Author Archives: sara holbrook

About sara holbrook

Poet/Author/Educator

Listen to the Mocking Bird

“Listen to the Mockingbird” is a song I remember singing in grade school forty years ago growing up in Michigan, not a mockingbird travel destination. Arriving at Kelly’s outside of Leesburg, VA on Friday night around 11:30 PM, I heard mockingbirds for the first time. They are loud – singing their brains out at midnight. Something between a song and a shriek – the punk version of birdsong, they sounded absolutely nothing like the little tune from Mrs. Gustaphson’s class.

Kelly and I took a 2 mile walk, some of it through new areas of construction near their home. Once all this farmland is converted into foundations, walkways, driveways and swimming pools, I wonder what the mockingbirds will have to say about that?


flowers are for picking Posted by Hello

Getting back to basics

Like a weekend at home with Stephanie and Scottie. Katie, their mom lent them to me for Friday night. We went swimming (indoors, it’s still in the 40s in OH), poked around in the garden and rode bikes. And did a little science experiment with leather and static electricity (see pic).

Harding High was my last school this year, and whether the weather has caught up with the calendar or not, I’m ready for summer. Way ready. Past ready. It is good to be back home. I worked a little in the garden where I planted some pansies (my mother’s favorite flower) next to the rock (too big to swallow, small enough to hold in my stomach) that I brought home from my father’s gravesite in Arlington. As I sit here typing, I’m smiling imagining them squabbling out there to one another. Of course their bickering never seemed so amusing when they both were alive.

Home and all its definitions — could fill books. Has. I thought about writing about working in the garden but have decided to declare a personal moratorium on that subject. A seed is supposed to be the original metaphor and writers/poets have about done it to death.

So no writing from the garden.
Well, until something springs from the fertile soil of my mind. An insignificant sprout, new shoots, blossoms to be plucked for closer examination.
bleh.


Truism: Leather sofas make your hair stand up. Posted by Hello

Warren G. Harding High School

This is a big, old school in Warren, OH scheduled for rennovation. It will be cool for the kids to get a new building, but the antique lover in me feels sad that it is going down. It is the kind of building that would withstand centuries. Even the concrete floors in the restrooms are polished like a glossy dinner plate. It has a theater style auditorium and a vast wood and metal shop. Built in the early part of the last century, it is not equipped for the electrical needs of this generation. It was heartening to hear that alums have mobilized to save the facade of the grand ol’ building that will somehow be attached to the new design. I met with classes in the library where we talked about how poetry could be significant in their lives.

Driving to the school down back roads I passed through Amish Country, at one point turning off the radio and opening the windows to smell the country air. It is a proven fact that you can smell better when the radio is off. Wonder why that is.


Warren G. Harding High School Posted by Hello

Bloomsburg University Reading Conference

This is a healthy, well-planned conference on the green, rolling campus of Bloomsburg State University. Lots of selections for teachers of kids of all ages.

Separate from my two presentations, I had three extensive conversations with teachers — all on the topic of assessment and guided writing. (is there such a thing? I know there is guided reading. . .).

1. How do you guide a student into finding the poetry in what is really a three page story? The “story” the teacher was talking about sounded to me like what can most simply be called a “rant.” Lots of words used to trash lots of things, the only commonality being the words have been spewed onto the same sheet of paper and for whatever reason, have put the writer in an uproar.

The written rant is a fabulous outlet. No one strikes back or has to do any major time, it lets off steam and sometimes (sometimes) helps to lead the writer to what is really bothering her. Often these rants are intensely personal and not hardly what anyone would call good writing. However, some people do call them poetry.

My advice to the teacher was to read the rant and see if there were one or more images in the mix of spew that might be the basis of a “companion” poem. Not to mark up the original rant (or even label it as such) but to use that as a basis to unearth a poem or two embedded in the blast.

2. My daughter wrote a poem that is so dark, my husband asked if I thought she needed professional help. Hey, Picasso had a blue period. Many kids will tell you that they can only write when they are upset. When they are cruising, the sun’s out, surf’s up, who needs poetry? I think the thing to remember is that poems are snapshots, moments caught in time, and lord knows, we all have our moments. What I thought was so cool about this story was that a teenager was writing poetry, snapshots of bumps and valleys and SHARING THE POEMS WITH HER PARENTS. This is the absolute best. Is it “good” poetry? Who cares! The poem is a springboard for discussion. Is all of the writer’s life in the dumper? Probably not. But at the moment she wrote the poem it was and now that she has shared it, the parent gets to talk to the kid about the bigger picture. Teens get confined by tunnel vision, friends and school can be the entire world to them and part of our jobs as parents is to widen the vision. Poems can be great discussion starters.

3. My students are writing “victim” poetry. How do I get them out of it? Country western song writers have made entire careers out of the world done me wrong rhymes — it’s a tradition. But maybe not a tradition anyone wants to perpetuate, however, especially within a prison population, which was this teacher’s classroom. My suggestion was to start the writers out with an image, maybe a poster of a lone wolf or tiger (in the wild or in captivity) and have the students begin to write about that. Writers will wind up projecting themselves into the picture. It might be a start at getting them outside of themselves.

Might be. Who knows? We are all just trying to find our ways. Students, teachers, writers alike.


Big smiles at Sunbeam School, Cleveland, OH Posted by Hello

Sunbeam School, Cleveland, OH

The first thing you notice about Sunbeam is how friendly everyone is. Not that other schools are unfriendly, it’s just that EVERYONE makes an effort to shake hands and say “hi.” With 2 of the four classes I talked to we wrote poems, What’s So Big About Sunbeam School, where I found out the inside scoop…swimming, parties, reading, nice teachers (pretty, too), and a great library were among the assests the kids wanted to put in their poems.

Sunbeam is also a school with special facilities for students who have physical and other challenges. It is hopping with life and activities, a beautiful place to live and learn. Many thanks to media specialist Charlie Reed-Mundell for her efforts in putting together a stellar day and creating many spectacular smiles, each one a poetic image in itself.

Normandy Primary School Bay Village, OH

What’s so big about Bay Village? Looks like it’s the ice cream shop, the lake, the city pool, soccer and Normandy School and dozens of other places. Students at Normandy made individual pictures of what they think is big about their own town after reading What’s So Big About Cleveland. Their illustrations lined the bulletin boards of the school. Since Bay Village is my town too (where I lived for over 20 years, raised my kids and wrote many of my kid poems) so it was extra special for me to visit there and see their artwork.

In the department of small worlds department, the daughter of the teacher (Mrs. Woodburn) my daughter had when our dog Molly did in fact eat the report card and then the spelling book thereby inspiring the poem and then the book The Dog Ate My Homework is now teaching at Normanday. AND, Mrs. Woodburn’s grandaughter was in the audience.

It was a special pleasure to visit the same multipurpose room where we used to go for ice cream socials. Very special. And the kids were great, acting out poems for my introduction at the assemblies. Big thanks to Normandy!