In 2017, I became the "Richard
Ruiz Artist-Scholar " in residence with a group of preservice
teachers from the University of Arizona studying for one summer in
Guanajuato, Mexico. As a U.S.-born TESOL and World Language teacher
educator and poet who has written in and about Mexico for many years,
including in my recent poetry collection, Imperfect
Tense, I was eager to share the ways in which
poetry writing soothes and fortifies feelings of displacement, anxiety,
wonder, and curiosity that can accompany immersive
translingual-transcultural experiences (crossing thresholds of language,
culture, nation, and race). It is my long-term goal to train educators
as teaching-artists: trained to engage in creative
and playful approaches to curriculum and instruction in and across
boundaries of many kinds.
To help a diverse group of preservice teachers to critically
and creatively navigate their emotional and sensory responses, I
designed poetry assignments to use for creative and agentive learning
during a study abroad education program. One student in the program was a
Mexican national; six of the nine were of Mexican heritage, and all
nine students described themselves as language learners in
Mexico—acquiring proficiency in academic Spanish as well as acquiring
the languages associated with the education fields in which they were
training (math, special education, language education, psychology). None
of these participants indicated they had much, if any, previous
creative writing experience in English or Spanish. The main purpose of
my course was to immerse these preservice educators in poetry writing,
encouraging them to extend the iPhone camera images through which they
documented their time abroad to include critical and aesthetic
reflection.
Inspired by the noted American poet W.C. Williams, a physician
who documented professional and personal observations through poetry, I
encouraged students to document 2 weeks of sensory observations in
Mexico. Inspired by Williams' famous line from Patterson: Book
1: "no ideas but in things," my instructions for students were
to take a few minutes each day to write what they experienced in
Mexico, keeping it simple and as full of concrete sensory detail as
possible. One participant, Caitlin, remarked how this exercise helped
her go beyond "having fun" toward meaningful reflection that felt new to
her:
Writing poetry has been making me more reflexive of the things
I've been doing. Because normally when I go on vacation, or whatever, I
just kinda like do it and I come home and I'm like "Oh I had fun!" But
by writing the poems and [journaling] it's like making me reflect more,
so I'm getting more out of it.
Many students, like Emilia, wrote about their homestay
experiences, where writing lines of observation elevated sensory
appreciation in her new context. Here are a few lines from Emilia's poem
about the "Casa de Sra. Caballeros."
Deep sleep, my eyes open, focusing on orange cream colored
walls, the sound of Paco, the yellow-headed amazon parrot, slowly
touching my ears.
Orange tile, that same color of papaya, glossier,
Square shaped, using my slept in and tired legs, one by one down three papaya colored steps.
…
The peaceful silence, slight sound of fire turned onto the
black and white colored stove. I take my seat, there in front of me sits
a tray of different kinds of pan dulce: the conchas, the bolillos, the donut
in the tray’s corner, with beautiful milk chocolate covering the round,
sweet, bread's top.
As students continued to document sensory images in free verse
drafts, I also taught them to write in traditional structures, such as
the "villanelle"
form that requires three-line stanzas that repeat the first and third
lines and rhyme the second lines throughout the entire length of a
six-stanza poem. Writing in form, specifically the villanelle, gave
students the chance to twist and turn a commonly heard phrase or image
into resonant meaning. In Caitlin's case, she said every day her host
mother asked "¿Cómo les fue?" [How did it go?].
Limited by her Spanish language skills, Caitlin always answered with one
word "bien" [well], unable to provide more complete
or nuanced answers. The bilingual poem gave her a place to articulate
what she wished she could say: the wonders she was
observing and the beloveds whom she missed back home. Poetry and
artistic engagement cultivated aesthetic as well as critical, social
justice abilities to exist in the nuanced and multifaceted space of both-and. The poem illustrates her ability to sit in
the tension of "both" enjoying immersion in a new language, culture, and
landscape "and" also experiencing deep longing, loneliness, and even
remorse. "Both-and" skills may help teachers value similar complexities
they observe in their students, classrooms, and schools as well as in
complicated bilingual proficiencies. In this case, Caitlin drew on
emergent Spanish skills to value study abroad linguistic and cultural
experiences and simultaneously expressed her longing in English for
people and places back home.
Homestay Question
by Caitlin Welty
“¿Cómo les fue?”
Bien, sparkling turquoise water warmed my muscles, although,
I miss you every day.
Seared into my brain, “cinco, seis, siete”
Dancing in a tangle of arms, yet the steps flow.
“¿Cómo les fue?”
I hear the whisper of a familiar song, stay
a little longer and help me forego
the thoughts of you every day.
A stroll through the alleys made my worries fade away,
Vendors all around, but they come and go.
“¿Cómo les fue?”
A teacher expressing his frustration with the school system, which makes him say,
All students should feel valued y contentos
I strive for that every day.
I don’t want to leave, I want to stay
in my new found home, Guanajuato.
