Today was a day where I needed a reminder to hold on to hope. Explosions at the Boston Marathon. How does one even begin to process that? How do you even contemplate how that could be a target? So, I changed up the more friviolous spine poem I had in the queue and went for an old one from last year, and a new one I'd done on a whim. Both are about holding on to hope. Sometimes, that's all you can do.
 
 
 
Inspired by (ripped from?) a song by Fort Atlantic, "Let your heart hold fast" - from How I Met Your Mother. Love the lyrics, so naturally they're all I can think of when I see the title "Hold Fast."
 
 
Obviously, I'm partial to librarians, but teachers are amazing people, too. Since the month of April, as I posted at least one spine poem a day to Facebook, I've had a lot of comments from - and conversations with - people telling me how they've taken the idea and used it in classrooms and libraries. While it's been satisfying to see people trying poems of their own, I have truly been blown away by the ingenious ways people have used these "poems" to inspire and teach students.

Some examples:

Kinesthetic Learners
A friend who's just finishing Teacher's College wrote: "Your spine poems are the best!! They make me smile. I wonder if this would be a good way to get kids into poetry? It's like a combination of playing with blocks and creative writing." I hadn't thought of the kinesthetic learners in all of this, but it makes perfect sense. It speaks to the tactile learner, because you physically have to move the books around to get it just right. And for those who don't feel creative? You don't have to come up with the words, just connect them. It's pretty easy to have fun doing it this way, especially with picture books. Which means that I see it as a great way to get kids interacting with books in general, not just poetry. Works on all kinds of levels!

Narrative Skills
Another friend who works with Kindergarten kids, among other grades, told me she had shown some of the poems to the elementary students. At first, I was like, "huh?" It made sense to share them with high school students, but younger than that? But she had used the two that were based on fairy tales, and the nursery rhyme one would work, too. She used them to show how  you can tell and re-tell a story simply by using the narrative elements and hitting the big parts of the story. I hadn't thought of that. What a great way to have children identify the big picture ideas, and not have to get bogged down in spelling or vocabulary of the smaller words. Expressing ideas. Isn't that the main point of writing, after all?

An intro to the library
While one friend pointed out that letting a whole class loose in the library to make spine poems would create a nightmare for whoever has to re-shelve the books, there is at least one school where the librarian is brave enough to try it. From a high-school teacher friend: "FYI the spine poetry got a lot of cool comments from the adults I showed to as well. Our librarian decided to try that next year for the intro to the library we do with the 9s. She'll challenge them to make a poem thus getting them interacting with the books right away. Also planning to display some of our books like that on a regular basis."


So, while I have used the concept of spine poetry as a creative outlet for some rather self-centred angst, others have taken it and used it as a way to change the world, because they used it to reach their students.

Teachers totally rock.

 
 
Easier said than done
 
Wishes and wishing are usually seen in a positive light. Very inspirational. Hopeful. Like dreaming.

But ... they're also passive. Wishing takes away all control and responsibility. It's a little bit like believing in magic. Cinderella was a dreamer and a wisher, but she could have walked away from her evil stepmother at any time. Maybe even have met her prince without the help of a fairy godmother. Who knows?

Wishing perpetuates unhappiness, I think. You can't  possibly be happy with what you have, where you are, or who you are with, if you're wishing for something else. What if you didn't wish for anything and were just happy with here and now?