Today was another Saturday activity in the English medium at P.R. Khatiwala. This time, the event was a poetry recital competition. I was appointed as a judge for the seventh standard poetry recital, so showed up to the activity hall during first period with a score sheet in hand, prepared to judge the students on five categories: pronunciation, clarity, confidence, subject matter, and rhythm. “Subject matter” was one category I found it difficult to judge—was one subject a better topic than another? I gave them all solid eights in that regard, since good poems can be written on any subject, after all, and the students hadn’t even written their own poems. For the other categories, I assigned appropriate marks out of a possible 10.
Much of the time, I was struggling to hear them. The room was not set up ideally to understand what the students were saying, with the judges off to one side and the participants facing ninety degrees the other way to address the audience. That, plus performance nerves, plus typical pronunciation difficulties, equaled me awkwardly craning my head to hear and trying to shush the people practicing their lines behind me. I recognized a number of the poems as material that is taught in the Gujarati medium, so had a much easier time understanding those participants. The poems I’d never heard before were the ones that gave me a tough time. The tenth and final participant was the conclusive winner, but my fellow judge and I decided to hold run-offs for second and third place.
The competition was allotted two periods to take place, but the students rushed through the poetry, and no one seemed clear on exactly how the time was to be organized. Thus, after the ten participants had finished their brief recitals and we had selected our top three performers, I was asked to “say something” (I love when they spring this on me).
“First, I’d like to thank each and every one of our participants today—they all did a great job. It takes bravery and dedication to participate in something like this, and I know they all worked hard to learn these poems. So give them a hand.” (Applause.)
“Actually, reciting poetry is one of my personal loves. During my time at school, I went to see a number of spoken poetry competitions, and I want to encourage everyone to try to see more if they have the chance. There are professionals who perform poetry on stage and it’s a lot of fun to watch. They use hand motions and act out the words. You can perform poetry that you have written yourself, as well as poetry that you find in books. I also like to perform poetry. So, the next time that you get a chance, I’d like to see more people participate in a poetry recital. It can be a lot of fun.”
I thought it would be important to let the kids know that you don’t just have to recite poetry that others write; you can recite poetry that YOU have written, also. (I can’t stress creativity enough, since it’s always glossed over in the curriculum.) The final participant of the day had the right idea and brought some good enthusiasm to his performance, but the rest of the kids seemed to approach it as something dull and mechanical, so I tried to stress that poetry can really be fun.
I wish I’d been prepared with something appropriate that I’d written that I could recite to them, because I was then asked to recite a short poem myself! Since I’d just taught “The Owl and the Pussycat” to my 6th Standard in the Gujarati medium, that was what sprang to mind, so I did a stanza of that, while miming “looking up the stars above” and “singing to a small guitar.” They all knew the poem, at least, so that probably made it easier to understand for them as well!
Afterward, the winners were announced, and the recital wound to a close—one full period early. This meant that I was to take up class 7-C, who had no activity scheduled for this period of time.
Well, then. Perfect time to try to get them to write their own poetry.
“Alright, you’ve just finished a poetry recital competition, so now you’re all ready to read poetry out loud, right?”
I was slightly floored when I was actually greeted with a chorus of “Yes,
Ma’am!”s. 7-C is a rambunctious class that I tend to have trouble getting motivated. Besides a couple of consistent class leaders, the class’s favorite past-time is being noisy.
“Great. Then right now we’re going to write our own poetry. First, we need to think of a topic.”
I wrote the word “topics” on the board, and got them to give me ideas about subjects we could write a poem about. I got “picnic,” “butterfly,” “the night,” “day,” “the forest,” “God,” and a few others. Most students sat bored during the voting, but everyone seemed most enthusiastic about “the forest,” so I erased the rest of the topics and wrote that big at the top of the board.
“Okay, now, if we want to write a rhyming poem, we need to think of words that rhyme that might have to do with the forest.”
The class pointed me toward one boy who had participated in the poetry recital, who stood up hesitantly. "He recited the poem about the forest!" they told me.
"I don't want to hear a poem you read, though. I want to hear your own ideas." In response to their blank looks, I relented: “Okay, I’ll start,” and wrote “waterfall” and “tall” on the board. “See, waterfall and tall are words that might be used to talk about the forest, and they rhyme. What are some others?” A few hands shot up.
“Tree and free!”
“Shade and head.”
“Stone and throne.”
“Cat and mat.”
The class protested. “Cat and mat aren’t about a forest!”
