Viva, Japan!

As those of you who participated in Month of Poetry know, I owe a debt of gratitude to Japan for not only writing material, but also a way of seeing the world – a change in heart. During Month of Poetry, I found my voice in writing poetic memoir, much of it about experiences I had during the ten years I lived in Tokyo.

About a month ago, a tweet led me to this blog post titled No-divorce expat: a mixed identity becomes permanent . The article struck me motionless for a while after I read it. Much of my identity revolves around my life experiences, especially those of living abroad. My outlook is more global and much less regional than they were previous to those formative years. I still don’t separate myself from the places I have lived or the people I have met.

So the news of earthquake, tsunami, and radiation have had me glued to news feeds. Worrying about the folk I know there. Wishing them well. I’ve written nothing, but encouraging emails and inquiries. Mostly, I’ve been paralyzed.

Undoubtedly you have seen plenty of venues for donating to humanitarian aid for Japan. Many of our children’s literature colleagues have started fundraisers to entice us to participate. By all means do donate, do volunteer.

For those who have watched in horror and need to feel some hope, I’d recommend having a look at Deborah Davidson’s blog Etegami by Dosanko Debbie. She has done a wonderful job of turning her own concerns into a healing, cultural experience in “Humanizing the Earthquake” posts. Not only that, but her whole site is a joy to the eyes. Her paintings are lovely.

  

Looking through my MoP poetry, I could find only one poem which I thought might be appropriate to share at this time. We have heard much of sharing despite the devastation. The gracious willingness to share despite scarcity is what ultimately, will get Japan through this crisis. We see it in the many stories filtering their way to us. Viva, Japan. My prayers are with you.

Mikan

I took a trip to Sado-gashima

All by myself

In winter

rather brave I thought

I had been there before

but never in the snow

at least I knew the road to take

and how to catch a bus.

A snowy day in winter

the cold wind blew in from Russia

I could feel it age my face

More than a wrinkle or two

As I waited at a bus stop

under an awning

in a rice field

I watched the lazy sight

of a hawk loop through the sky.

Before long three village women

wearing mompei and indigo scarves

came and settled on the bench

right next to me.

They didn’t want to stare

but they had seldom seen a white one

except on the tv

and that really didn’t count.

One woman, much braver

than her hesitant companions

turned and faced me

held out a mikan

round and pocked and shiny bright

she offered it to me

I thanked her greatly

which surprised her

more than a little

I could speak her native tongue

Next I knew they had exploded

questions flew through the frost air

Where I came from?

How I got there?

Why would I attempt the trip?

Once they could

they were only happy

to start a conversation

with this wild, strange foreigner.

When the bus came

we all boarded

they insisted that I go first

We sat together

eating mikans

until their stop came

but I stayed on

When they left me

they left the mikans

and the golden memories

of their gracious gifts

Nurturing Feedback Update

It seems like as soon as you have a concept in your mind you start seeing it all around you. You paid a lot for that designer dress thinking it was so unique, but look around and you’ll see it everywhere. When money is at stake this phenomenon holds little charm, but when it is about self-improvement it is delightful.

A tweep (twitter friend for those not in the know) posted a link to Erica Johnson’s blogpost “Are You Well-Versed in Comment Etiquette?”

I enjoyed reading the article and would have posted a comment had I gotten there before the comments closed. Johnson clearly stated something I have been thinking about lately - feedback is about community building.

I started blogging out of curiosity about the technology, what it could do and how it could be used in education. Later as I started realizing how much I enjoy writing I read about online promotion. We have all heard about how building an online platform is essential for the writer/artist/librarian/educator/human being. We have all heard that the way to increase comments on your blog is to comment on the blogs of others.

Sure, it works. Commenting on blogs does get your name out there and people are more likely to comment. Seriously though, starting the feedback challenge for myself I was not thinking about attracting comments. (Not to say that I don’t care. They’ve been delightful, so keep them coming.) Honestly, I was thinking more about the opportunity for personal growth that comes through engagement.