“¿Cómo les fue?”
I miss you every day.
Writing formal poetry and studying formal craft helped our
group discuss the importance of word choice (denotation and
connotation); rhythm; pacing; clarity of reference and deictics in
language use (e.g., where ambiguous words, such as here or there, depend on context
for meaning), and many other themes that many students indicated as
useful for making connections between learning to write poetry, learning
about another language and culture, and learning how to teach diverse
K–12 students. For example, many students in the Mexico program echoed
sentiments expressed by TESOL preservice teachers I work with who are
studying abroad in the United States. For example, Kexin from mainland
China reflected in a postcourse interview (Cahnmann-Taylor &
Hwang, in press):
Kexin: Whenever I read and revise my old works [poems], I
become more skillful and sensitive to the use of words, structure, and
ways of expression. Therefore, [as an ESOL teacher myself] when I teach
literacy, I’d ask my students put more emphasis on revising old works,
so they can develop introspecting and critical thinking
ability.
One very important theme in our poetry course in Mexico was
learning new and different ways to see what is all around us. Two
students, Grissel and Joselin, talked about not only how the writing
itself helped awaken their sensory perception but also how much they
learned about Guanajuato from peers. They both described how images in
peers' free verse and formal poems awakened them to experiences they had
failed to notice before while passing the same sights and sounds.
Grissel said,
I'm becoming more aware of stuff like in Dylan's poem last week
where he mentioned the statue, I hadn't even seen it…so now I'm like
oh, there it is! It's like I feel what [my peers] are feeling through
their lenses…I'm seeing through their lenses and I don't see it as they
do. It's just crazy, it's like I'm living it through them.
Viewing the same poetry assignments and lived experiences
through peers' creative writing expanded both our individual and
collective abilities to notice and make meaning in our new impermanent
home abroad.
Writing poems was also helpful as many of these young teachers
in training were learning how to shift perceptions in what they found of
value in their surroundings. For example, Marley discussed how poetry
writing helped her examine her relative economic privilege compared to
the laborers she observed in Mexico City, where the group stayed for the
first days of their study abroad. Marley wrote this poem based on a
Theodore Roethke poem, "Dolor."
Students were to imitate Roethke's first line: "I have known the
inexorable sadness of pencils," concretizing an abstract emotion through
careful description of objects in a specific place. In Marley's poem,
she shifted preconceptions of theft we had all been warned about in
Mexico City by personifying tiredness as theft, one that leaves her
sentient to the hard working people who routinely care for the urban
place and its people. An excerpt from the poem:
I have known the overwhelming exhaustion of streets,
Broken and uneven just like the soles of my feet.
The tiredness treads time like thieves
We discussed the way Marley, Emilia, and other poets
incorporated the lexicon and grammar of Spanish into the English worlds
of their poems or how their bilingual identities might be honored
through verse. As their poetry teacher and language educator, I felt a
responsibility to serve as vulnerable guide, one who was willing to
share my observations and assumptions and reflect on them by sharing my
own very new poetry drafts. Writing vulnerably alongside my students may
have helped them expose more of themselves in their poems: that one
student wrestled with the ways in which Mexicans were represented as
white on milk cartons and other advertisements; that another secreted a
hearing aid behind long dark hair; another had a sister who struggled
with a life threatening illness.
Poetry, I argue, helped create a dialogic classroom, a two-way
street where new teaching artists might exchange meaningful, personal,
and of course appropriate observations with students. My hope was that
these new teaching artists would return to their K–12 classrooms in the
United States as if these, too, were like new countries, observing and
documenting new colors, artifacts, languages, and values that students
bring into their classrooms with wonder and care. If poetry writing can
help teachers "get more out of" experience abroad, as Caitlin suggested
early in our time together, perhaps poetry writing might train U.S.
teachers to get more complete pictures of their students' complicated
cultural and linguistic lives as well.
Reference
Cahnmann-Taylor, M., & Hwang, Y. (in press). Poetic
habits of mind in TESOL teacher preparation. Language and
Education.
Additional Resources
● Rag
Queen Periodical: Two of my own poems published
after I returned from teaching poetry in Guanajuato, Mexico:
o “Eleven ways An American Family Looks at Mexico City, 2017”
o “Villanelle, Guanajuato Mexico”
● “The
Power of Words to Save Us”: Interview with Marie Howe on
poetry as witness, from the On Being Project.
● Villanelle:
Glossary term and examples of the villanelle from the Poetry
Foundation.
● “UA
Initiative Working to Improve Literacy in Mexico”: Article on
the Richard Ruiz Scholar-Artist Residency Program 2017, Guanajuato,
Mexico, from UA News.
Melisa (Misha)
Cahnmann-Taylor is professor and program chair of TESOL and world
language education at the University of Georgia. She is the author of
four books, including a book of poems, Imperfect
Tense, and three books on arts-based education research and
practice. |