Spoken Word

We kicked off our program by attending a performance of spoken word at BAM, which was very cool indeed.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

To help with structure, I gave them fill-in-the-blank poems.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

Totally Self-Involved

The principal reason spoken word is a big hit with teenagers is because it gives them permission to delve deeply into a topic they find universally fascinating: their own thoughts and feelings.

They were immediately entranced by the topics of the poems they heard, which seemed to split into several distinct categories: Love, Racism, Hometown Pride, Politics, Self-Realization.

A couple of the kids messed up, but they handled it well, and they were all roundly applauded for poems that I, at least, found to be full of lively nuance and colorful imagery.

They are also self-prescriptive, at least in terms of what they think I should do with them, which boils down to "Leave us alone to do whatever we want."

This would be a great way to sneak in some vocabulary too.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

I suppose this method has worked with other teachers, but there's no tenacity like Reed tenacity, and I simply refuse to give up, even when my own sanity is at stake, 161 days into the school year.

In fact, spoken word lost one of its masters last week, with the passing of Gil Scott-Heron.

Visual Thesaurus editor Ben Zimmer has a great post on the artist here.

I've always found it interesting, having had a few Bad Classes of my own, that the kids in the Bad Class are usually quite well aware of their reputation.

The other thing I've noticed to be almost universally true about Bad Classes is that individually most of the involved kids are perfectly fine, moral human beings; there's just something about the dynamics of their particular combo platter of people that makes them Bad.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

Also, selected clips from the show pop up on YouTube and Vimeo.

We kicked off our program by attending a performance of spoken word at BAM, which was very cool indeed.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

Dig in!

And their work reflected who they are: poems about young love, young parenthood, living in the ghetto, and dreams of being someone different from who they are today.

In "Song of Myself," Walt Whitman began, "I celebrate myself, and sing myself," and I was glad to help my kids do the same.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

Speak Up!

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

A couple of the kids messed up, but they handled it well, and they were all roundly applauded for poems that I, at least, found to be full of lively nuance and colorful imagery.

I'd give the first student in the class (my students happen to sit in a large circle because that works best in my classroom) a word (trying for something both loaded and ambiguous, such as "secrets") and then each student would add a word.

Of course, I wish that they had moved on to the next part of his poem, which celebrates the community of humanity, but, on the other hand, I was glad that someone was celebrating each of them.

For those of you without access to a production of spoken word (although I would suggest looking around, since even a cursory glance at the program bios for the artists we saw suggests spoken word is thriving at cafes around the country), check out "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam," which ran on HBO for a few seasons, and is available on DVD.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

They were immediately entranced by the topics of the poems they heard, which seemed to split into several distinct categories: Love, Racism, Hometown Pride, Politics, Self-Realization.

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

If your students have had more formal training in poetry, then these ideas can be deepened and expanded.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

Each student would write a sentence and then we'd go around the room and share them, without verbal judgment.

A couple of the kids messed up, but they handled it well, and they were all roundly applauded for poems that I, at least, found to be full of lively nuance and colorful imagery.

The other thing I've noticed to be almost universally true about Bad Classes is that individually most of the involved kids are perfectly fine, moral human beings; there's just something about the dynamics of their particular combo platter of people that makes them Bad.

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

I also saw that there were periods of silent writing in my classroom, something I had never seen before.

They're all smart enough kids; they just don't want to care about reading or writing.

As for my kids, we were able to take part in a wonderful program from the Brooklyn Academy of Music — the Brooklyn Reads!

For those of you without access to a production of spoken word (although I would suggest looking around, since even a cursory glance at the program bios for the artists we saw suggests spoken word is thriving at cafes around the country), check out "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam," which ran on HBO for a few seasons, and is available on DVD.

They are self-identifying, of course.

Recently, finally, I was able to break through to them in this class, thanks to a Spoken Word Poetry unit.

There are a number of excellent books available on teaching poetry, as a quick search on Amazon or at your local library will quickly show.

An empty page can be intimidating to even the most motivated writer, but blanks give you the incorrect impression that there's not all that much for you to do.

A couple of the kids messed up, but they handled it well, and they were all roundly applauded for poems that I, at least, found to be full of lively nuance and colorful imagery.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

Since I teach upperclassmen, and am not particularly upset about swear words in my own life, I try to maintain an appropriate level of latitude, especially when my kids are writing plays, fiction or poetry.