In public education we expect this of our students. We don’t want them to just be passive receptacles of information. We want them to actually be able to apply what they have learned. We hear about engagement, the application to a product, synthesis. I say this every day. I work with colleagues to provide this to our students. It takes time and effort, but we know that this is valuable to our students.

Why would I not want that for myself?

So far my effort to engage more fully in the conversation have paid off. I find that I am making more connections between the information I am consuming and I find the conversations are more satisfying. I have always been the type of person would prefers intimate dinner parties with a few select friends with interesting stories to tell than cocktail parties where you meet many, but learn little. Giving increased feedback seems to lead me in that direction. 

Classical Children’s Lit Malady

I have always loved the classic children’s works written by the likes of Louisa May Alcott, Frances Hodgson Burnett, L. M. Montgomery and their contemporaries. I love the films bringing them to life, especially if they have Shirley Temple in them.

So I have never found it easy to hear someone talk about Scarlet Fever as a treatable, curable malady. The very words bring about visions of sick rooms, drawn bed clothes, the solemn ticking of a grandfather clock and shadows.

A few weeks ago I was exposed to Scarlet Fever. Last week I battled a serious bout of strep throat. This morning I awoke covered in red dots.

After a trip to the doctor, I have been given flight clearance to mingle as much as I want. The course of antibiotics make me safe to be around whether I have a case of Scarlet Fever or an allergy to the medication.

Still, I find the scenes from children’s literature, the classic and its poorer cousin, dance wildly in my head. The drawings of Edward Gorey taunt me and make me want to have that chocolate bar instead of resisting. Life is short and all that.

Children’s literature can uplift, inspire and inform. These old images, however, are not helping me put this into perspective. On the other hand, seen in a providential light, the images so skillfully wrought by our writing predecessors serve not only to make me wary, but also to incite gratitude. Looking back on the works of the foremothers of children’s literature, I can feel inspired by the deftly written story. At the same time, I am grateful yet again that I live in this time. Grateful for the present of a world in which scarlet fever need not be written in capital letters or dealt with in fear. Grateful for a world in which there is the medication to treat the malady.  Very importantly, I am grateful for the fact that I have health insurance.

The Nature of Feedback and Nurturing Feedback Challenge

A number of years ago I entered my sour cream coffee cake in the county fair. I took home a second place ribbon that year with comments written on the back which have delighted me ever since. Whenever someone tries to entice me to don my apron and take up a spatula to make one they refer to it as “your award winning coffee cake.” I’m a sucker for that. Nothing like a little affirmation as a catalyst for motivation.

The online challenges I have participated in over the past 18 months are part of the reason I am thinking about the nature of feedback. Part of the allure of these challenges is the feedback. The opportunity to have others share your work and comment upon it is not only helpful, but also motivating.

During Month of Poetry, fondly referred to as MoP, this year I truly understood how I needed that kind of community. It was the catalyst for me to go out and find myself a writer’s critique group. While not comfortably settled in one yet, I am definitely working towards that goal.

While writing is something done for the self, there is also a communal aspect to the experience. The presence of a reader makes it so.

During MoP I received a great deal of support from poets from across the globe. The motivation to keep at it was provided by the forum, the structure and the feedback of others. Without feedback, without knowing that someone was reading and commenting, I find that one of my many projects takes over. I haven’t written a single poem since MoP finished.

So I am looking to join or create that sort of space for myself on a local, physical level. The time is full. This is the season for this thread in my life.

That got me thinking. When I neglect to provide feedback on something I read, I am depriving the author or artist of that support. I am receiving, but not supporting when I go away silently inspired.

I was mulling over the nature of feedback in a social media environment when I came across an article by Jane Friedman on her blog for Writer’s Digest. As always, Jane wrote a thought provoking post.

