About a month ago I checked out a couple of books from the library on how to teach poetry to children. I enjoyed the books and focused on the style that seemed the easiest starting point – which also went well with our Nature Observations.
The advice – to pick a landscape, topic, event – and make a list of what you See, Hear, Smell, Taste, Touch, Feelings, and Thoughts. I nervously sat down with the boys to talk about our new addition to our Nature Journals. I always have a catch in my confidence when bringing topics that I am interested in, and they have not asked about. I never can know if their interest will be sparked. Nathan says – Oh – You mean like – Silently swims the fish just out of reach of my line. . . bla bla bla –0r – Walking through a meadow, gazing at the wild, seeing it spring into color, bla bla bla, and he did this about 4 times with 5-6 line poems before I could even take a breath. YES! I mean, ya, ya something like that is what I had in mind. Lets um, write one of those little ditties down. Do you often think in these flowing terms when you are lost in thought? – Then he got nervous. Exposed. Insecure. I had pounced on my joy too loudly, too quickly.
We spent the morning as a family writing a poem about our back yard, all that we have gathered in the senses during our nature walks.
That afternoon I report to our Ms Teena, the Amazingly Wonderful Librarian, of the newly stumbled upon skill of Nathan and Jon. OH! she cries, We are having a poetry contest here, and you have a couple of days to enter, here is the list of rules – the topic is Dwelling Place. Nathan smiles widely as that seemed to be his favorite topic.
And yet, when we get home, he had a hard time penning down his own thoughts. His own words. On Paper.
He worked on it for 3 or more days – then we typed it up, with a cover sheet – to drop off at the Library with 2 hours time to spare.
And that was that.
Until last week – when Ms Teena told us that there was going to be a poetry reading on Weds at 6:30 – and that they would like it if Nathan would come and read his Poem. That they had over 50 entries – and others were coming to read – and that they were announcing the top prizes that evening.
I say above that that was that. But in my heart – I was the one that felt exposed. I did not help Nathan with his wording or adjectives or phrasing. To hand over his writing to a panel of Gulp Judges Gulp – and Nathan was in the High School category by age – our town starts High School in the 7th Grade. . . . . .
So when Ms Teena said the judges liked his poem – I was excited – and fearful, that maybe it was the “ we liked that he entered” type of like.
So on the way over there tonight – I had the talk with the boys – of how we were there for the experience, that everything isn’t about winning, and wouldn’t it be fun to listen to what others submitted.
And then it happened.
She called for first place – and Nathan – WON!!!!! I nearly fell off my chair. Nate said his cheeks got warm, and he got a little teary. I texted two friends while he read his poem to keep from sobbing. The emotion of it all.
And that’s when the struggle of being a homeschool mom gets exposed. You tell yourself that you are learning at your own pace, beating to the drum of your kids, focusing on Character more than Academics – but the fear – of not rising up among those of similar ages – that tiny root of wonder – is still back there. In a box taped up with grey duct tape sure – but it’s in the back of the closet no less.
And the joy – that my son – the one that didn’t read til he was 9 and a half – who really doesn’t like to write or draw – who would rather walk in the woods and figure out math problems than write a paragraph about anything – who – last year – did 4 years worth of of grammar to catch up – wins the Lincoln City Poetry Contest.
Sigh.
I know it shouldn’t matter as much as it does. But I have so much overwhelming feeling about it. My Son – the one that never wins – is the winner. Sigh.
See how he’s taller than the librarian?
See how those 32 inseam pants are not too long?
+Angie Wright