They're all smart enough kids; they just don't want to care about reading or writing.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

For those of you without access to a production of spoken word (although I would suggest looking around, since even a cursory glance at the program bios for the artists we saw suggests spoken word is thriving at cafes around the country), check out "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam," which ran on HBO for a few seasons, and is available on DVD.

For those of you without access to a production of spoken word (although I would suggest looking around, since even a cursory glance at the program bios for the artists we saw suggests spoken word is thriving at cafes around the country), check out "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam," which ran on HBO for a few seasons, and is available on DVD.

Story-telling, spoken song and poetry slams all fit under this category.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

In "Song of Myself," Walt Whitman began, "I celebrate myself, and sing myself," and I was glad to help my kids do the same.

The other thing I've noticed to be almost universally true about Bad Classes is that individually most of the involved kids are perfectly fine, moral human beings; there's just something about the dynamics of their particular combo platter of people that makes them Bad.

As a recent New Yorker profile of him depicted, Scott-Heron struggled mightily with personal demons; yet his work was a linguistic, artistic revolution at times.

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

For those of you without access to a production of spoken word (although I would suggest looking around, since even a cursory glance at the program bios for the artists we saw suggests spoken word is thriving at cafes around the country), check out "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam," which ran on HBO for a few seasons, and is available on DVD.

This drives me nuts — I always end up responding, "But you don't have to be!"

And I heard the appreciative snapping (a visiting Teaching Artist had told them that real poets snap, not applaud) when a student read out a powerful piece.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

This drives me nuts — I always end up responding, "But you don't have to be!"

I am sure that somewhere out there, there are spoken word poets exploring the NBA standings or the uses of corn, but as I mentioned, the generally accepted topics are not broad, and so there's nowhere to go, it seems, but down: Down into how you feel about love, or how love has hurt you, or how love is disappointing, or what love you have to give.

Sub-categories were any mix of the above (e.g.,

As a recent New Yorker profile of him depicted, Scott-Heron struggled mightily with personal demons; yet his work was a linguistic, artistic revolution at times.

I suppose this method has worked with other teachers, but there's no tenacity like Reed tenacity, and I simply refuse to give up, even when my own sanity is at stake, 161 days into the school year.

Visual Thesaurus editor Ben Zimmer has a great post on the artist here.

As a recent New Yorker profile of him depicted, Scott-Heron struggled mightily with personal demons; yet his work was a linguistic, artistic revolution at times.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

Did I grow tired of the narcissism?

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

One last Teachers at Work column for the school year next month, y'all, since my last day is June 28th.

[Aside: Just so you're not misled, let me clearly state that language is a concern.

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

As for my kids, we were able to take part in a wonderful program from the Brooklyn Academy of Music — the Brooklyn Reads!

For those of you without access to a production of spoken word (although I would suggest looking around, since even a cursory glance at the program bios for the artists we saw suggests spoken word is thriving at cafes around the country), check out "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam," which ran on HBO for a few seasons, and is available on DVD.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

And once they began to do so, something interesting happened.

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

An empty page can be intimidating to even the most motivated writer, but blanks give you the incorrect impression that there's not all that much for you to do.

I'd give the first student in the class (my students happen to sit in a large circle because that works best in my classroom) a word (trying for something both loaded and ambiguous, such as "secrets") and then each student would add a word.

However, the "N-word" and any other slurs are absolutely forbidden in my classroom, and they do come up on the show and in live performance.

Exercises

Spoken word is so distinctive that it's easy to sink into self-parody in writing it; in fact, my personal feeling is that some of the work I heard — both student and adult — crossed that line.

I'm always asking them to look up and out; here, instead, was a chance to look down and in.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

This is a great opportunity to show students the best spoken word poets working at this time.

Spoken word does not have much room for humor, and I am a person who prefers, by nature, to find any available reason to laugh.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

It turned out to be a great experience.

They're all smart enough kids; they just don't want to care about reading or writing.

A couple of the kids messed up, but they handled it well, and they were all roundly applauded for poems that I, at least, found to be full of lively nuance and colorful imagery.

More than just once or twice, I've had a student patiently explain to me, as I struggled for order, "We're just a bad class, Ms. Reed."

Also, selected clips from the show pop up on YouTube and Vimeo.

