Here’s a video poem I made for a presentation on issues in standardized testing for my Faculty of Education Master’s class on assessment at University of British Columbia (Okanagan campus) (aka UBC-O).
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poem- opinion twist April 22, 2014
I thought
t’was so simple:
It’s not like that;
It’s like this.
But I’m reading
and discovering,
there’s information
I’ve missed.
It’s quite a bit
like that, surely
but it’s also
like this.
That’s a problem
with learning
one cannot dismiss,
Neither black, nor white,
it’s one
great
grey
abyss!
poem- offering March 12, 2014
You bring your words to me
an offering
held in your open palms
like a supplicant.
I meet your fearful eyes
and tell you of your strengths,
coach through your weaknesses,
and encourage your improvement,
as gently as I can.
You reward me with your laughter,
a sound so rare that I am still celebrating
hours later,
so thankful
to be your teacher,
and have the chance to watch
your talent turn you into the
accomplished person
you will be.
poem- choose pink December 7, 2013
“No, honey!” the mother said
reaching across that table and plucking
a crayon from her daughter’s hand.
“The sky isn’t pink. Here,
use this blue crayon.”
The little girl blinked tears.
The teacher leaned over,
and studied the picture.
“What a beautiful sunset
you’ve drawn!” she said.
.
.
For Charlotte, who is teaching crafts at the art gallery, and is amazed at some parents.
poem- lessons October 25, 2013
When my dad went to school
he knew the Brother would beat him.
The ruler would rap down across
his small knuckles
once for every spelling mistake.
He knew he’d always make a mistake.
He knew he’d be beaten.
It didn’t make him study,
it just made him drag his feet
on the way to school,
meant education was painful
meant inadequacy
and brutality
were part of every day.
It didn’t make him speed up
that he’d be whipped
for tardiness
either.
During lessons,
he watched boys fly
across the room
propelled by the fury
of the Christian Brothers
who didn’t understand
much about children,
faith
kindness
or the golden rule.
Dad kept his head down,
nursed sore
knuckles and learned
how not to treat children.
.
.
Happy Birthday to my dad, who celebrates his 99th birthday today!
One more year until the official greeting from the Queen!
PS. Dad attended parochial school in Montreal in the 1920s.
poem- lesser children September 21, 2013
For Max
.
They come
each year
the lesser children:
intelligence
lesser
body
lesser
behaviour
lesser
abilities
lesser
esteem
lesser
You look upon each one
and tell him
he is more
she is more
Be the best
because
you are the best!
You say it
and you mean it
and bit by bit
what was lesser
grows
and they believe
they are more
than their weaknesses
they are more
than society’s expectation
they are more
than their labels
They drink your words
lips tightly closed at first
but sip by sip they are filled
until they swim in the belief
that they can
be
their best.
They leave
greater
children
Because you
believe
they are.
exam time June 19, 2013
The sky drips
its soggy sorrow
on students
walking into exams.
They step
out of white hazes
in expectation
(or desperation).
The sky drips
on their satisfaction
of consummation
and their sighs
of celebration
for coming
graduation.
graduate school: it’s in the mail! February 24, 2013
I love learning. I like researching and writing papers. I like developing programs and evaluating them. I like coming up with innovative ways of doing things. I love the satisfaction of successfully meeting a challenge. In short, I’m a nerd.
This also means, I probably should have applied for grad school years ago. It was first suggested to me by a teaching assistant in a Women’s History course I did back about 1989. At the time, in a one income household with a toddler and baby, it was just something to sigh about and say, “Some day…”
I did apply for an extremely competitive Creative Writing program at an eminent university two years running. They have very, very low acceptance rate, but I figured, “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” As it happened, I received the second rejection the same day I got my first royalty cheque from Grace, and somehow that told me that it didn’t matter. Most people enter that program so they can get a royalty cheque. I was ahead without them. I will continue to develop those skills working with amazing authors, attending conferences, reading, and being challenged by my editor and friend, Vikki.
I still want to learn though, and I want the credential, because it will open other opportunities. Today I dropped two grad school applications in the mail. Ideally, I’m going explore the Finnish education system and how it can be adapted for use in B.C. I’ll focus on some sort of curriculum development, either in the traditional class room or via distance learning. Both options offer all sorts of exciting prospects, so I’m eager to see where I’ll end up.
Should I confess that my biggest fear is that if I end up in a program that requires weekend study, that it will impact the May 2014 weekend when Diana Gabaldon will come to be presenter at the Shuswap Association of Writers’ Word on the Lake Festival of Writers and Readers? The grad school will have to do without me that weekend, as I’ve already booked it off! My kids aren’t allowed to get married that weekend either. I have my priorities.
And how should I celebrate this new adventure? Some would raise a drink with friends, or take their honey out for dinner. I’m celebrating with new Vogs, culled from the collection of the ultimate Vogger, Rebecca in Winnipeg.
Welcome to the family Fluevog Second Miracle Cascades… (See if you can find them in the group photo of Rebecca’s shoes, in the link above!)
Finnish education February 17, 2013
There is now a benefit to my educational experience to speak Finnish! This is what I hope to focus on in my MEd.
learning, looking back, and moving on October 29, 2012
My father asked me tonight if I’d learned anything at ‘that conference’ I went to, and whether I would change anything from my last books as a result.
No.
So it’s perfect, as it is?
Yes, Dad. It’s as perfect as I could make it. I went to the conference for the NEXT book. All the workshops I picked were about the next project.
A little while later he tried again, trying to convince me that I didn’t understand his initial question. Wouldn’t I change things, if I was starting over now?
No. The book is what it needed to be.
He sighed, sure that I wasn’t getting his point.
I know he didn’t get mine.
Every day you’d write a different book. Every day your words are new.
You can’t look back. The last project is finished.
There is no point writing if you’re not trying to write the best book you can, at the time.
There’s not point thinking about what you should/could/would do once it’s out, though. Once it’s in the publisher’s hands, it’s no longer yours to fret over. It’s gone. It has its own life. It makes its own connections with readers.
Luckily, Grace is doing just fine. I don’t have to worry about ways I may have failed her. I poured the best I had into her world. It’s done. She’s being well received. Is she perfect? Well, probably not. But she’s as perfect as I could make her at the time, which means, Yes. She is.
It’s like raising children. You do the best you can, and then you send them out into the world. If your personal imperfections cause trouble for your kids as adults, there’s no point beating yourself up about it, or even contemplating what you could have done differently. You did the best you could at the time, and now you have to look toward the future and doing even better.
Behind us lies the way of madness. There can be no room for regret, only moving forward, to become the best we can be for the next project. We learn to improve for the future, not to improve the past.
Past perfect 🙂
Shawn L. Bird 