Plymouth Writing Project
A Rainbow of Writers
Pakistani Writing Night
Tonight was a very special night. We got to write with new teacher friends
from around the world.
I can’t wait to tell you more in tomorrow’s post!
Hidden Gems
Baa haa haa! Hee hee! Loud cheering and clapping! Raucous laughter!
Out of all the many groups who have shared the dorm with me over these four weeks, guess who has had the most fun by far? They hooted and har-de-harred for hours yesterday evening, so loudly that I could hear their entire conversations the whole length of the hallway from the lobby. It made me want to be Harriet the Spy just to see what made these folks so very much fun to be around.
Have you made your guesses? Nope, not teachers. Nope, not firefighters. It is the New England City and Town Clerks conference! Their website says, “Our annual conference ‘contributes to the initiation of long-lasting friendships and a general feeling of camaraderie between all clerks in the New England states.’” I would testify that they are representing that accurately.
I will never feel quite the same again about a visit to the town office. Hidden beneath the “Your Lack of Planning Does Not Constitute My Emergency” sign might be a hilarious entertainer, and it makes me want to know more.
What person have you met lately that fills you with curiosity? Tell us about your encounter.
As Dominican As I Can Be
Remember in a previous post that I was mentioning serendipitous encounters, keeping your eyes open to all the many opportunities around you. Today I would like to introduce you to one special treat of the Writing Institute–new friends.
Meet Rigil Ballester. Rigil is visiting this summer from the Dominican Republic. I have been learning so much from him all along, but he agreed to chat with me during lunch this week so that I could ask some questions about his country that you may be wondering.
Miss Blessing: What would my students be most excited to find out about you?
Rigil Ballester: One connection you may be excited about is the fact that there are a number of Dominican ball players on the Red Sox team. Some of them are David Ortiz, Manny Delcarmen, and Adrian Beltre.
http://boston.redsox.mlb.com/index.jsp?c_id=bos
I have met David Ortiz (Big Papi) personally through my work, as well as many other baseball players. Everyone in the Dominican Republic likes to play baseball, and I played a lot growing up. There are a number of farm leagues in my country. We call it the farm system because it’s where the players can grow in their ball skills. They do baseball morning until night in the baseball compounds.
Now I do Major League Chapel for the ball players in the Dominican Republic, from minor league to professional, providing spiritual guidance for them. Their teams pay them a lot of money for playing, but they are human beings with troubles and family things that may be on their minds. I go to the dugouts before games to pray and talk with the players to support them in any way they need.
I teach students from all around the world how to speak Spanish. I take them out into the real culture to learn, and they do a lot of learning by writing. My students do community service learning. I connect my students to service learning in seven different communities, and they help the people there in all different ways.
Miss Blessing: Rigil showed me pictures of the baseball players practicing. I also was especially interested in his pictures of some students from Philadelphia who raised money their whole senior year to come help malnourished children by putting cement on the floors of their houses instead of dirt and getting gardens going in their communities. I am wondering if there is some way next year’s fourth graders may be able to be involved.
Rigil also has a special connection with last year’s fourth graders. He was in my writing group on the day I shared my poem, “If You’re Not From New Hampshire.” Our class wrote these poems as a final response to our year of New Hampshire Studies, and we were hoping to express our love of our place. Rigil was intrigued, and he wrote a piece entitled, “As Dominican as I Can Be” to demonstrate HIS love of his place. He agreed to publish a paragraph or two of his piece as part of this post.
As Dominican as I Can Be
As Dominican as I can be.
Yes, I’m Dominican. My skin and soul are painted in different colors. My blood is warm, heavy and explosive just like the sun that burns the sugarcane fields. My Sundays are filled with baseball bats and pain. My back is marked with invisible scars from dictatorships that I cannot erase from my past, but my heart is full of joy.
I dance merengue, salsa, bachata and laugh about my luck. Come on and take a closer look… you may find my definition of freedom interesting as well.
Thank you for sharing, Rigil! If you have questions for Mr. Ballester, write a comment!
Marching On
Life is full of unexpected surprises if you just look around you and notice them. It’s so nice in the summer to have the time to slow down, observe, listen, and open yourself up to those surprises!
Today as I carried my groceries to the room after class, I noticed the parking lot of my dorm was suddenly full of cars, when this morning there were only five as I left for the day. I chatted with a gentleman in the hallway and found out that all of these cars belong to band directors. The regional conference for band directors in New England is held here. Did you know there were that many band directors? They are perusing new music together, discussing and sharing their best ideas, and helping to fill the world with high-stepping, heart-thumping music.
