Welcome to Day 4 of the February Open Write. If you have written with us before, welcome back. If you are joining us for the first time, you are in the kind, capable hands of todayās host, so just read the prompt below and then, when you are ready, write in the comment section below. We do ask that if you write, in the spirit of reciprocity, you respond to three or more writers. To learn more about the Open Write, clickĀ here.
Our Host
Britt lives in Houston, Texas where she writes, reads, laughs, and learns alongside brilliant 10th graders. She began participating in writing communities in 2020 and has discovered the powerhouse poets of the monthly Open Writes. When Britt isn’t in the classroom or writing in her notebook, you can find her drinking black coffee and discussing educational inequities with her husband while simultaneously wrangling her two toddlers.
Inspiration
When my mom ever traveled anywhere without me, sheād return with little trinkets and, almost always, a T-shirt. It was usually a T-shirt with the name of the city or something related to books (like the one below that she bought at a literacy conference).
When my husband, Kyle, started attending History teacher conferences in Washington, heād buy me shirts like these:
Last school year, my teacher bestie gifted me an āEducated Latinaā shirt for my birthday, and to celebrate the end of the school year, she gifted us the āTeacher Squadā shirts. These shirts prompted funny conversations amongst students, like, āyāall be careful.. No skipping. Lady Deckerās got eyes EVERYWHERE with the squad watchinā us!ā
When I discovered Latina-owned businesses selling shirts like the ones below, I started intentionally purchasing to support small and/or minority owned businesses and wearing them with pride.Ā
I love the story a T-shirt can tell. Iām fascinated by the connection we can make with others with a simple shirt, or the statement we can make based on the words we choose to wear.
Process
1. Grab a shirt from your closet with a quote, saying, phrase, or picture
2. Write a poem in any form inspired by your selected shirt
3. If acquired when traveling, consider incorporating the memory
4. If acquired as a gift, consider incorporating your relationship to that person
5. *For fun: If you’re willing and able to post a picture, please do!
Britt’s Poem
I kept colleagues at a
d i s t a n c e
Work and home need
boundaries
These three wormed their
way into my classroom,
into my phone,
into my happy hour,
into my home
When the days are long,
when the load feels too much,
the squad lifts me up
with notes, with coffee, with belly laughs,
with presence and understanding
Your Turn
Now, scroll to the comment section below to write your own poem. (This is a public space, so you may choose to use only your first name or initials depending on your privacy preferences.) Not ready? That’s okay. Read the poems already posted for more inspiration. Ponder your own throughout the day. Return later. And, if the prompt does not work for you, that is fine. All writing is welcome. Just write something. Also, please be sure to respond to at least three writers. Oh, and a note about drafting: Since we are writing in short bursts, we all understand (and even welcome) the typos and partial poems that remind us we are human and that writing is always becoming. If you’d like to invite other teachers to write with us, tell them to subscribe.
Britt, I didn’t realize how many t-shirts I had until I just took inventory. Your poem is awesome! I love how you were resistant to colleagues as friends but then at the end they become your support, especially on those tough days. Mine’s about a t-shirt a friend sent me as I started my teaching career and she decided to pursue something else after teaching for 2 or 3 years.
America Needs Teachers
teaching is
scripted and improvised
teaching is
science and art
teaching is
tough and kind
teaching is
old and new
teaching is
extending and contracting
teaching is
compliance and rebellion
teaching is
tearing down and constructing up
teaching is
planned spontaneity
teaching is
hardly easy
but
America Needs Teachers
like
you and me.
Rachelle, you offer a clear picture of the cruel beauty that is our glorious, chosen profession. You are right – America needs us, whether they show it or not! Thank you for the way you beautifully shared tonight āŗļø
Rachelle,
I’m so glad you stayed in teaching–you’re a great teacher and you most certainly are good at those improvisations and adaptations that make teaching a science and an art.
Britt, your poem about your squad is just precious. It makes me so happy for you to have these special friends, who have made their way into your phone, happy hour, and home. That is so valuable to have these dears in your life.
Like some of the others here, I’m not much of a special tee wearer. This is one with writing on it that I wore today. A few months ago, my sister brought over a bag of second hand clothes for me to pick through. This was one I took and used for outdoor work, including painting. It’s now my comfy and utilitarian work sweatshirt; I love its big pockets. Here is a conversation poem about when I first got this sweatshirt.
Why does this sweatshirt say Alcaraz?
It’s Alcatraz Island–the prison,
you know, in San Francisco bay.
Oh, I thought of Albert Alcaraz,
grade six, my first crush.
Nope.
Ok, that’s fine. I’ll take it.
Haha, “Oh, I thought…my first crush.” I am in love with the associated dialogue surrounding this sweatshirt, and I’m so happy you included a picture!
I’ve never written a conversation poem; I’m looking forward to trying that out. Thank you for sharing!!
Denise, the quick association between the prison and the first crush and the juxtaposition between the two creates a rather comedic tone. Thanks for sharing!
I laughed out loud when I finally scrolled down and saw the image, Denise! OMGosh! Hilariously NOT the message I would have ever expected. And since when did Alcatraz become shirt-slogan material?! My, how times change. Sweet alternative reminder associated with it for you, and also, well rescued and used. I love seeing ‘found poems’ made from conversation snippets. Thanks for the cheerful start to my day!
Britt,
I am definitely stealing this prompt form my kids! My conundrum is that Iām a graphic tee junky so where to being today. If I were home, I might do a found poem combining the words from all those t-shirts. But I was on the road so Iām going with one that I have a pic for.
Hug Your Crew
Pretty sure I got it at
at the Hip Hop
for the Homeless
showā¦
Twenty bucks for
a good cause and
a cool ass t-shirt,
āHug your crewā,
A message I could get behind.
Joey Batts organized the thing
and designed the shirt
and taughtāEnglish Lit,
officiallyā
but graffiti and rap
after the last bell rang
for the day.
He lost his day job
cuz some admin
didnāt like the way that
his pedagogy sometimes
scribbled outside the lines.
It didnāt matter that night,
he was still hawking t-shirts,
selling raffle tickets, and collecting
donations at the door
at the show he put together.
He gave me a big hug that night
when I saw him and I copped the last
Double XL shirt he had, even though
I coulda used the triple.
When I dragged myself to school
the next morning, I rocked the new T.