I am sure that somewhere out there, there are spoken word poets exploring the NBA standings or the uses of corn, but as I mentioned, the generally accepted topics are not broad, and so there's nowhere to go, it seems, but down: Down into how you feel about love, or how love has hurt you, or how love is disappointing, or what love you have to give.

The other thing I've noticed to be almost universally true about Bad Classes is that individually most of the involved kids are perfectly fine, moral human beings; there's just something about the dynamics of their particular combo platter of people that makes them Bad.

This drives me nuts — I always end up responding, "But you don't have to be!"

The other thing I've noticed to be almost universally true about Bad Classes is that individually most of the involved kids are perfectly fine, moral human beings; there's just something about the dynamics of their particular combo platter of people that makes them Bad.

Dig in!

A couple of the kids messed up, but they handled it well, and they were all roundly applauded for poems that I, at least, found to be full of lively nuance and colorful imagery.

This burrowing down is essentially the precise opposite of what we usually do in English, when I ask them to make connections between their lives and literature.

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

Because they are so terribly persnickety, I had to find very low-interference ways of connecting with them.

In fact, spoken word lost one of its masters last week, with the passing of Gil Scott-Heron.

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

We kicked off our program by attending a performance of spoken word at BAM, which was very cool indeed.

We used "Brooklyn is...." as location was something we all had in common, and then moved on to "You're so..."

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

We began to share with each other, in a way we never had before, the things we thought.

To help with structure, I gave them fill-in-the-blank poems.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

We kicked off our program by attending a performance of spoken word at BAM, which was very cool indeed.

For those of you without access to a production of spoken word (although I would suggest looking around, since even a cursory glance at the program bios for the artists we saw suggests spoken word is thriving at cafes around the country), check out "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam," which ran on HBO for a few seasons, and is available on DVD.

Did I grow tired of the narcissism?

Also, selected clips from the show pop up on YouTube and Vimeo.

To help with this, we wrote diamond poems (First line = one word; Second line = two words; etc.).

Sub-categories were any mix of the above (e.g.,

Since I teach upperclassmen, and am not particularly upset about swear words in my own life, I try to maintain an appropriate level of latitude, especially when my kids are writing plays, fiction or poetry.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

Totally Self-Involved

The principal reason spoken word is a big hit with teenagers is because it gives them permission to delve deeply into a topic they find universally fascinating: their own thoughts and feelings.

I am sure that somewhere out there, there are spoken word poets exploring the NBA standings or the uses of corn, but as I mentioned, the generally accepted topics are not broad, and so there's nowhere to go, it seems, but down: Down into how you feel about love, or how love has hurt you, or how love is disappointing, or what love you have to give.

Another technique I used was to read a poem with them, and discuss it, briefly, and then encourage them to write something similar.

I suppose this method has worked with other teachers, but there's no tenacity like Reed tenacity, and I simply refuse to give up, even when my own sanity is at stake, 161 days into the school year.

And I heard the appreciative snapping (a visiting Teaching Artist had told them that real poets snap, not applaud) when a student read out a powerful piece.

I'd give the first student in the class (my students happen to sit in a large circle because that works best in my classroom) a word (trying for something both loaded and ambiguous, such as "secrets") and then each student would add a word.

I'd give the first student in the class (my students happen to sit in a large circle because that works best in my classroom) a word (trying for something both loaded and ambiguous, such as "secrets") and then each student would add a word.

They were immediately entranced by the topics of the poems they heard, which seemed to split into several distinct categories: Love, Racism, Hometown Pride, Politics, Self-Realization.

It turned out to be a great experience.

Songs of Themselves

In the end, what really put the fear of God in my kids was the fact that they had to perform their work in the culminating presentation.

Also, selected clips from the show pop up on YouTube and Vimeo.

One last Teachers at Work column for the school year next month, y'all, since my last day is June 28th.

Story-telling, spoken song and poetry slams all fit under this category.

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

I suppose this method has worked with other teachers, but there's no tenacity like Reed tenacity, and I simply refuse to give up, even when my own sanity is at stake, 161 days into the school year.

I've always found it interesting, having had a few Bad Classes of my own, that the kids in the Bad Class are usually quite well aware of their reputation.

Here are a few ideas that worked:

Giving them a prompt was very valuable.

We'd create a word wall.