“Well, maybe not, but maybe it can work. There could be a mat of leaves,” I said, and wrote it on the board anyway, not wanting to stop anyone’s ideas.
“Sun and gun.”
I paused at that one, not sure that gun was the best idea to introduce into the poem, but wrote it on the board as well. It could work.
“Feeds and seeds!”
“Okay, I think this is enough,” I said, writing the last pair on the board. Now, see if you can come up with some sentences that tie the words together.
One student was on his feet immediately. Impressed at the quick up-take, I called on him.
“There is a waterfall which is very tall!”
I repeated his phrase, making sure the class heard it. “Does it make sense and is it about a forest?”
“Yes!” they called, so I wrote it on the board.
“Next pair,” I announced, and again was greeted with a quick response.
“Oh, tree, you are so free!”
“Okay, fine,” I said. “Now the person in the poem is talking to the tree, right? He says to the tree, ‘Oh, tree, you are so free!’ Do you agree? Does it make sense?” The class approved, so that went on the board also.
“You give shade to my head!”
“Great. We’re still talking to the tree, so it makes sense.” Onto the board.
“Next pair: stone and throne.”
There was a slight pause at this one.
“There was a stone which was thrown,” said one student.
I repeated the sentence. “Okay, maybe that works. Does anyone else have some ideas?”
“The stone had been thrown.” Well, at least they were getting the past-tense correct.
Then one girl was waving her hand in the air and calling at me.
“Yes?”
“The frog sat on the stone like a throne!”
“Great,” I approved. “What do you think?” I addressed the class. “This gives
us a nice image of a scene we might see in a forest, and the stone is being compared to a throne, so we know how the frog is sitting on it. Which sentence do you want to use?”
“Number three!” they all agreed.
Next up was cat and mat.
“The cat sat on the mat.”
“Fine sentence, but does it happen in a forest?”
“No,” was the consensus.
Someone remembered what I had said earlier and tried, “The cat sat on a mat
of leaves.”
“Good, but does leaves rhyme with cat?”
Again, no. I let them try a few more ideas, and then suggested, “Should we leave this pair out?”
Great idea! Now that we knew it wouldn't work, we could leave it out. Next up was sun and gun, another tricky pair. But the same girl who had suggested the frog on the throne was ready right away:
“The sun is firing a gun!”
I paused. “The sun is firing a gun. Do you mean son like a person or sun like” I pointed up “the sun?”
“Like the sun,” she affirmed, pointing up also.
“Okay… good,” I said. “She’s given us an interesting sentence because it
uses a metaphor.” Metaphor was something I had tried to teach this class before but wasn’t sure if they had completely grasped. “Can the sun really fire a gun?” The class agreed it could not. “So by saying that it fires a gun we’re using a metaphor. We know it can’t shoot a gun, but it still gives us some idea of how the sun’s rays must feel—they must be very hot and painful, like the sun is shooting at us!” The girl nodded happily—I had understood.
“Can you think of any other sentences?” I gave them a minute to think.
“The sun is shooting its rays like a gun.”
“Okay, that’s another good sentence. This one uses a simile because it uses the word ‘like,’” I told them.
We settled on the first one, wrote it on the board, and turned to our last pair: feeds and seeds.
“The horse feeds on the seeds!”
“Okay, good. But do we see a horse in a forest?”
“Yes!” he emphasized.
“Well, maybe. Someone could be riding a horse through the forest. What else might we be likely to see in a forest?”
I got elephant and squirrel and asked them which they thought they would be most likely to see: a horse, an elephant, or a squirrel. Squirrel it was.
“We want the poem to connect, so we can add a connecting word between these two sentences and say, ‘The sun is firing a gun while the squirrel feeds on the seeds.’ Make sense?”
The class agreed, so I wrote it on the board and—voila!—we had a complete poem right as the bell rang.
“Who’s the author??” they all called out. “Dalena Ma’am??”
“No, no, not me! You: 7-C!”
I wrote “by 7-C” underneath the poem.
“Okay, who wants to read it out loud?” I asked. Hands shot up and I called on a girl in the first row who recited it excitedly.
“Copy it into your notebooks. Maybe we can make it into a poster and put it on the wall,” I told them, quickly writing it down for myself.
It was still a bit rough, but no matter. At last, they had a real creation from their own imaginations!
The Forest
There is a waterfall
Which is very tall.
Oh, tree,
You are so free!
You give shade
To my head.
The frog sits on the stone
Like a throne.
The sun
Is firing a gun
While the squirrel feeds
On the seeds.
- 7-C
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