āHey Mr Wooley, do you hug your crew?ā
I heard from down the hall.
I thought of Joey. I thought of my family.
āEvery day! Just make sure you hug your crew, too!!ā
You are a storyteller!! What a true voice you have in this poem. I felt like I was in the room with youā¦
Amen, to what Gayle said. Dave, your voice is a delight to listen to. I love the shirt’s message, the creator’s story, and how it spreads love. Sweet! Enjoy your road trip.
Exactly what Gayle said – you are a true storyteller. Your poem is simply captivating, Dave. I have so many questions and so much more I want to know about Joey.
I particularly loved this line –
Also, the shirt is awesome! š
Dave, wow! I was captivated by the storytelling and voice in this poem. Thank you for sharing about this shirt but also capturing Joey Batts’ personality in this poem too. Britt and I have the same line–I had already copied it “his pedagogy sometimes / scribbled outside the lines” before I read her comment.
āBirds arenāt real,ā no
they are celestial creatures
defying seasons.
Short, sweet, powerful.
“defying seasons” I love this line in particular! Thank you for sharing, Katrina.
Ooh! Celestial creaturesā¦I really like that, Katrina.
I love that idea of defying seasons. Birds seem so ubiquitous. It doesn’t seem to matter to them if it’s warm and sunny or freezing cold. How do they survive in any weather?
I have heard of the “Birds Aren’t Real” folks – so you caught my eye, Katrina. I find their movement quite hilarious, and now seeing it cropping up more and more. A thousand years from now, I wonder how this movement will be analyzed and considered – humorous, a kind of mental condition, or maybe it will become a predominant political party – ?! Who knows, but here it is, showing up in poetry!
Fight Evil, Read Books
By Mo Daley 2/21/23
Who would have thought, that in 2023
Teachers would be forced to yank books off their shelves
Because some right-wing loudmouth
Has decided OUR KIDS canāt read a book about
American history- the REAL American history,
Trans teens, or anything that isnāt āage appropriateā
More banned books + More kids losing access to literature=
Children not seeing themselves in books,
Not feeling valued
My job is to teach them to
Fight Evil, Read Books
Mo, Yes! Yes!Yes! Absolutely love your voice here! I agree the push to ban books and banish acceptance and history is beyond my comprehension. I feel your anger; embrace your anger. Your final line says it all! Magnificent poem!
Mo, nothing surprises me anymore! Kids have it hard: people want them to think for themselves, be good, and conform to the norm. Be little robots programmable to make āusā proud.
My favorite lines: āMy job is to teach them to
Fight Evil, Read Booksā
We want kids to be kids, so why canāt teachers just TEACH?!
Thank you for sharing.
I have this shirt and your poem makes me feel so much. The world is a weird place right now and can be really disheartening.
This has been right in my face these days. Mo, I read your poem a couple times and became sad and angry and a mix and… Thank you. Thank you for writing this and gifting it to me today.
Crazy times. Wonderful protest!
Mo, I feel the rage here and stand by you in that fire. I loathe what is happening here is backward/downward Missouri. Heaven help us all to vote out the “loudmouths” (I’m being way to kind in my terms here) in the coming elections. Amen, to a great piece here! Susie
Yes, Mo! And I want that shirt! šš½šš½šš½
Britt, thank you for todayās prompt. I will be using this prompt as well. I was told during my internship to stay away from the teacherās lounge. And I mostly did. But that led me to a teacherās room. Quite a few actually. I will forever cherish my educator friends. This stanza:
āThese three wormed their
way into my classroom,
into my phone,
into my happy hour,
into my homeā
thatās mostly true of my teacher friends. But distance, time, and sickness have strained our relationship, but I hope to one day be reunited (even if only for a few hours) with my cackling educator friends. Hereās my poem and pic.
BAE
No, not that one.
Iām not referring to my āBooā.
But
BLACK
AND
EDUCATED!
Thanks to my Sister-Friend
Iām a walking billboard.
Glistening, sparkling,
each bedazzle
of silver painstakingly crafted.
A reminder of the blood, sweat, and tears,
Hers and mine.
So many people want to put a large gap between the race and accomplishment,
But the only space required is when I walk into a room and the people divide
like
The
Red
Sea.
BAE COMING THROUGH
A Bachelor wasnāt enough.
He wouldnāt even capture my time.
But the time it took just to find the time
was worth it to seek my Masterās
Touch.
Going back, over and through was just the tip of the mountain
Top to topper,
going beyond infinity to make space
for the next diploma on my table.
EdS me please,
Reading is my speciality.
What a great reminder of your blood, sweat, and tears. I love your educational wordplay, too.
Thank you Mo, this was much needed after the most Mondayingest Tuesday ever!
Jessica, congratulations on your amazing accomplishments! I love the joy and movement you create in your poem. Love the imagery and the feeling of assertive efforts and goals! Keep it going!
Thank you Barb, Iām planning on it. You know, after my kids are more independent. Which could be never!! š
JESSICA, congratulations on your accomplishments!!!!
I love the line “I’m a walking billboard./Glistening, sparkling”
Amazing! Keep fighting the good fight. Thank you for writing today <3
Thank you Britt for the prompt. This was really fun. I needed it!
So, firstly, great t-shirt! I love the play with bachelors and Masters and EdS me after the turn in the poem. Very cool!
Thank you Dave! It was fun to write!
Wow! I love it and congrats on all of your success! The ancestors are singing your praises!
This is FIRE:
Oh yeah! I love a good graphic tee! And a poem about one? You got it!
Whipping into parking spots
wiping down the cart
eyeing that dollar spot
turning away from coffee
turning left towards the food
past the never-ending checkout lines
tunnel-vision
necessities only
skipping
eye shadow
lipstick
Oh look at that graphic tee!
Focus
Sprinting
the end in sight
rushing down the aisles
throwing it all in the art
flinging that cart around (going on three wheels!)
dashing to those lines
scanning as quick as I can
wishing the alarm doesn’t beep (no time to waste)
running across the black asphalt
racing to my car
opening the back hatch
throwing bags in
shoot the cart into the stall
head home.
I put my book down for this?
Why did I read this like a rap song?!? What a fun poem. And I think I need that shirt.
HAHA I love this so much!!! I felt that I was in Target with both of my toddlers LOL. Thank you for writing today!!
I am breathless just reading this!!