Still, my own thoughts nagged at me. The amount of information available to us means that we can never stay on top of it all. We try though, don’t we? Personally that translates into an almost feverish chase, clicking on articles, getting inspiration, “liking” or “retweeting” them. Perhaps I’ll amend the tweet with a “must read” or “brilliant.” While I do feel that social media has benefitted me greatly, I also feel that the nature of my interaction with others has changed greatly. Instead of reflecting and responding to much of what I read, I am now tending to read, acknowledge and move on to the next. While that puts me in contact with others, I do not become truly part of the conversation that way.

My comments tend to be quick blasts, sent from my iPhone. Twitter allows me to make use of those “stolen moments” – waiting in the doctor’s office, in the grocery line, waiting for my car service. It also allows me to disengage from unpleasant thoughts in useless moments. It provides a useful distraction while improving my mind and allowing me to keep in greater contact with the world around me. These are not times for composing long, thoughtful comments. My thumbs are getting enough of a workout already.

Still, while hopefully we blog and network and tweet because there is something intrinsically positive about the experience itself, a large portion of the joy is in the dialogue. I find, like a skinflint, that I’ve been tightfisted with my feedback.

These musing have led me to determine that during the month of March I am going to flex my feedback muscles.

Nurturing Feedback Challenge

March 2011

1. Except for retweets on Twitter, I plan to eschew the one word comment.
2. This month I will increase the number of comments I leave. 
3. I will try to leave more than a comment indicating that I liked what I have read. I will include information about why I liked it, what it made me think, how it benefited me, thoughts that spring to mind related to what I am seeing.
4. I will slow down and think about what I am reading and express my thanks to the author.When appropriate, I will provide a relevant link, a nugget of my own experience that is supportive or a nod of understanding.
5. I will keep track of my thoughts and experiences this month to see what effect this challenge has on my social networking experiences.

I don’t mind company. If you want to join me, I’d love to have you along for the ride.

Other Thinking Chairs

I gave plenty of thought to where I am most creative during the month of November. Spurred to reflection by Dana Cary’s post about her “thinking chair” I made my own chair complete with floral print quilt and tassled, fuzzy, pink throw. The time I spent in that chair was highly productive (and sometimes relaxing), but I discovered that I have several other, more public thinking spots. These are places I go to write. Places where my mess doesn’t come along and taunt me. Places where the dishes are for someone else to worry about. Places where I am virtually alone.

I love writing in coffee shops and tea rooms. I don’t drink coffee, preferring tea in a tea cup, if possible. I am fortunate to have found a quiet one where I go almost every week to write. Those around me can tell if I missed my weekly sojourn because I’m grumpier than usual and out of sorts. The view is marvelous.

Libraries are another place I love to go write. There is usually a spot where I can spread out far more than I need to. The best thing, though, is that there are none of those piles of paper distracting me. Just me and a clear table space. That makes for ease of concentration.

I try to keep my desk clean. Really, I do. But there are the receipts to go through, the new Booklist and Horn Book Magazines, scraps of paper with curriculum ideas and cords from various electronic gadgets. There is usually a pile of books to review and a bag of books to return to my public library. I’ll forgive the public librarian if her or his desk looks like the one I have at home. I won’t bat an eyelash if it’s a tripping zone in the back office. Keep a table clear in the reference section or tucked away in a corner for me, though, and I’ll be your friend forever. 

Poetic Month of January

There goes my resolve to be more consistent in blog posting this year. January was a month full of writing, poetry, new friends and shoveling snow. I spent most of my free time at Australian children’s book author Kat Apel’s Month of Poetry. The challenge was to write a poem and post it every day. Sorry, you can’t see it as it is password protected, but you can put Month of Poetry on your calendar for January 2012 if you like.

