird hatching from eggshell.
And I am like lapping waves.
And I am like nail piercing wood.
And I am glad.
-Jacquelyn
At the end of winter’s frost,
is baby birds begging for food,
is a gypsy leaf greeting each substance as it tumbles.
And I am like a burbling spring galloping over precipice.
And I am like a silk-skinned stone skipping over the pond’s edge.
And I am glad.
-Sharayah
At the end of winter’s frost,
is a tear and a hug,
is the covers at night,
is fireplace music.
And I am like a breeze.
And I am like the tide.
And I am glad.
-Taylor B.