OMGosh, Alexis! Hilarious! I could feel my heart pounding as I coursed through this, even felt like I should shield my eyes along with the speaker! Exactly why I quit “major” grocery shopping and now use the pickup that I turned to during the pandemic. One good outcome that stayed with me. I still do occasional quick runs, but even those I hate! Some days, I get mad that I have to take a break and go to the bathroom! (Still, I should appreciate I still have control over those facilities!) Along with t-shirts are mugs, and the companion I have for your t is: SHHHH I’m reading! : )
Britt, again, thank you for today’s perfect prompt. Your poem warms my heart because I met three of my closest friends in my first year of teaching (38 years ago)!!
I wished I could’ve written a poem for every message shirt I have. Instead, I wrote about the shirt I wore today. Our teachers wear red for our union on Tueday’s, and red is not my color. However, if I must wear red, it must have a message!
Established in 1985
Sleepless nights before the first days of school… x 38
Sweet, fresh faces on class picturesā¦ x 38
Early to bed, early to riseā¦ x 38
Taking home stacks of papers to gradeā¦ x 38
Falling in love with colored pens and journalsā¦ x 38
District mandates come and go and come and stayā¦ x 38
Counting down the days until summer breakā¦ x 38
The thrill of packing up for the last days of schoolā¦ x 38
Until it all begins again in the Fallā¦ x 39
Ā© Stacey L. Joy, 2/21/23
Stacy, red has cultural significance! Wear it for that reason! You earned the right to wear any color .. after three decades! š¤ Kiddinā a little bit, Sweetie. You lookinā good.
Thanks, Anna! I appreciate that. I wear it but I don’t feel lovely and fine in it LOL. Now give me an orange or pink shirt, I’m glowing, at least inside I am.
Stacey, I love the color (sorry you don’t) and the message. Mine would say “teacher est. 1984”–so we almost have that in common. š I especially like the “sweet fresh faces on picture day” I can see them now!
Stacey, you look fantastic in red! Your poem had me smiling because I could definitely relate to all of your lines! I really laughed at the part about mandates! Love it!
Itās a never ending cycle Stacey, and even though some complain, we still do it! I need a shirt like that. Not to age you, but I wasnāt even born when you began teaching. To age myself, in college I used to work with a woman who was pregnant with twin boys. My first teaching job was in the town next door about 10 years later. When I saw her at Parent/Teacher conferences one year and realized who she wasā¦yep! āUntil it all begins again in the Fallā¦ā our mantra. By the way, red looks good on you!
Stacy,
You look beautiful in red! I relate to everything in your poem x 26. Go you–38!! I’m gladi’m not the only loon to say I’ve got another 10 or 12 years left–at least.
Excellent picture, Stacey! Thank you for including with your poem – you look great!!
Your poem is so fun, and I’m inspired to write one myself. Mine would say established 2014 š
Stacey — You make me smile here. What a chunk of math your life has been, a chunk of doggone fine work, my friend. I love it when we do the math. Yet, we know in our bones that this is the skeleton on which you hang uncountable hours in the throes of educating every kid that has walked your path in thirty-eight years. You’re a teacher! You’re amazing! Love, Susie
I took a slightly different approach since I don’t have a lot of t-shirts with stuff on them. I know, I’m a weirdo.
I am not really one to wear
shirts with
slogans
or designs
from places Iāve been.
Iām not sure why.
I.
Just.
Donāt.
But
I have a drawer
jam-packed
with shirts from the school
where Iāve worked for 26 years.
The requisite beginning-of-the-year shirts,
the celebrate-a-person shirts,
the commemorate-a-day shirts,
and the four years of soccer-coaching shirts,
polos, tees, training layers, and sweatshirts.
This drawer,
as full as it is,
doesnāt hold the complete collection.
A stack on an upper shelf in my closet
holds the nearly antique ones
from my early days here.
The designs today’s kids would call retro.
Yup.
Thatās me.
Retro teacher.
Collecting,
but not often wearing,
piles and piles of shirts
emblazoned with
South Salem High School.
I love that you keep all of the shirts! Not everyone enjoys graphic tees, or ones with anything on them for that matter, and I love how you are showing that here. “Retro teacher” š
I’m with you, Cara! So many t-shirts: opening day, decision day, EdTech, Chrome Captian, etc. etc. etc. “[P]iles and piles of shirts” indeed. I’ll generally wear them during the summer or to sleep in, but not often to school. Thanks for articulating this so well!
Oh Cara, I have dozens of shirts from my years teaching. I have them cut up and ready to make into a tee-shirt quilt. Another project for the future. I made them for my daughters with their high school shirts, and they love those quilts. I love your descriptions of the shirts here:
Cara, I still have all the shirts form my first teaching job and under the same categories. Been through 4 superintendents and 4 principals, and now that Iām no longer employed there, I hate to just trash them or get rid of them. So they just take up necessary space in my closet. I laughed aloud at this line, āThe designs todayās kids would call retro.ā I cringe when my 11 year old talks about the 90s like it was 50 years agoā¦.thank you for sharing.
Goodness, I hear you. Not only the campus shirts, but alllll the shirts I feel a little obligated to buy from every athlete in all six class periods! LOL. Then the crafty teacher friend who gifts homemade shirts with our school…something, anything on them.
We wear these shirts with pride! š Thanks for sharing today!
Love it! I’m browsing these poems now before I dive into my poem, and I wonder if the shirt you made last year is in this drawer. I think the making of those shirts even got its own poem š I love how you ended the poem with the name of the high school–it’s a powerful ending and connects all the shirts together.
[Britt — I had so much fun just thinking about this prompt!]
WE BRAKE FOR FOOD
Jimmy grumbled,
weāre getting to be old cousins,
so letās not make our gatherings
around the next sad funeral,
letās do RAGBRAI
[the Des Moines Registerās Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa]
our way,
of course,
none of that camping in mass tent villages
on the ground with all that sweat
and all-night partying;
we rode four of the seven days,
rotated driving our own SAG wagon,
booked in February our B&Bs and hot-shower motels
that would make Iowa July feel just fine;
after months of training
shoring up stamina,
shaking off winter fat;
from our various corners
of the country, we converged
on the big ride,
our team: Wide Load;
there for so many reasons
and food was a big one:
Mr. Pork Chop (on a stick),
Tomās Turkey Legs,
church pies,
sweet corn and watermelon,
beer and beer slides,
but nothing so fine
as the distant sound of
tchuā-pa-tah tchuā-pa-tah tchuā-pa-tah —
vintage tractors belted to huge churns
cranking out Beekmanās peach ice cream
right there on a lush green front yard,
heritage oaks and red maples throwing shade,
wedged between acres of corn and beans —
icy cold, brain-freezinā ice cream,
scooped into huge cups
that made each day’s fifty/sixty plus miles
on Iowa’s ribbon roads
all worth the pedal.
