Today I love nostalgia. Dictionary.com says that nostalgia is "a sentimental yearning for the happiness of a former place or time", among other things. It's so interesting to think about nostalgia when being an educator. Our version of "a former place or time" is so very different from our students'. When I think of nostalgia, I go back in my mind 25, 30, (gasp!) even 40 years to times and places that are as crisp and clear to me as they were then. For our students, nostalgia may mean just last weekend!
As I told you all a while back, several of the teachers at my school went to the Dublin Literacy Conference a few weeks ago, where we heard author Ralph Fletcher. Mr. Fletcher allowed us to be the students that day as he gave us an example of his own poetic and nostalgic style of writing and asked us to try putting our own spin on it. Mr. Fletcher's memory poem began like this:
Sometimes I still remember
the good old days
When we...
and it finished with:
I still can't imagine
anything better than that.
His memory included the wonderful details of a Saturday night, the family preparing for church the next morning by getting all nine children bathed, bedtime cookies and kisses distributed, and each one tucked into bed.
Well, I did put my spin on that pattern, remembering the times when my own family would all pile into the station wagon headed for the drive in movie theater. Sleeping bags in the back and big brown buttery bag of popcorn to share in the dusky summer evening. This week I turned around and fed that pattern to my own students, asking them to try their hand at nostalgia. The results were fantastic!
I've typed too long already and missed my deadline, but here are just a few of their lines that you won't want to miss:
Sometimes I remember
the good old days
When we all pile in the car
and drive to my mom's store
Euro Delicatessen
First I go to the candy section
Later I have a sweet tooth
next is the chocolate section
Chocolate on my chin
the sausages and cheeses are last
We take some salami and gouda
finally my mom would close the store
Goodnight Euro Delicatessen
waiting for the next day to come
I still can't imagine
anything better than that.
Tim S.
~ ~ ~ ~
Sometimes I remember
the good old days
When we swam until we were prunes
Trying not to get our hair wet
Listening to the silliest music
Eating ice cream until it melted in the grass
Swooshing in the sand volleyball courts
Going on roller coasters
Seeing each other everyday
Wishing summer could last forever
I still can't imagine
Anything better than that.
Ally G.
~ ~ ~ ~
There were others that remembered "back in the day" before iphones. Some remembered building forts down by the creek, visiting grandparents after church on Sundays, and taking walks in the park with their family. Some remembered low gas prices. Some remembered earlier in this very school year, when the end of the year didn't seem so close and friends weren't thinking about not seeing each other anymore, and life seemed simpler.
Isn't it amazing, how we all have that sentimental yearning for a former time or place...even if that time or place is just yesterday?
I still can't imagine
anything better than that.
I enjoy writing. I like the way words tumble around in my mind until I group them together on the page. I like jotting lists, making notes, explaining things, symbolizing things, making something small seem important...because it really is important. I like playing with words until they roll off the tongue just the way I want them to when they are read aloud. Most of what I write is true...it's not really non-fiction, but it's not Story. It's just...life.
I have always held a good bit of secret envy in my heart for the author who can write fiction. I've never been good at writing Story. I'm a sucker for reading or listening to or watching Story. I have never NOT finished a book or movie that I have started...I must find out what happens next. I've only ever been tempted to walk out of one movie, but cheap skate that I am, I couldn't bring myself to do that since I had already paid my money. Being the baby of the family, I had to go to bed earlier than anyone else growing up and it very nearly killed me to not know what was going on downstairs! I need to know what happens next.
Books are the same way for me...if I start one, I must finish it. I must find out how all of the loose ends are tied up, even if it is a poorly written tale. I simply must know how it all wraps up. It is part of what make me such a readaholic. I can't stop once I've started. Unfortunately, many times I simply won't start a new book because I know I won't be able to stop. I convince myself that as soon as the dog hair is swept up, the bills are paid, and the laundry is folded, then I will allow myself to read...just one chapter.
Well, heaven help me, I've fallen off the wagon again. In the past three days I've picked up and finished both of the books that I bought "for my clasroom" at the Dublin Literacy Conference a couple of weekends ago, both by Ralph Fletcher. This last one was Marshfield Dreams, a memoir. I just finished it about an hour ago, and long story short, I am now both loving and hating reading in general. This one brought out all of my readaholic tendencies. Let's just say it's a good thing there was a snow day today because I was for sure propping the book open with my phone so I could read while I was drying my hair again, and it's not pretty!
Seriously though, today I could almost go cold turkey and never pick up another book as long as I live. It's just not fair. Put yourself in my place. You innocently crack this one open, thinking to yourself, "I'll give this a shot and see if I can finish it before it's time to do grade cards again in a few weeks. I'll just read one chapter, just one, then I'll sweep the floor, pay the bills, and fold the laundry."
The next thing you know you are on a first name basis with Ralph, Jimmy, Lainie, Tommy, Bobby, Johnny, Joey, and Kathy, not to mention Stephen and Peepers the Roosters, and Beth Aaronburg, who always knows the latest news, good or bad, before you do! You go to the beach with these folks, you ride bikes with them, you tromp through the woods with them finding Mud Puppies and real Indian arrowheads, you play Statue and Hide and Seek and Kick the Can and War. You laugh when they laugh; your tears mingle with their tears. You attend holiday meals, church services, and funerals with them. You ARE them...they ARE you.
And then you turn the page...and...it's over.
Just like that.
They walk right out of your life without so much as a fare thee well and you are left to gaze around the room at the dog hair on the floor, the bills on the counter, and the laundry waiting to be folded.
You know they won't write or call. They won't even send a post card.
They are just gone.
Just like that.
Now what?
You vow to yourself you will never be tricked like that again! Never again will you be sucked in to someone else's troubles or their joys for that matter. No, not you. You will remain aloof. You will separate yourself and rise above all of that emotion stuff. It's just silly...crying over a book. For Pete's sake!
Until you innocently walk into the bedroom to put some laundry away and happen to glance at your bedside stand where last year's Newbery is waiting. Well, that was an award winner. You probably SHOULD read that...I mean, you are a professional after all, and you should be able to discuss the Newbery, shouldn't you?
Sigh...here we go again.
Heaven help me, but today I love fiction.
