Emulation as Inspiration: A Student's Poetic Response to My Poem

     On my other blog, "Writing Memorable Words," I published a poem titled "View from Another Bench," which I recently used as a writing prompt with one of my previously featured middle-school students, eleven-year-old Aashi. I was greatly impressed with her apt emulation of my theme about how the assumptions we make about others often lead to our misguided actions, which, in turn, lead to our embarrassment. I proudly present to you here Aashi's poem, born of her response to mine: "Tied." Feel free to leave your comments for her below (and if you want to read my poem, the prompt, just click on its title, above, and the link will take you there).

Tied

by Aashi M.

The little girl bends down                          

to tie her shoes,

with a pout on her face.

My mother would tie my shoes for me

when I was her age.

But her parents are busy.

So instead, I walk over to her,

untying my own shoes,

to show her how to tie them.

"First, make bunny ears," I tell her,

making two loops with my own laces.

"Then--"

"I know how to tie them," she cuts me off.

I stare at her, shocked, 

as she finishes tying her shoes with perfect loops.

Making me look like a fool,

tying my own purposely untied shoes,

as she breezes past me.

     Emulation exercises provide an excellent launching pad for creative writing; having an actual poem or prose piece to model as a prompt can spark ideas much faster, in my experience, than a conceptual prompt. For instance, if I had given as a prompt only the description of my poem (written above), merely telling her the theme of "View from Another Bench," I guarantee that my student would have not experienced her "aha moment" before my delighted eyes. If a writing teacher provides vague or purely conceptual guidelines, young writers end up toying with possible ideas and false starts for a while before venturing, tentatively, to create a first draft. I have found that by offering my students a first line to launch their original works (and then they can modify that given line later in the final revision), or by presenting them with another poem or piece of fiction to emulate, their inspirations arrive quickly and the resulting written works generally have depth and clarity. Furthermore, the young authors have more confidence that they have fulfilled the goal of the writing prompt.

Essay Paragraph Checklist as Easy as "E-I-E-I-O!"

I gave this guide to my workshop students, and I'm sharing it now, here, for those who teach and those who learn about writing!

CRITIQUING AN ESSAY PARAGRAPH IN RESPONSE TO LITERATURE—GUIDELINES (for peer editing and self-editing)

Think of E I E I O (like the “Old MacDonald” song!) Use this to guide your editorial notes on your critique partner’s page.

Establish (topic/theme)

Illustrate (with quotation or example that fits established topic)

Explain (explain what the illustration shows)

Interpret (interpret why the illustration shows what it shows or is important)

Overall (overall, this paragraph has revealed that…)

1. Is the topic clearly ESTABLISHED, in specific words, as the opening line of the paragraph? 

If you answered YES, then write “clear and concise” beside that line.

If you answered NO, then write “clarify and cut,” and add your suggestions, if any, in the margin.

2.  Is the sentence that establishes the topic/theme followed by an apt verbal ILLUSTRATION, a.k.a. “concrete detail,” “example,” or quotation? 

If the illustration IS fitting, write “well-illustrated” beside that line.

If the illustration does NOT aptly support the opening line, annotate in the margin “find stronger example.” 

If the illustration could have been shorter, mark how you would cut it down to be most concise.

Also, is that illustration set up in context for a reader who might know nothing about the quoted or referenced literature?  Underline the transitional words that set up the illustration and put a smiley face beside them.

If the  “set up” needs improvement, or is absent, please note that in the margin and suggest ideas for a smooth set up.

3. Is the illustration followed by a commentary line to EXPLAIN what this particular illustration shows?

If YES, write “fine explanation” and a checkmark beside that line.

If the commentary line does not explain, or is absent, write “clear explanation needed here.”

4. Does the next commentary line INTERPRET the purpose of the words in the illustration on a deeper level, offering YOUR opinion (without saying, “I think” or “I feel that”) of why this example is important for the reading of the work?

If the line is a thought-provoking interpretation, draw a glowing light bulb beside it.

If the student writer has merely restated the previous explanation, without adding any depth, write “go deeper” beside that line. If the interpretation goes off-topic, write that in the margin.

5. Does the concluding line provide an OVERALL statement of what this paragraph has revealed, in a broader sense than the opening line?

If so, draw a smiley face beside it.

If it merely restates the established topic in slightly different words than the ones in the first sentence, then write “go broader” in the margin.

Creativity Defies Expectations

     

    Creativity flourishes in the absence of expectations. Teachers who offer broad writing prompts to students should be seeking to inspire a broad range of creative responses--not preconceived "right" answers. Grading of such responses has to focus on the depth of thoughts behind the words, as well as on their strength, in terms of structure and word choices.

     I recall being assigned an essay in college with an open-ended prompt to "compare three works by Samuel Beckett to explore recurrent themes and write about a unifying thread in the body of work." I asked my professor, “Is there a particular aspect of the works that you want us to focus on?” 