Here are some famous band songs for you to enjoy while you think for a minute.
Bands Playing College Fight Songs!
What surprised you today? What serendipitous encounter did you have?
Tell us about it in a comment!
Open Mic
One of my favorite times of each week in the Writing Institute is Open Mic during the last hour of the last day. We cozy into our listening chairs to hear our classmates read something they would like to share.
(What would you think of ending our weeks with Open Mic next year during school? Upcoming fourth graders especially, let me know!)
I was really missing all the DES students this week, so this poem was especially meaningful to me. After class, I asked Ms. Aldebot Reyes if she would be willing to share her poem on our class blog for everyone to enjoy. Ms. Aldebot Reyes is visiting the United States from the Dominican Republic. You have a strong connection to her island from current events last year. Write a comment back if you know what it is. English is her second language (Who knows what her first would be? Comment, and she’ll let you know if you are right!), so that makes writing in English a real mental challenge, doesn’t it?
Enjoy!
Students
A treasure chest
a radiant rainbow
a precious gift
arriving from all corners of the world
gliding as stars
in a dark summer night.
Each one is different:
tall, short,
thin, fat,
rude, delicate,
enthusiastic, quiet.
As they arrive to class,
each emits a different color ray
everyone carries a secret inside.
As time goes by
the treasure chest opens
and little stars begin to sprout
each at its own pace
unfolding wisdom and light.
Sometimes, a thick shell covers their hearts
but little by little the wrapping melts
the inner core is revealed
when it happens
the volcano of life erupts
expelling celebration and joy.
Each class is a play
a majestic concert
a glamorous miracle
a master piece.
Nelsy Aldebot Reyes
July 9, 2010
So Writer, What Are Your Thoughts? I’m Listening!
Here at the Writing Institute, we write,
and we read about writing,
and we write,
and we talk about writing,
and we write.
It has come up again and again how important it is to have an audience for your writing and a conversation about your writing. Well, today the upcoming fifth graders had both! Go click on their blogs to the right. They each had a reader/commenter from among my classmates during my exploration on blogging. I wish you could have heard the adults’ genuine enjoyment as they read! Hooray for blogging!
An Image–my third draft (but not done yet)
New Hampshire summer sunlight dapples down through the maple tree outside my door, calling me to come. Our nesting woodpecker chimes her repeated note, but the full-leafed rustle of breezy forest is the only other sound. Perfect stillness.
Delicate pink Cosmos shimmer in the morning air where my Mama planted a flower bed outside my window for my birthday. Ruffled petals surround a center of fuzzy yellow. Some of the stems droop over with the weight of the blossom, and some stand tall with their pointy leaves at attention. I gather a tiny bouquet for Grandma’s baby vase, tucking in a bit of lacy fern.
For as long as I can remember, Mama has welcomed us home with Cosmos in the summer. A woman of few words but deep and rich thoughts, she is an intriguing mystery none of us will ever completely solve. She leaves clues to her innermost self with small but deliberate actions. When you arrive at her Vermont home, meticulous gardens greet you, and on the front door is a thin flower basket filled with a fresh welcome gift. No matter the mix, it always includes Cosmos, the smiling harbingers of our New England summers. Throughout the house similar offerings surprise you in every room. A tiny vase is tucked in the corner of the bathroom counter, your bureau holds another arrangement, and there is even a miniature window box in the center of the kitchen window near where we sit to sip tea. I always feel like Mama’s flowers are her arms drawing me into an embrace in her mind, tender and full of love.
Today I started my day with a Cosmo.
Images
Do you remember how it felt when Marty Kelley came to visit us? Wasn’t it a thrill to hear Mary Lyn Ray respond to your own writing? Well, one of the privileges of the Writing Institute is getting to meet a new published author EVERY WEEK! We listen carefully to something they have written, and they challenge us to write something too.
Our first author, Janna Smith, had us pick an image, a picture that we had in our head. Then we created, keeping just that simple picture in our minds. My classmates wrote about all kinds of things, such as ladies carrying water on their heads in Kenya, being in a kayak on a river, and even a very dirty and gross sponge.
I was in sort of a peaceful mood because I had a picture of my flower garden in my head that day, but it could be any kind of image you want. What’s in your head today? I wonder if you might have the image of your baseball game, the sprinkler in your back yard, or your friend’s arm full of Silly Bandz. Write a comment or a post on your blog about the image in your head. I will write back if you do!