Indeed, We Brake for Food!
[Six RAGBRAI rides with my cousins=best family time ever.]
by Susie Morice, February 21, 2023Ā©
Susie, I need a RAGBRAI ride – – I, too, fit the bill for the wide load and will brake for food – especially brain freezing ice cream. This sounds like so much fun, and I love your reference to not waiting until the next funeral but getting out and enjoying living – with hotels and hot showers, no less! It sounds like you and your group know how to have a great time!
Susie, what a wild and fun ride! I love all the deliciousness throughout the poem. Seems we always tell our loved ones at funerals we need to get together more often and NOT only for funerals. I am guilty. I need to do better and I take this as a gentle reminder.
I love the image here:
We L.A. city folks don’t get shade thrown by heritage oaks and red maples, we get it from haters! š¤£
Susie, what a perfect poem. Ribbon roads is right. I especially appreciate the food and the way you shared your traveling in decent places and the training! I know RAGBRAI well and your poem shares the gutsy spirit you need for this event! Hugs, Barb
Oh, Susie, your poem made me emotional thinking about my own cousin relationships. We used to be so, so close and now everyone has grown up and left the “hub.” You’ve inspired me to consider proposing some type of annual thing for us all to meet up.
Truly, thank you for this poem gift. <3
This sounds amazing! Loved the imageryāespecially the food!
Britt, you have a marvelous t-shirt collection…and your poem of sweet homage to your colleagues is so dear; I love the line “the squad lifts me up”…I got a visual image of them carrying you through the halls…which, the best of colleagues really are doing, emotionally, I think! The verb ‘wormed’ also jumped out at me – how beautiful that this wasn’t an automatic friendship, but a bond that was nurtured over time. Just lovely.
I know I’m much older than you – and a little overwhelmed by how many t-shirts my family has accumulated through the years. Definitely need to sort through these!! So my simple acrostic thought about this ‘collection’ of ours…
Too many so many far too many
Stuffed into drawers
Haphazardly wedged
In bins overflowing on closet shelves
Running + biking + baseball + soccer + school + college + vacations + joining
Throngs of people to protest
So many reasons for a t-shirt so many years so little culling
Maureen, Iām laughing about the T-shirts haphazardly wedged and stuffed in these familiar places! I think there should be a special type of furniture made for T-shirts! Iām glad you chose the acrostic form because it made me think of the shirts being stacked up as I read down the page.
Ahh, Iām thinking now about all the dust cloths made of old Tshirts! š¤£š¤£
Maureen, I know that feeling of too many tshirts. I just cleaned out my closet last month, and already…..they are piling up again. Same thing – spilling over the plastic bin. I love the acrostic form – it gives the vertical spine to the tshirt.
Maureen, great decision to write an acrostic! I’m with Stacey and Kim here, this is a perfect form for a stack of folded shirts! So clever. (And there’s always too “little culling,” it seems, when t-shirts are involved. Lol.)
Maureen, youāve captured so cleverly all the way t-shirts can represent a purpose. I bet we could create a contest to see who has the most t-shirts. Iāve given away a lot of tshirts too but I would show a strong running. Your end had me laughing because today I realized how badly I needed to purge. Wonderful poem!
Maureen, thank you for your kind words!
I love the idea of an acrostic for this prompt; now I want to write another poem. š Despite being a little older than me, I’m imagining a particular drawer that is also overflowing! I don’t know why I keep trying to shut it closed LOL.
Thank you for sharing today!
Britt, I so enjoyed all of your comments today. I searched hard for a favorite t-shirt that I never could find, but I’m sure must be tucked away somewhere. It’s front was an image like Merlin from The Once and Future King. Anyway, the search opened a myriad of memories as I found so many different t-shirts. I’m struggling a bit with a poem, but this is what I came up with for now. Thanks for your delightful prompt and poetry! I am going to post a photo of a t-shirt made by the artist I reference in the poem.
Magical T for Me
I remember
shooting pool; looking cool
sipping beer at Werniās
meeting Jim
who painted the barās window
and a magical t
just for me
the Wizard of Werniās
Barb Edler
21 February 2023
Barb, I am captivated by the special memory this t-shirt holds for you. What a fun and lighthearted time – “shooting pool, looking cool” – so fun!
Hey Barb — Isn’t that a fun memory! I like to think about you shooting pool and being cool. š Susie
Susie, Lol! Iām not sure how cool I looked but definitely cooler than now.
Oh, Barb, I’m sorry you couldn’t find your favorite, but I’m secretly glad it sent you on a nostalgic hunt š
Love the poem; so sweet. Thank you for sharing today!!
This is supersweet, Barb. For all the bars and breweries I’ve been to, I have zero t-shirts from them, except two my bro gave me. One I wrote my poem about, and the other from Wolski’s Tavern in Milwaukee. “I closed Wolski’s” is their tagline. I say never wear a bar tee unless it has good memories. Yours is a winner. I LOVE the comic dudes.
My dear coworker, Maria, blessed 5 of us with the shirt,
BLACK TEACHER MAGIC.
Being raised by two Black teachers
meant that was NOT the job for me
However after being a substitute for a year, I reveled in the stability
of teaching, listening, and helping.
Being at the same school with my mom was the icing on the cake.
Watching her and her coworkers
use their āmagicā inspired me to
submerge myself into Education
Once I opened myself up and shared my heart with my students
the āmagicā spilled out effortlessly.
As a ā seniorā teacher now, I impart
my experience to others so they
can find their magic and share it with their students.
Seana,
Love the evolution of naming and claiming your teacher-ness through this poem arriving at the “I impart” and ending with “find their magic”! This is perfect as it captures your journey to notice the magic that was always within you.
And love, love this picture.
