The kids and I read and discussed “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon:
Where I’m From
I am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening,
it tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.
I’m from fudge and eyeglasses,
from Imogene and Alafair.
I’m from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! and Pipe down!
I’m from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.
I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.
Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
I am from those moments–
snapped before I budded —
leaf-fall from the family tree.
And then I had them write their own Where I’m From poems. I got everything from the hilarious (Jamar)
I am from my Converses
That I wear about every day for my fashion purposes
to the alliterative (Daniel)
I am from the Wii,
From the wild.
to the sad
I am from the ramp leading up to my front door.
[Aaron is in a wheelchair.]
to the wise beyond her years (Kyrie)
I’m from notes being passed and looks being exchanged.
I am from a full shelf of books I no longer read,
Trophies that I cannot recall exactly how they were earned
to the nope, not quite (Emiré)
I love when it’s Christmas
The warm cookies and the snow mans in the snow
The nice red stockings
And we wake up to some nice merchandise
to the…really? “big shaped mirrors”? (Jaeden)
I am from the Shane Family
In my family we had tons of dogs
We had every breed and every kind of dog
In my backyard we have a 12-year old shed.
In my neighborhood we have a 20-year old house
My Family has hundreds of big shaped mirrors
We loved to do thanksgiving because we got to eat all
my ancestors’ food.
to the I can hear it as spoken word (Jeremy)
I am from religious ceremonies and holy matrimonies.
Through the grapevine I heard the whispering voices that weren’t supposed to be heard.
From baptism to the church choir.
I’m from better or worse or worse to better.
I’m from leatherheads with speed and agility.
The country to the city is my origins.
Dogs big to small.
70’s afro style to 21st century braids.
Scars and bruises and spankings and switches.
to the tries to ruin itself with a last-line cliché but can’t because it’s just too awesome (Raquayne)
to the Y-chromosomed (Yusuf has three brothers)
to the I don’t understand it, but I effing love it (Nelson).
I’m from all these kids, and some days, that’s a pretty cool thing.
These kids are amazing. I can’t conjure up anything that poetic and eloquent.
I loved this!
Your kids are brilliant at this–made my day.
Wonderful!
Please tell your poets I said Hi and Bravo!
For all our voices,
George Ella Lyon
HOLYEVERLOVINGCRAP.
Thanks for reading and commenting!
You truly are the graest teacher ever! I love that you bring these poems out of your kids.
thanks for these, which Catherine Mueuller forwarded to me. Touching, funny, disarmingly powerful
Welcome!
To everyone, thanks for digging them as much as I did.
Beautiful. I don’t know what else to say. This makes me want to be a kid again so I can feel all this stuff new.
Amazing poetry, Amy!