What did making the commitment to writing a piece of poetry a day do for me? Tons. I started listening to words and feeling how they felt as I said them. I started listening to conversations with an eye for how words fit together. My eye became tuned to the small details about every day things. That was in the first week. Somewhere around the middle of the month I wrote a poem which surprised and delighted me. It was not the kind of poem I meant to write in January. I had meant to write short, fun and kid oriented poems – maybe one which could be turned into a picture book. On that day in the middle of the month I wrote a poetic memoir and found that my stories were new to me. Very different from recording them in prose or telling them in person, these poetic memoirs helped me to see the small details in my experiences in a new way. I didn’t write much of anything else for the rest of the month. That’s ok with me. I know for a fact that I wouldn’t have gotten to that place without the discipline.

Beyond the action of writing a poem a day, it was a wonderful writing group. They were very supportive and helpful. Inspiration came daily in the form of other people’s writing. I made new writer buddies from Australia as well as stateside.

What can I as a teacher librarian get from this experience? I find I’m tackling poetry more in my daily teaching. Today I spent time with a kindergarten class learning the difference between rhyming and alliteration. Will they all remember and get it right now? No. I have no illusions, but they did improve their ability during our class. I find that writing and especially the care with which you choose words when writing poetry has helped me be clearer with directions. It has also helped me to appreciate the writing process that our young students must learn. 

It was a great month!

Mock Caldecott Reflections

I’ve had some time to reflect on the process of running a Mock Caldecott group. Through that reflection I’ve come up with some things I would change if I for next time. It seems like this might be one of the most important things to share with others who are starting their own groups. Knowing the pitfalls is actually one of the more valuable things to know. We can all dream big. We can’t all see what snags we are going to get tripped up on.

When the results of Mock Caldecotts across the country came rolling, I found that there is actually a book about hosting this kind of event. Before I do this again I’d like to get my hands on a copy of Newbery and Caldecott Mock Elections by Kathleen Simonetta, Nancy Hackett and Linda Ward-Callaghan (ALSC, 2001) I’ve also discovered that Library Sparks had an article in January 2004 called The Peasleecott: A Mock Caldecott Unit written by Nancy Keller. I’d also like to get my hands on that article.

Things that didn’t work as planned and should be changed:

1. The length of time it takes to read and evaluate a book should be looked at. I did not anticipate how carefully our participants would view each book and contemplate the features. This was good, but we did not start out offering them an appropriate amount of reward for their effort.

2. Going along with number one, adjusting the number of books to review and the schedule for that.

3. Rethink whether it would make more sense to make this a weekly meeting. While I felt that offering the group in a flexible format would be easier to manage, people seemed to have more difficulty with that. Sometimes having a set meeting time can be easier. Sometimes it is easier to leave an important task to go to a scheduled meeting than it is to leave it to do something that is perceived of as “having fun.” When that happens, the fun factor decreases and guilt takes over. Perhaps this could be run as a graduate class to pair the reward with the amount of effort required to be an active member.

Things that would add to the program:

1. Provide posters on the library wall featuring successful renditions of various techniques.

2. Along with the examples of successful techniques, the actual tools and techniques would be a plus

3. Vocabulary posted on the wall to go with the posters above. This would help with identification as well as writing prompts for students.

Management items to tweek:

1. Start keeping a database in January. Adding to it each month would make it possible to keep on top of it later in the year and have more time for reading the books.

2. Differentiate between reviews and starred reviews.

3. Make sure to get a copy of ALL the starred reviewed books early on.

4. If I start previewing books at the beginning of the year, some of the titles that are not contenders can be weeded out in advance and we can focus on the best. This would include finding those books with illustrators who are not eligible for the medal.

5. Make decisions about offering the class earlier in the year so that people can plan their activities for the season. Most of our people really wanted to do it so they participated on top of a heavy load of activities. It would have been easier for them if they had known in May.

6. Come up with a list of refreshments in advance. While it may seem an insignificant thing, I find that creating a festive environment for the project makes people buy into it in a different, more joyous way. This yields more results than one might think.

I'm already scanning the book reviews for next time around and dreaming of other ways I can improve this program.