Slice Of Life Story -The Lost Spirit of Cowabunga Days

As I sat on the beach yesterday I began to think about change....

There was a time when I would race across the broad stretch of sand and charge into the surf –fearless in the foaming waves; prepared for the impending plunge. I would dive into the on coming wave, embracing the sudden cold rush without hesitation. I was the embodiment of the Cowabunga spirit!  The embodiment of joy, happiness and surprise. I dashed, splashed and crashed with the best of them. Well, that spirit evaporated fairly quickly. I’m not sure what happened to it actually. Maybe it was the natural progression from the bravado of youth to the measured machinations of adulthood?  Maybe the spirit of Cowabunga just drifted out with the tide?

I do know it’s gone. These days I take a more leisurely approach to entering the surf. I sit on the beach under my umbrella observing the state of the waves. I lather on sunscreen and conduct a quick poll of the numbers already swimming. I consider the sky, the strength and direction of the breeze, and the temperature of the day.

In time I walk slowly to the shoreline to dip a tentative toe in the water to gauge the temperature. If my test proves positive, I accept the invitation to undertake a full body immersion.

I walk slowly into the water –ankles, knees waist deep. I immerse my wrists in the water and allow my body to adjust to its watery environment. The wind whips up the waves and I stand taller and involuntarily shudder as the plimsoll line is broached. The operation is complete when I take the final plunge into the approaching waves. Sudden, dramatic, cooling bracing- I’m in and under –at one with the wetness.

The ceremony is complete. The freshness of the water revives and refreshes. It amuses my grandchildren. They never got to see me in my Cowabunga days. My expressions of joy and happiness are still apparent, just a little less physical these days.

I Received A 'Writer's Gift' Today

It’s always fun to receive a parcel in the mail. Today I received a parcel that surprised and delighted me. A group of Grade 4 students from Regency Park Primary School I had the pleasure of working with last year sent me a ‘Writer’s Gift.’ With the assistance of their committed teacher, Katherine Corr, these students had assembled a broad sample of their best writing across 2011 parcelled it up and presented it to me.  

 Katherine gently and consistently guided these students, encouraging their risk taking, prompting them to try new ideas, and supporting them through conferencing and feedback. This approach has incorporated a metacognitive component where student writers have been encouraged to be reflective about their work as writers. These were fertile conditions for the writer consultant to move into, I must admit.

Upon reading these samples I was astounded by the breadth of writing forms covered. I was immediately aware of the sense of ownership evident in the writing. Each writer had made informed choices regarding the shape and form for their respective pieces. They had submitted in their preferred genre. The writing displays a growing awareness of the text structures and features of specific genres.

Reading also revealed the potential of these writing gifts for use as student mentor texts. These are writing pieces I can easily bring to the attention of other young writers to inspire and grow their work.  So, I am doubly grateful to these fellow writers.  I now have tangible evidence of the growth of these enthusiastic young writers and an ongoing reminder of the sessions we spent together celebrating writing.

Let me briefly share some examples:

‘My heart was beating fast. My stomach felt like jelly. I couldn’t feel my legs. The Scenic Railway went up and down over the bumps. The whole of Luna Park was below me. The people looked like Barbie Dolls. On the road cars looked like little matchbox cars…’

Josie uses the Inside/Outside strategy

‘I shuffled closer to look at the stretched out view of the brightly lit city. The lights were like a colony of fireflies, and the buildings shimmered like silvery coins…’

Nerika paints a scene with words

‘Delightful chocolate stuck to my fingers. Flickering, my tongue asked for more of the sweet, rich chocolate. I was melting with happiness as the mix of sugary warm chocolate oozed through my mouth…’

Billie’s rich description

‘Planes shift around me, they travel left and right to their destinations

I am the cloud
When it is a stormy day the sky turns grey and it starts to rain
I am the cloud’
Grace’s poem incorporates the use of personification

‘This is no ordinary fairy tale. It has a twist that you shall enjoy…”

Brooke’s Lead

‘Syvlia didn’t even get to say bye. She was home in bed, same time, same day. ‘I’m never adding that magic cookie ingredient again she thought…’

Chayli’s Ending

‘ It all began when my triple-decker chocolate fudge cake blew up in my face…’

Crystal surprise Lead

'Basketball is loved by many people. It is one of the most popular sports in Australia. Males and females play basketball in different age groups. You need five or more players on each team to play.’

Daniel explains the game of Basketball

‘King Tutankhamen was only a minor pharaoh in the history of Egypt. He became famous when his tomb was discovered by Howard Carter…’

Katrina shares her growing knowledge of King Tut

‘Have you got time to go on a holiday? Why don’t you go to Africa!