Sarah
Isn’t it funny/odd – I likewise had teachers try to dissuade me from going into teaching – ! I can certainly now understand their bitterness and “looking out for me” as well-intentioned. I have my own bitterness, to be sure, but when I hear a student interested in teaching as a career, I’m 100% behind them and say, “Yes! We need good teachers now more than ever!” And that statement has been true for thirty years! And we especially need good MENTOR teachers who truly feel and understand the magic. Beautifully rendered here, Seana.
Great picture to accompany your beautiful poem!! Seana, I believed similarly for a short while that I wouldn’t follow in my mother’s education footsteps… Here we are though! You and me, thriving! āŗļø
Seana, I love how your poem shows the gift of education a teacher can have. I’m so happy you were inspired and share this magic. Fantastic message and poem!
Seana, I hear magic in every line herein…your reveling in “teaching, listening, and helping” is the very best of motivation/inspiration for entering the teaching field. I adore the line, ‘the āmagicā spilled out effortlessly.’ Love the photo!
Seana — This is an absolutely marvelous story! I love the generations of fine people teaching! You have some lucky students! And the t-shirts…dang, that’s just plain fine. Susie
I love you and all your Black Teacher Magic! Thank you for sharing this picture and poem, and for always sharing your magic!
ā¤ļø š¤
Nothing is plain with us
A plain white T,
pressed uniquely,
letters expressing you personality,
or questioning your reality
No conformity
unless itās your team or spirituality.
-Cartoons for creativity
-brands for sociality
-colors perspectivelyā
everyday continuity
we wear them respectively
we will never be
without the T
even if itās underneath-for nobody to see,
it will still be,
whatever you choose it to be.
defining the imaginaryā¦ā¦
A raccoon rides the rainbow on a unicorn with astonishing ability
Allowing
The T sets us free š
Boxer,
I like pondering the figurative and literal of the tshirt — the skin and the cloth, the self and the brands, the invisible and visible images we carry.
What a great line “defining the imaginary…”
Sarah
Hilariously concluded, Boxer! I’m pretty sure I own every kind of T you mentioned, and as a daily wearer, I am comforted by the lines, “we will never be / without the T.” Thank goodness! Love your rhythm and rhymes. Smiles all the way!
My favorite line –
letters expressing you personality,
or questioning your reality
I’d never really considered the “questioning your reality” until the last year or so as I came across more t-shirts, particularly ones I found myself attracted to. Thank you for writing with us today!
These words are so true,
I want to see a picture of the t-shirt with the raccoon and rainbow and unicorn!
Boxer, Iām moved by your poemās message ā¦ at least the one that comes through to me. Especially the lines about the hidden T. Somehow having that special shirt covering our hearts, even if covered up, opens our hearts to others. Thanks for sharing,
Hi Britt. This is a fictionalized poem based on real feelings. Both sides of my family held family reunions and because I lived on the other side of the country and worked during summer school, I seldom could “afford” to attend them. So, spurred by your prompt I’ve written a poem to blend them, the times, the incidents, and the maybes. .
Reunion Tee Shirt? Who Needs Them?
Annual family reunions? I didnāt always attend.
They came during the summer when I was working.
I know some family thought I was just shirking
,
What a time to gather. How I missed seeing all the folks
Sure missed seeing everyone and hearing inside jokes
Making fond memories and moments for relationships to mend.
How I wish I could attend.
Who knew one cousin went to college
After her kids were all grown
If Iād gone that year, Iād have gotten that knowledge
I wouldnāt be the last to have known
Who knew Uncle Joe had been tipping
On his wife for fifteen years
True, this gossip was not for slipping
Into those young onesā nosey ears
Ah! Seeing our dear grandmother
Sitting as though enshrined on a throne
Greeting each one with a hug and a kiss
While I watch here on ZOOM all alone
My sister will send the reunion tee shirt
I know seeing the names of those who were there
Will make tears stream āmaking my heart hurt
And, as with shirts from the past, this one I will not wear.
Maybe next year Iāll make it and see ’em
Even if I have to skin, grin, and take ’em
All the jeers and all the sneers
Just ācause I missed all those years
Since I flew across the country to be there
When they gather to remember and renew
Gossip and good times come through on the screen
But, really, Iād rather be there to help make āem
Take āem and make āthem. Memories to show we all care
Anna, this is a beautiful, melancholic poem. The stanza about grandma studying on a throne juxtaposed with being home alone on zoom is doubly impactful as a familiar COVID moment. That moment of not being able to be there is really palpable in this. Thank you for sharing this!
Oh, Anna!
This stanza
Clever and whimsical in the rhyming but packed with caution.
And then the last lines reveal the speaker’s true nature in contrast — “I’d rather be there to help make ’em” and I trust that the memories made are more joyful with Mrs. Anna J. Small Roseboro present!
Peace,
Sarah
Oh, Anna! I love how I feel like I’m actually there listening to folks jawin’ in those stanzas about the cousin, the uncle, and the grandmother. While it hurts to read about the separation, I know it all to well – for work, for Covid, and for just not being able to afford it. I say do whatever you can to attend. No work is more important than being there to be a part of these memories. And it’s worth all the ribbin’ you’ll take – all the more reason they should welcome you with great big open arms! Once family are gone, they’re gone. You never get another chance, so please take it as soon as you can. Jobs, work, bills – they’ll always be there, wanting to gobble up every last ounce of you if you let them. Go get that t-shirt! : )
Anna, how incredibly beautiful!! This line jolted me –
Thank you for sharing such a tender truth with us that you hold in your heart š¤
Anna — I loved this poem so rich in images of the massive family reunion. Especially grandma…priceless image (the throne…). And as in all things family, there are those stings…the T without your name. Doggone…that’s raw. But what spirit you have here. Just dandy. And the smiles in that pic…well, that says it all. Susie
One day,
a few years ago,
some random
Tuesday.
weāll say,
I held up a
shirt and tie
combination
to my wife
and she,
with no malice
or snark intended,
said, quite,
innocently,
Oh, is it Mismatch
Day? Cool.
What are the
other themes
this week?
Now, I swear I could
dress myself
before marriage.
Iām sure I went
whole days,
weeks even,
when I didnāt forget
to clothe myself
before leaving the
house, and Iām certain,
well, reasonably
certain, that some
of those clothes
were respectable
and probably even
matched, too.
Probably.
What Iām saying
is this muscle
has atrophied,
has weakened,
and, like any
charley horse,
just needs a
bit of kneading
and maybe a bit
more potassium, too.
