It was my thirtieth year to heavenWoke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood And the mussel pooled and the heron— … Read The Post
Spent a prep period with these lines in my head and an ink brush in hand. Sassoon was an officer in the Royal Welch Fusiliers during the Great War, and wrote Everyone Sang shortly after… Read The Post
Two of my very favorite people moved to London last month, and I have been so thrilled for them but then also entirely, rabidly jealous. I’ll think about them there and it’s like sunshine on… Read The Post
This essay first appeared in Latitudes, Longitudes. It is republished here as a file archived, and in a fit of irreparable suadade. _______________________________ They say we all have a little bit of the obsessive compulsive,… Read The Post
It is difficult to speak adequately or justly of London. It is not a pleasant place; it is not agreeable, or cheerful, or easy, or exempt from reproach. It is only magnificent. You can draw… Read The Post
There are things I wish for my classroom that have nothing to do with state standards, testing milestones, or any sort of grammarian checklist. The truth is that very few students will remember their predicate nominatives without hesitation or recognize synecdoches at a glance, and as a teacher you have to allow for that inevitability, you have to concede the win of total learning to not any brilliance on your part but the combined effort of student and teachers and years and years of line upon line understanding. I hope my students have learned things, yes. I know that most of them have, in pieces, and that they will continue to grow up into understanding. But so much more than facts and numbers I hope that they remember in their sixth grade year a sense of wonder, an abiding joy, the influence of kindness.
That being said, the first crown was something of an accident.
1. Chiara Vigo, the last woman who makes sea silk. 2. I love the High Line. I can’t get enough of the High Line. But I also cannot express to you how much I wish… Read The Post
Little by little,You will turn into stars. Even then, my dear,You will only beA crawling infant,Still skinning your knees on God. Little by little,You will turn intoThe whole sweet, amorous UniverseIn heatOn a wild spring… Read The Post
Mae Carden, brilliant educator, had a lot of opinions, among which was the suggestion that “a classroom should not look like a supermarket.” I often thought the sentiment somewhat odd, rather too obvious, until I came into a classroom of my own and found that the internet had missed the memo.
A handful of old pieces and places I have revisited of late: 1. For I Will Consider My Cat Jeoffrey. Paul Bommer illustrates all 89 lines of Christopher Smart’s 18th c. eulogy, and there are… Read The Post