Here are some reasons why everyone should go to Africa at least once in their life…”
Janvi writes persuasively about Africa

‘I believe sharks should be protected. They are wonderful animals and some species are now endangered. Here are three reasons why they should be protected…’

Rubyrose introduces her argument in favour of protecting sharks

'Pongopui Island has everything you want! Wait, I’ll tell you a secret, -the tickets are selling fast.’

Vivienne writes to influence us to visit this mythical holiday resort

‘Are you tired of normal water?

This fizzy drink will burp your mind!
It’s not normal Coca Cola, it’s…
BURP COLA!
It will make you feel like you’re in a different world!’
Chayli and Janvi try to persuade us to drink their questionable product

Slice of Life Story -Delight in Doing the Dishes

As writers, we need to celebrate those small seemingly mundane tasks in our daily lives. We need to embrace the wonder of ‘now’ and not allow it to become a casualty of the pace of our lives; swept aside in the rush towards the next item on a crowded agenda. There is beauty in small moments, even something viewed as a chore,  -doing the dishes.

Just because I meander, don’t assume I’m lost…

Dishes

We share the kitchen

Washing the dishes

There are too few to fret over

When its tea for two

We work instinctively

Easily

Back and forth

At our respective tasks

Washing, wiping

Putting away

Never colliding

Never bumping

No clash or clamour

We glide

Through our detergent driven manoeuvres

Partners in a waltz around the kitchen sink

Pots and pans return to assigned places

And the dishwasher feeds on the leftovers

Our conversation floats easily

Background music drifting through

A moment

A memory

As we measure the day

The chore dissolves in a word sea

We complete the task

Rinse and wring

Wipe and fold

Unconsciously

The dishes are done

No Problem

Making Effective Use Of The Writer's Notebook VIDEO

This video is my humble attempt to explain how maintaining a Writer's Notebook assists as a writer and educator. It's another way of sharing experiences. I have been maintaining a Writer's Notebook for almost thirty years and over that time they have undergone much change in content and format. It is an ongoing process.

Hope you see and hear something that resonates with how you see the notebook supporting you as a teacher of writing.

Summer Writes - Where Does My Poetry Hide?

Poetry should be part of the summer writes. It sings out to be included. So, where is it hiding? Where is it to be found? Let’s go see…

Where Does My Poetry Hide?

I look for it in conversations I hear on the street

In my collected treasures

Junky to precious

I look for it in lettuce, limes and lemons

In asparagus, apples, and apricots

I might find it in a packet of  extra strong peppermints

A jar of peanut butter

Smooth and cloying

I can find poetry in a cluster of seashells

Glittering sea glass

sandcastles and seaweed

I seek it out in a song’s refrain

And a child’s voice in a playground

I find it in my favourite books

An isolated word

Angry or otherwise

I see it in photographs that gently embrace my history

Poetry hides in a banana

A voice on the radio

A storm

In a day old newspaper article

I look for poetry in my wife’s eyes

Or recollections of my parents

I look for poetry when I listen to the morning song of magpies

I wake each day and I know it’s out there

Waiting for me

So where does your poetry hide?

Slice of Life Story- The Playground is a Magnet

I returned to the local playground last week at the suggestion of two of my grandchildren. We were waiting for my wife to finish some essential fashion research in nearby shops and a timely suggestion emerged, -Can we go to the park?
We have been coming to this park, overlooking Mornington’s harbour for many years. Initially, Vicki and I came with their parents. All my grandchildren have played here over time. I am warmed by that knowledge. The playground is a magnet.

When we arrive, the children explode from the car, entering the playground with muscles twitching and limbs stretching into action. They climb they fall, they leap, they dive; swinging and sliding and hanging like monkeys. All the time they’re searching out the next piece of playground equipment to be conquered. They take risks and enter into personal challenges. They rise and fall incurring blisters and bruises, yet still they persist. Fun wins out.  It is a time for the healthy pursuit of a bit of rough and tumble. This is no place for wimps. The playground is a metaphor for life.

As they have grown, I notice the children have adapted their use of certain equipment. It is fascinating to watch them find new ways to use familiar structures. Shimmying up a pole, rather than sliding down. Walking up the slippery slide, or sliding down on its outer edge in a move that openly defies the accepted manner of sitting in the groove provided and sliding sedately to the bottom. When they tire of the play equipment, they climb and scramble over the massive trees nearby.

Following this, they run laps of the adjoining open space, before demanding a game of ‘tiggy.’ I’m included in the contest. I should feel honoured that I’m considered capable. It’s a little difficult to chase because I’m holding a bag and a camera, but I do my best. They giggle and squeal as we romp about. Gotcha! You’re it!

