Poetry is a Part of Life

Poetry. Some hate it but I have a slight weakness for it. I am a bit of a closet romantic so of course I love poetry. When I was younger my Mom always read poetry to my brother and I so I have grown up with an appreciation for words on a page. My Mom read us Robert Frost's The Road Less Travelled. You know "two roads diverged in a yellow and I, I took the road less travelled by, and that has made all the difference"? I love this poem and many others like The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe and The Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll and anything by the classic Dr Seuss. In addition to loving traditional poetry I also love how poems can easily be converted into songs. Many of Taylor Swift's award winning tunes are love and heartbreak poems put to music. The emotions poured out into poems are the same as the emotions used to write a song. I think the reason I like poetry so much is because of my love of music. I also enjoy nature poetry. I like the way a writer can capture a fall day in to a few sentences. After they write it, the magic moment is captured forever and there is something wonderful about that. So overall I do enjoy poetry of all kinds :)

After reading these poems I noticed that the writer does a great job of using out of the ordinary describing words. In stead of saying "a serpent splitting the air" she adds the idea of a large amount of effort by writing "a serpent muscling air apart". She plays on the idea of the bats being a sheer force and fighting the sky for entry. I really liked her use of descriptive words in the poems.

A question I would ask is "how long does it take you to write a typical poem?" Some people think that you can slap something down on paper and that is your final product but I firmly believe in editing and re-editing work before it can be complete. I just want to her her opinion on the topic.

I am very excited for this unit to begin and I can't wait to start writing poetry!

Ta ta class!!! Off to edit my short story :P

~Rachel

Those who can’t do teach, and those who can’t teach, teach gym?

             I want to teach gym. Yes, it’s true. I want to stand in a stinky gym for the rest of my life! People say it’s stupid and that I should do something else with my life. “You’re smart,” they say, “you could do anything”.

That’s the thing. I don’t want to do anything else. I love the smell of the gym, the sound of a ball bounding on a hardwood floor, and the fact that it is the only subject that allows kinaesthetic learners, like me, to be full immersed in a school activity. I love the interactions in the “classroom”, the outlet for a bad day, and the unique relationship that forms between a teen and a Phys. Ed teacher.

When I graduate from university I want to head right back to school. I will get the opportunity to interact with the adults of tomorrow everyday, I will get to share my love for sports and fitness with others and above all, I love that I could wear sweats to work and no one would care.

In addition to teaching, I also plan on coaching as many seasons as I can. I hope to coach volleyball, track, and maybe soccer and field hockey. These sports are the ones that really interest me. I love the smack of the volleyball as it sails over the net and crashes into the floor, I love the arc of the javelin as it soars into the sky after hurtling down the runway, I love the throw-in that releases a player for a break away and the goalie that sacrifices their body to save the game, and I love the crack of the field hockey stick as it contacts the ball and drives it far down into the opposing circle.

Sports are my passion. They are a huge part of what make me tick and I am so thankful for the coaches who shared their passions with me to make me the person I am. I want the opportunity to share my love of athletics with a student and maybe shape them into the person they will become in the future. So yes, I want to teach and yes, I want to teach gym!

A Horrible Entrance

Sarah's palms grew slippery as Jack started walking towards her. Her pulse started pounding like a herd of wild water buffalo and her underarms were dripping like leaky faucets. He leaned close and wetly whispered in her ear with flecks of spittle hitting her in the neck. His hot, cheese scented breath said those three life changing, earth shattering words that a girl just begs to hear: "Check your fly".