     The professor replied condescendingly, “This is an upper level English course. You should be able to find your own thesis by discovering a common thread between the works. It’s an open-ended prompt. It’s up to you to THINK.”

     A few days later, after hours of poring over books in the library, I found what I considered an intriguing connection between the works—a connection that inspired a strong thesis. I then composed with passion an essay that I turned in with pride. I expected awe from my professor.

     What I received instead of awe was a B-minus. Me? A B-minus?! Never! I thought, stomping down the long hallway to his office after class. I asked why he graded me so harshly, and he replied, “You must not have covered what I was looking for.”

     “What you were hoping for? I thought you said it was an open-ended prompt. Did you not like my writing style or something?”

     “No, your writing was probably fine, but like many of your classmates’ essays, it just didn’t cover what I was looking for.”

     “Meaning what? That you actually did have a prompt in mind, and wanted us to somehow figure out what you were looking for, rather than what we were looking for? Why didn’t you just assign the prompt you expected us to answer? This is totally unfair!”

     He raised one eyebrow at me, over the top of his brown plastic glasses. “I’m sorry you feel that way. You’ll still have a B in the class, though, and you should be happy, since this is an advanced class and you’re, what, only a sophomore, right? You did better than some of the seniors, you’ll be glad to know.”

     I sighed, exasperated. “That’s not the point! I don’t care about how some seniors did. I KNOW I wrote a solid essay. I know how it compares to my other essays—which were all A’s and A-minuses, if you don’t recall. I really believe I deserve a higher grade. Would you please reread this—“ I took out the essay from my backpack—“and reconsider? Please?”

     He sat back in his chair and tapped his pen on the edge of his desk, while staring at the essay in my hand. “I don’t have the time to reread essays for every student who complains. Course grades are due tomorrow, and I’m in the middle of submitting them. You’d have to take an Incomplete in this class, you realize. And then I’d get around to rereading your essay when I have time.”

     “Fine, then give me an Incomplete. All I’m asking is that you read my essay with the same open mind you asked us to use when searching for our theses.”

     He sniffed. “I already did. But since you’re so insistent, and so worried about getting a B, for some reason, I will take a second look—at my convenience. Just know that I rarely change a grade.”

     Two months later, at the end of the summer, I opened my mail and found a grade change notice, but no copy of my re-graded essay. He had given me an A-minus for my course grade. Too bad he didn’t have the guts to contact me personally and apologize for not reading my work as carefully as he should have, in the first place.

     A teacher who has preconceived expectations should not offer prompts designed to evoke original thoughts and inspire creative approaches to writing. That kind of teacher is not one who inspires, but just requires. At least my professor indirectly acknowledged that my interpretation of his prompt was acceptable after all. Maybe I even taught HIM something by standing up for my “wrong answer.”

     I hope that all of my writing students—and ALL students—are familiar enough with their own standards of “Best” to know when they can legitimately demand reconsideration of an unjust grade in their regular school classes. Creative writing has no right or wrong answers; only strong or weak ways of presenting one’s perspective. Strong words deserve respect for the effort taken to craft them. (This is why I never grade my private students' works, only critique and coach them to revise until they feel satisfied with their own new standard of "best." I let regular classroom teachers deal with predetermined standards in their graded assessments.)

     Often I am surprised, as my professor was, by the approaches students take to my prompts. Some kids want me to lay out a plan for them, because they want to make sure they "get it right," but the highly creative ones not only don’t want my input, but they inspire me to see their unique perspectives. Nothing beats the joy I have in saying, “Wow, you taught ME something today! I wish I had thought of that myself! Very cool! Thank you! Oh—and will you give me a copy to post on my blog?”

Reviewing Process-Oriented Writing Instruction

Excerpted from an old online article I wrote about writing instruction in public schools:

Many teachers have misled students into believing that the scores applied to written works matter more than both the learning derived from the process, and the establishing of one's own personal best standards in writing. If I, as a writer, create my works based only on what others expect or demand from me, I am not truly communicating, only fashioning words to serve others; not creating, but reiterating; not sighing with pride upon completion of a written work, but rather, with relief to be finished. If I, as a teacher of writing, do not lead my students into careful examination of the words they choose and the reasons they choose them, I fail to assist the communication process.

In focusing on the process, rather than solely on the product, during writing instruction, teachers serve as Muses--to inspire, enlighten, and guide. Teachers must practice more questioning (that good ole Socratic method) and less judging. We must pose questions that produce detailed and/or profound answers. Then we can guide and enrich revisions by asking, "So, is this what you were hoping to convey?" We need to ask what happened between points A and C, not simply deduct points for a lack of B. We should annotate, not simply grade papers; and offer clear example essays (which we ought to write ourselves!), not simply clever writing prompts. Teachers honor communication itself by showing young writers' that their sweat-filled words matter enough to elicit our thoughtful reactions and sound recommendations for continued improvement.