Memories, Forgotten

12/4/23

When I need inspiration to write, I often read a poem-of-the-day on one of the following sites:

• Poets.org - https://poets.org/poem-a-day 

• PoetryFoundation.org - https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/poem-of-the-day 

12/4/2023 Inspiration: “Yiddishland” by Erika Meitner https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57958/yiddishland 

My poem…

“Memories, Forgotten” by Amber Counts

I listened to my grandmothers’ stories.

I swear I did.

I leaned forward with anticipation each time

They shared their experiences,

Told tales of our ancestors whom I would never know

(But whose choices still shape reality),

Or allowed glimpses into who they were–

Separate from my grandmothers–

        Who they really were–

        I listened.

And I remember a great deal, but not enough.

My ancestors’ names have begun slipping through

Gaps in my memory.

How many siblings accompanied each of my great-grandparents

Along his or her life’s journey?

Why did my maternal family move to Texas

(And from where did they come)?

How many stories of love, adversity, and perseverance

Are now lost to time?

At least some of that loss is my fault.

So I will tell my children how one of their great-grandmothers 

Skipped school to drag-race

While the other skipped class to ride in an open-cockpit biplane.

And I will record how one married for love

While the other married for War.

And I will report how the love of these two

Infinitely strong and compassionate women

Saved and shaped my life.

At least this will be remembered.

Writing with Mentor Texts #3: The To Un-do List

Mentor text (from movingwriters.org):

My list using the above mentor text as inspiration:

Writing with Mentor Texts #2: Where they Happen to Be

Mentor Text: https://www.washingtonpost.com/graphics/2018/national/mass-shootings-in-america/?noredirect=on

Quote from mentor text used as inspiration: “Public mass shootings account for a tiny fraction of the country’s gun deaths, but they are uniquely terrifying because they occur without warning in the most mundane places. Most of the victims are chosen not for what they have done but simply for where they happen to be.”

“Where they Happen to Be” by Amber Counts

Statistically, the chance of a school shooting

occurring at any one given school is small.

Yet it constantly weighs on my mind.

Lest I forget, even for a second, that this

hypothetical horror could become a reality,

we have the annual compliance training

to remind me.

Avoid. Deny. Defend.

Lockdown: Locks! Lights! Out of Sight!

I just read that “victims are chosen not what they have done

but for simply where they happen to be.”

But what if they happen to be in school?

They happen to be in a place where they are supposed to feel safe.

They happen to be in a space designed for learning and discovery.

They happen to be in a place that offers support systems for people who feel depressed or angry.

They happen to be in a place full of America’s hope for the future.

They happen to be with a teacher who will give her life for theirs,

but hopes she never has to.

Writing with Mentor Texts #1: What they Did Yesterday Evening

As part of training on Writing with Mentor Texts, we've been asked to access the movingwriters.org site and find mentor texts to use as inspiration. It's a great resource for finding mentor texts to use for personal writing and/or with students. Check it out!

Mentor text used (from movingwriters.org):

My poem inspired by this piece:

“What they Did Yesterday Evening” by Amber Counts June, 2020

They staged a protest in front of my school;

I selfishly worried that they might loot my classroom,

as my window faces the front of the building.

I thought about all the treasures I might lose –

drawings made by students, little scraps of origami

with notes to the teacher, framed photos of students

who graduated years ago,

stuffed animals

representing inside class jokes –

representing the class culture I always work to build –

the inclusive culture I always hope to build –

and I think about the students who left these treasures behind:

many of them students of color.

And I think about the ways I fell short.

I think about the ways I continue to learn and to do better.

I think about how when I started to draw sketches of my favorite authors,

I began with white ones. Three, in all, before adding my favorite black authors.

Though this was unintentional,

the fact remains that I see what I did.

I see the inadvertent message I sent

when only those 3 white authors hung on my wall.

I will never again be so unintentionally biased.

I will not worry about my things being looted

more than I worry about the people who feel moved to loot them.

I see the diversity of the protestors who met

yesterday evening outside of my school

as a strength.

But I also see that we have a long way to go.

Together.

And I see that we cannot change the world

unless we do the difficult work

of truly seeing ourselves.

Seeing ourselves.