I donāt really know
to be honest.
I was never a
clotheshorse,
galloping through
the halls of
sartorial splendor;
you couldnāt
check my teeth
for my worth
(stop staring into
my mouth
thatās weird),
but, now, today,
I have been dragged
by horses,
wild or otherwise,
to a comfortable
ambling gait toward
fashionableish-ness.
And I donāt mind.
(Letās cross the finish
line here and not
beat this dead horse
(again, weird)
because Iām tiring of
these equine metaphors,
becoming literally winded,
and none too quick it seems,
seeing as how this whole poem
is built around the clothes
horse metaphor which is
not, apparently, about
horses at all, more like
a drying rack
or sawhorse
and now weāre off
to the races again)
And, as always, you give me laughter! (Is your wife a saint??) The horse metaphors, the meandering narrative–classic, wonderful Scott M. I wish I was your teaching neighbor…
HAHAH. Scott, I’m amazed!!! Thank you for this poem gift. You’ve inspired me to try to use a horse metaphor for something I’d never do?! Or use parentheses like you!
Scott — You punster you! This just has me in stitches over and over. Your wife’s “mismatch” assessment was just priceless — you two must be the center of every party or gathering. I literally blurted a laugh to think of you getting your teeth checked (sizing up your worth)…OMG…where do these perfect images come from?! Just hilarious. Publish this baby– you clearly have the teeth for fame! You are the Seabiscuit of poetry! Giddyup! Susie
OMG Britt, you have chosen the perfect prompt for me! I decided a few years ago that I would stop trying to dress outside of my comfort zone, and I would embrace what makes me happy in my clothing. Guess what I opted for? Message shirts! I canāt wait to write today. Have a wonderful day and I will get my poem posted during my break.
have enjoyed hosting with you! ā„ļø
š¤ š¤ š¤ š¤
Britt-love your shirt collection, love your poem! This prompt is one I had never considered–it is so much fun. I considered some of my more responsible t-shirts –Strong Female Protagonist, Anything is Possible, Unreliable Narrator, Body By Ben and Jerry’s (I see the list eroding–I should stop). Here is the final entry…
āIn My Defense, I Was Left Unsupervisedā
Is that a valid excuse?
I was the oldest child,
meant to be in charge–
the one to turn to in an emergency,
the wise one,
the heroine (hero?) of the tale,
but whimsy took over.
Life took me
in so many (often unwise)
directions,
and I wallowed
in every one
(it was the seventies…).
I sowed my oats,
I harvested them,
I baked the bread,
buttered it,
and finished the entire loaf.
(It was really good bread)
Now that I am mature
(not really–just old-ish)
and seasoned by my experiences,
(is wine a seasoning?)
I am clearly in a position
to give sage advice,
Requested or otherwise.
So here it is–my āsageā advice:
Take the risks
Make the mistakes
Do a good busted.
Make a more interesting mistake the next time.
(Donāt repeat the same mistake–
there are so many available to you
that you haven’t tried yet)
Learn.
Laugh at yourself.
Grow.
Enjoy the ride.
Supervision is overrated.
Gayle Sands
02-21-23
Gayle, this may be the best advice I’ve ever gotten. Regardless, it was just what I needed to hear today, as it’s my birthday — and you’ve inspired me to do something daring. Thanks. š
There was so much to enjoy here — in your pacing and sentence structures, your bread metaphor (ha!), your parenthetical asides and use of dashes and ellipses — I just loved this.
Wendy. Happy Birthday!!
Thanks!
Happy birthday ššš!
Gayle, I love stanza 4 the most…is wine a seasoning, ha, I love that.
Gayle,
I love the whole poem by my favorite lines by far are,
Such great advice!
I want to point out so many favorite lines, my goodness, Gayle!
And now I’m hungry š Ha, I love, love this.
Your use of the parentheses is awesome, and I love the honesty. This reminds me not to wallow so much in my mistakes because I’ll just keep learning. Thank you, thank you!
Gayle,
I love this! Making mistakes is just demonstrating your persistence in trying! This is my favorite part, particularly the last line:
Gayle, your poem had me smiling from ear to ear. I love “Do a good busted” and your closing line is pure perfection! Rock on!
Gayle — What a great poem here! I love the choice “In My Defense…” Just so funny. I loved the oats and bread metaphor — it puffed right up and smelled good. And I blurted a guffaw at “is wine a seasoning?” LOL! What funny stuff! You do, indeed, have sage advice here…words to live by. Susie
Gayle, you have me cracking up over here! I really want to hear this poem spoken out loud. Instead of copying and pasting and highlighting every single line, I will just say this is a keeper. I also feel validated and affirmed in my oldish ways.š¤£š¤£ Your advice needs to be shared far beyond this group.
šš½ šš½ šš½ šš½
Gayle – this is an absolute joy to read. I am chuckling about not making the same mistakes when there are so many others available, just make more interesting ones, and wondering if wine is a seasoning (yes-?) What I love best here is the inherent zest for life and the freedom to overcome – the buttering and eating all of that really good bread baked from sowed oats! Too good!
Britt,
I can’t love this prompt enough!!
As a fellow t-shirt collector, it was only a matter of which one to choose. As luck would have it, I wore my David Ruggles tee yesterday and had it close at hand. š
If you don’t know him, he was an abolitionist, a writer, a publisher, and was the person to whose home Frederick Douglass was directed (in NYC) when Douglass escaped bondage and fled to NYC; Frederick and Anna Murray were married in his home.
If anyone wants to rabbit hole a bit, see more here:
https://davidrugglescenter.org/david-ruggles/
https://amsterdamnews.com/news/2022/09/29/literary-society-honors-wedding-of-anna-murray-and-frederick-douglass/
This summer I attended an NEH Summer Institute on Abolition and the Underground Railroad, and we traveled to the David Ruggles Center in Northampton, MA (I would highly recommend both this historical site and the Institute, which is through Colgate University and will be run again in the summer of 2024!).
I loved your poem, Britt! Here is mine today — shout-out to Stacey for getting me addicted to golden shovel poems this week:
Ode to David Ruggles
Struck, stricken, strike
out for freedom. Grocer, mariner, entrepreneur and voice for
Black people. āPractical Abolitionā rang in his deeds of freedom.
Whether One Cortlandt Street or
Northampton, Massachusetts ā his vision does not die
but lives on in commemoration: Freedmen, not slaves!...