The park is crowded with family groups on the day of our visit. Summer is the perfect time to let kids run free in the playground. Their voices sing a song of pure delight. Adults sport cameras in the quest to capture these special times. As usual I take a raft of photos. It is a compelling force. Kids are generally at their vibrant best in this environment. As they grow older they will move away from the playground, but I suspect they will return in time with the next generation of playground explorers, who will unleash their boundless energies in this space The playground is a magnet.

Summer Reads Feed the Writer Within

I am working my way through a host of books across the summer…

I started out with Natalie Goldberg’s ‘Old Friend from Far Away’ which is adding to my knowledge of memoir writing. Natalie Goldbeg says to memoir we must know how to remember and to assist the reader to improve memory she provides timed and associative exercises to guide writing development around memoir. A great book if you are considering committing part of your life story to paper.

I am also reading ‘Beyond Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue' by Benjamin Green. Again, this is a practical guide to assisting students to write free verse. Green writes with a comfortable voice and guides the reader through a series of exercises aimed at helping students create high quality poems. I see this as a teacher resource book where ideas could be adopted, modified and presented. I am always a little wary of books that present a step by step process for writing, -poetry in particular, but the structure provides does provide support for those teachers who find teaching poetry a challenge.

Keri Smith’s, 'How to Be An Explorer of the World' is an exciting collection of possibilities for documenting your interactions with the world. It’s a dip into kind of book containing pages dripping with potential projects to pursue. The artist in me loves this book. It challenges the imagination and sparks thought with sixty explorations to consider from people watching to finding words; from found paper art creations to documenting differences. This book is for those of us with harvester hearts.

I am reading Michael Rosen’s picture story book, ‘Sad Book.’ Rosen writes with total honesty about his thinking following the death of his son Eddie. Rosen writes about his sadness, how it affects him and the things he does to cope with his emotional state. A very personal story is shared with sensitivity. It speaks truthfully to readers of all ages. I can imagine this book becoming a mentor text when discussing the emotional heart of the writer.

Rosen writes, ‘Sometimes I’m sad and I don’t know why. It’s just a cloud that comes along and covers me up. It’s not because Eddie’s gone. It’s not because my mum’s gone. It’s just because.’

Michael Rosen has been a favourite poet of mine for many years. His poetry makes a perfect fit with my need for humour. That’s what makes this book all the more important to me. Rosen is taking me in the opposite direction emotionally, but the level of trust is strong so I feel like I need to listen and learn from his experience. The full gamut of emotion has been bridged. It is easy to be moved by the honesty of the writer's experience. I felt like I knew Eddie through the poet's earlier work that focused on Eddie's formative years. I shared this book with two of my grandchildren. They listened with great intent, raised numerous questions and asked me to read it again. Now, that's a great review.

My final book arrived as a Christmas gift, - Paul Kelly’s ‘How to Make Gravy.’ The master Australian born song writer and story teller has written a weighty memoir. Using the lyric lines from his songs, Kelly tells the stories of his life including the art of songwriting. This book provides what the indigenous people call songlines. The book is an exploration of big and little things in life.

All these books provide insights. They sustain me as both reader and writer. The words wash over; soaking into me. I am the sum of all my reading. Curing my ignorance is an on going quest.

I’m always telling students you can’t be a writer unless you’re a reader. You can’t be a reader unless you’re a thinker. I’m trying to put that into action as summer unfolds. Afterall, I don’t want that summer drop off in my reading levels.

The Writer As EXPLORER- Things on the Ground PROJECT

Each morning, when possible, I walk in the fresh air not too long after the sun has peeked above the far horizon. Being on holiday at present has enabled me to walk more frequently.

This morning though, as part of my summer writes I followed the lead of Keri Smith in her book, ‘How to be an Explorer of the World’ and set out for my morning walk with the words ‘Everything is interesting, look closer’ singing in my ears. My project was to take photos only of things found on the ground. Using my iphone I walked my usual route, pausing to snap items that caught my eye.

Since the age of about ten I have been enamoured by photography. As a teacher and a writer, this love of the photographic image has been a positive influence. I believe It has aided my eye as a writer. Small detail is important. What takes place inside a camera can also take place inside your head.

As teachers of writing we need to be collectors. We must observe, collect and analyse. This documentation of specific elements of our world, our culture through research is our lifeblood. I also collect to enable me to remember. Sometimes I collect things that initially appear meaningless or trivial, however the reflective process of writing often leads me back to an important realization or wider connection and I am better informed as a writer.

To have students grow into close observers of their world, we must lead them into new territories and methods of investigation. So, as I set out on my mission I found myself acutely focused.

The images I captured on my walk have become potential writing topics and ideas. They will assist me to achieve the vital link to new ideas.

I am already thinking about my next visual project. Maybe, the next focus (pardon the pun) could be, ‘things on walls.’  This was fun. It was easy and it was instructive. My summer writes continue. These images will go into my notebook. They will inform me as a writer. Anything can be a starting place…