Civil Disobedience and Self Defense rang In
The ears of his listeners, our
shared History-Keepers, the effect of his cause,…
But peek into his drawing room ā draw aside the curtains ā and see that mere
memories of actions lack impact of words
sometimes: Here are
Anna Murray, Frederick Douglass, nothing ā
holding them back as Ruggles oversees their union of action:
Anna, in plum silk ā Frederick, handsome and dashing ā as was becomes is
and their future is everything!
Here is the tee! š
N/M — wouldn’t let me upload. š
Wendy, I am astounded every time at Golden Shovels done so skillfully well like you have done today. Thank you for writing and sharing today!
Wendy- whoa! First of all, golden shovels are not so easy to write sometimes (so I’ve found)- but yours flows beautifully here. Excellent choice of strike line for the shovel…love the visual images of these abolitionists; the passion, dedication, and energy are palpable. This is powerful content and craft!
What a fun prompt. I love how your squad has wormed their way into your phone. I imagine you have a group text labelled “Squad.”
T-shirt Trophy
After my first zipline at age sixty,
you said, “You deserve a trophy,”
so we bought a t-shirt in the gift shop.
My second zip was highway flying
through a Costa Rican rainforest.
Another t-shirt: bright red to mark
burning bravery.
“Zipping through life with you by my side”
is my t-shirt trophy.
Margaret, love this sweet tribute to your SO!
HAHA, I am laughing so hard that you know about my group text labelled “Squad” š You are correct!
Wow, Margaret, I am in awe. I hope to grow in bravery and courage. I am 31 and TERRIFIED at the idea of ziplining. You are my inspiration!
What a wonderful mark of adventures– ziplining t-shirts — to remind you and others of this “highway flying” self, this “burning bravery” that others may not recognize in you (or maybe you in yourself sometimes, sorry to project my own story here). And the direct address to the “you” is particularly important here, right. It is a shared existence –there is a witness beyond the tshirt.
Peace,
Sarah
Margaret — Holy cow! I’m blown away. I’m SUCH a wienie and scared to death of heights. You are awesome! What a woman! Susie
Burning bravery indeed, Margaret – what a path you blaze for the rest of us, poetically and in life! And the love there in those last lines…that speaks to adventure, too.
Margaret, you are a brave badass! Iām so proud of you!
Britt, there is nothing like a supportive loving group of teacher friends! Thank you for todayās prompt!
T-shirt reads: āScience, like magic but realā
But What of Science and Magic?
But what of the oxygen and hydrogen
bonded together
filled to bursting
with energy at ninety nine degrees
then set free at
one hundred?
But what of sodium,
and of chlorine,
toxic, burning alone
until brought together?
But what of acetaminophen,
coursing, searching,
without guidance,
and masking pain?
But what of expeditions
permitted by
the microscope,
sonar,
the telescope.
Or the cardiac computed tomography scanner.
But what of her
innocent, nascent eyes
looking up at the incomprehensible cosmic vacuum and
magically
knowing more of the stars than I.
This tells a larger story. “cosmic vacuum” But what if all the science in the world can’t save her?
Brittany, love, love the shift at the end of this. <3
Brittany, I love that you bring science to us in your words – and how beautiful they are. I feel like it’s Ray Bradbury, writing the what if response through story. I’m imagining your daughter, looking up at the vastness of space and seeing the magic there (though you might have intended something else). Children understand so much more than adults, or at least they find answers and understand in ways we do not.
Brittany, I am nervous and anxious around nearly anything science (or math!) related, yet you’ve written a poem that sucks me in so tenderly.
I also love your repetition – “But what of”
Thank you for offering this poem today.
First of all, if you could have been my science teacher, the trajectory of my life would have been vastly different. Everyone knows that children love science but itās the rotten science teacher that kills it for the middle schooler and a high schooler, right? Your poem makes me love science and Iām sure your students must feel the same.
š
You’ve made me want to take chemistry again! I love the mix of magic and science- and the magic in learning!
Britt, thank you for another well loved prompt that proves that we walk by thousands of writing opportunities everyday. We walk in them, past them, heck – we wear them! I love how your t-shirts inspire a poem and that you set boundaries between work and play. I bought a t-shirt at the NCTE conference with a message I enjoy sharing – your story matters.
Your Story Matters
youāre a child in Godās
great universe so
your story matters
Love this message. Wear it proudly!
Love this sweet sentiment — and your poem that captures it beautifully, Kim!
Kim, Looking at this image first brought me back to NCTE. Your limited words are powerful. Thank you for sharing today.
Kim, I love your short yet powerful piece. This reminds me of a conversation I had just this weekend about nearly the exact words in your poem (my friend’s story mattering because she is a child of God). Thank you for sharing!
Kim– For sure! Love the truth here. Susie
Love this, Kim! It’s so true – and our stories are inextricably interrelated. I need this shirt <3
Kim, I am so mad I didnāt see that shirt in November. I got the water bottle and it says āThis Story Matters.ā I love your shirt much more than my water bottle š¤£!
Well, okay. I’m totally a t-shirt gal. I have about 50 t-shirts, the majority of which are emblazoned with the name of the school where I work. (aka “The place that shall not be named.”) So, not those. This is a story about another t-shirt.
Picture Day at Work
I hate it more now than ever
but necessary every time
to attempt to replace
the previous travesty
of bad hair day
half-closed eyes
ridiculously toothy smile
This time I determined
not to care
went on my off day
hadn’t showered yet
wore the shirt I slept in
refused to look
when the photographer
offered a preview for redo
The directory published
emails and texts trickled in
“Nice pic”
“Seriously!”
“Amen!”
and wondered what the fuss
was all about
Against my will to not care
I clicked online to see
best hair day ever
radiantly sly smile
eyes beaming
and the t-shirt with the logo
from Psycho Suzie’s Motor Lounge:
“Your petty concerns of authenticity are irrelevant.”
Best picture day ever.
Holy Moses, Denise — this is absolutely hilarious. A doubt a better T-shirt exists nor a better attitude. I LOVE this! You are a warrior…you make this ol’ teacher proud! Right on! What a perfect start to my day! Susie
THAT is priceless – – oh, I’m howling this morning at the mere image of what that photo must look like in the yearbook. I’m so glad you shared this humorous moment. Just that it was a great hair day and a sly smile with eyes beaming says it all.
This is amazing! First of all, the work shirt comment, then the back story. I laughed out loud! I did NOT expect that! Thank you for starting my day with a chuckle… (and I want that shirt!!)
Love it! Laugh out loud. Let’s hear it for authenticity!
Denise, love this story! The “sly smile” arrested me — you paint such a great picture here that I can just see it. And love the shirt!
Denise, this is AMAZING!!! I love the how you found out what a great picture you’d taken. Sometimes not overthinking can turn out so much better, huh?
Thank you for sharing with us today!
LOL, Denise! I loved the build-up to the T-shirt reveal at the end (and then the final line: “Best picture day ever”). And I totally agree that picture days are the worst. I’m glad this one turned out so well!
Britt,
This is a fun prompt. I donāt have any t-shirts w/ me, but I do have a t-shirt w/ the quote that inspired my poem. Iāll try to post a photo of one of the foods I named in the poem. I love your collection of shirts and the stories you shared.
Antidote
Mark these words:
Travelā
the physical
journey of moving
from one geographical
location to anotherā
is fatalā
as in deadly or lethalā
to prejudiceā
Because ātravel is
fatal to prejudice,ā
Iāll nosh on fried
grasshoppers,
taste crunchy crickets,
chow on worms,
indulge in a sampling of
tasty creepy crawlers. Iām
channeling my inner
Anthony Bourdain. Still,
roasted farm-trapped
rat turns my inside outside.
āGlenda Funk
2-22-23
Quote attribution: Mark Twain
AHAHAHA! Glenda, you had fun this with one. A.Bourdain would’ve loved this one…channel on! The wide roads of travel are, indeed, the antidote to that narrow mind. I know you’re having fun out there! Hugs and eschew rats at all corners. š Susie
Glenda, I still have a bookmark with this quote that you shared with me. It inspires me every time I read it to think about the meaning of the words and how, with one little change of turf, so much is realized. It makes me wish sometimes that we could all be strangers in our own country for a week so that those who may never otherwise understand this could catch a glimpse of what it means to be human and not what it means to be in the corner office overlooking the city. You are a brave soul for tasting the worms and crickets. I’m glad you draw the line at rats, even if they are those free-range farm-trapped kind that are (supposed to be?) more healthy. Safe travels on your journey! Cheers to the world!
Glenda–you have to draw the line somewhere, even if you are channeling Anthony. I love the quote, but the alliteration sneaks in–the sound of all those insect skeletons as you chew, perhaps??
Yuck! on eating rat, but I love your adventurous spirit and inner”Anthony Bourdain”.
WHAT A GREAT QUOTE. Seriously. And loved your adventurous eating and the imagery it spawned here. Great poem, Glenda! <3
Glenda, what a fun (and convicting) poem to read! You are one adventurous traveler!!
Glenda, oh, my that last part really had my stomach rolling. I love the message: “travel is/fatal to prejudice.” What a delightful poem to show your travel savvy self and your “inner/Antony Bourdain”….Love it!
Britt, what a creative and entertaining prompt! I can so relate to your poem about The Squad, as I am one who also appreciates boundaries and space…and am profoundly grateful others who “worm their way in” to lift me up. What would we do without them? Your verse is a true tribute – The Squad needs it printed on shirts!! At least those five ending lines… thank you for the inspiration today.
Covenant Sign
She was only three
when she became family
āmy first granddaughter.
I needed a change
of name for my new status:
Miss Fran didnāt fit
anymore. As with
Abram, Sarai, and Jacob,
the transformation
and the gift were marked
for generations to come:
She named me Franna.
So it is written
henceforth and forevermore
on my heartā¦and shirts.
It is one of my favorite things to explore the impact of names and our relationship to names. I have learned through your writings how important it is being “Franna.” I love the shirt and the sweet name. Thank you for sharing this tender piece of your story š¤
Oh, Fran, that is so sweet. I just love that! Congratulations on being the best Franna with a t-shirt to prove it. Susie
Fran, she is such a sweetheart. What a great name she chose for you. I love seeing all the photos of both of your granddaughters, and the daddy/daughter dance was a keepsake for memory and moment. Those leopard letters on the yellow background that looks a lot like sunrise over the desert plain say so much, too, about her coming into your life at the beginning of hers as the sun rose on a new day. A Franna day! You are truly blessed, my friend, in name and in family.
Fran-this is beautiful
As with
Abram, Sarai, and Jacob,
the transformation
and the gift were marked
for generations to come:
She named me Franna.
Names carry so much weight, and this is so touching. (I renamed my grandmother, Frances, as Grandma Sancie–it stuck for the rest of her life. Created names carry so much more love…)
Fran, I saw you reference this nickname in an earlier post and thought it was just the best — love the tee and this poem with its Biblical allusions and themes of renaming. <3
Fran,
Love your g-ma name and how important these names are for families. Thank you for sharing.
This is a beautiful poem and so relatable! Franna is a great name, so much sweeter because she chose it. I love how you unspool this story. Iām āBig Daveā to my stepsonāhis choice, as well, at 3. The name is music to my ears!
Britt, thank you for this prompt and all the images. I love my old and current work colleagues…it’s hard to survive without them.
she shirts herself in my clothes
a worn-out Mumford sweatshirt
golden state of mind tee
holey, over-sized Laguna Beach hoodie
my this is a feminist tee
I shirt myself in happiness
as my tween daughter keeps asking
to clothe herself in my memories, my scent
before she pulls one over on me
and leaves me alone in my closet
Stefani, I love your poem. As a daughter who does the same often – in her thirties! – this makes me smile from the other point of view š
Stefani, I love the phrase “I shirt myself in happiness” and how your tween daughter asks to “clothe herself’ in your memories…not to mention the double entendre of “she pulls one over on me”. Your final line makes such an indelible image, standing alone in the closet…alas. In just a few lines, you capture the dichotomy of motherhood. Well done!
Stefani, there’s so much to love about this, from shirting yourself in happiness to her “pulling one over” on you….the fickle tweenness of our daughters is captured so accurately here – one minute loving us to the point of wearing our clothes, the next minute leaving us alone to run off with friends.
Stefani…ohh, man, this brought a tear to my eye with its bittersweet and sweetly ambiguous twist at the end! As a mom who just watched one go off to college last month, this resonated with me!
Your play on words is amazing!