More than just once or twice, I've had a student patiently explain to me, as I struggled for order, "We're just a bad class, Ms. Reed."

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

Perhaps this unit could be of help to you in your classroom in the future.

And their work reflected who they are: poems about young love, young parenthood, living in the ghetto, and dreams of being someone different from who they are today.

They were immediately entranced by the topics of the poems they heard, which seemed to split into several distinct categories: Love, Racism, Hometown Pride, Politics, Self-Realization.

I suppose this method has worked with other teachers, but there's no tenacity like Reed tenacity, and I simply refuse to give up, even when my own sanity is at stake, 161 days into the school year.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

Since I teach upperclassmen, and am not particularly upset about swear words in my own life, I try to maintain an appropriate level of latitude, especially when my kids are writing plays, fiction or poetry.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

Also, selected clips from the show pop up on YouTube and Vimeo.

Songs of Themselves

In the end, what really put the fear of God in my kids was the fact that they had to perform their work in the culminating presentation.

I am sure that somewhere out there, there are spoken word poets exploring the NBA standings or the uses of corn, but as I mentioned, the generally accepted topics are not broad, and so there's nowhere to go, it seems, but down: Down into how you feel about love, or how love has hurt you, or how love is disappointing, or what love you have to give.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

Since I teach upperclassmen, and am not particularly upset about swear words in my own life, I try to maintain an appropriate level of latitude, especially when my kids are writing plays, fiction or poetry.

They really fought me on this one, but some truly lovely poems came out of it, and I think they grasped the idea that limits are sometimes a poet's friend.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

I've always found it interesting, having had a few Bad Classes of my own, that the kids in the Bad Class are usually quite well aware of their reputation.

Recently, finally, I was able to break through to them in this class, thanks to a Spoken Word Poetry unit.

They are also self-prescriptive, at least in terms of what they think I should do with them, which boils down to "Leave us alone to do whatever we want."

And their work reflected who they are: poems about young love, young parenthood, living in the ghetto, and dreams of being someone different from who they are today.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

They are also self-prescriptive, at least in terms of what they think I should do with them, which boils down to "Leave us alone to do whatever we want."

This burrowing down is essentially the precise opposite of what we usually do in English, when I ask them to make connections between their lives and literature.

More than just once or twice, I've had a student patiently explain to me, as I struggled for order, "We're just a bad class, Ms. Reed."

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

I suppose this method has worked with other teachers, but there's no tenacity like Reed tenacity, and I simply refuse to give up, even when my own sanity is at stake, 161 days into the school year.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

Visual Thesaurus editor Ben Zimmer has a great post on the artist here.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

A couple of the kids messed up, but they handled it well, and they were all roundly applauded for poems that I, at least, found to be full of lively nuance and colorful imagery.

Of course, I wish that they had moved on to the next part of his poem, which celebrates the community of humanity, but, on the other hand, I was glad that someone was celebrating each of them.

They are also self-prescriptive, at least in terms of what they think I should do with them, which boils down to "Leave us alone to do whatever we want."

As a recent New Yorker profile of him depicted, Scott-Heron struggled mightily with personal demons; yet his work was a linguistic, artistic revolution at times.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

I am sure that somewhere out there, there are spoken word poets exploring the NBA standings or the uses of corn, but as I mentioned, the generally accepted topics are not broad, and so there's nowhere to go, it seems, but down: Down into how you feel about love, or how love has hurt you, or how love is disappointing, or what love you have to give.

Of course, I wish that they had moved on to the next part of his poem, which celebrates the community of humanity, but, on the other hand, I was glad that someone was celebrating each of them.

I'd give the first student in the class (my students happen to sit in a large circle because that works best in my classroom) a word (trying for something both loaded and ambiguous, such as "secrets") and then each student would add a word.

If I were to get one teaching-related tattoo, it would read "Poetry does not need to rhyme."

Story-telling, spoken song and poetry slams all fit under this category.

Visual Thesaurus editor Ben Zimmer has a great post on the artist here.

This is a great opportunity to show students the best spoken word poets working at this time.

More than just once or twice, I've had a student patiently explain to me, as I struggled for order, "We're just a bad class, Ms. Reed."

For instance, I added "confide" and "tacit" to the word wall for "secrets."

Of course, I wish that they had moved on to the next part of his poem, which celebrates the community of humanity, but, on the other hand, I was glad that someone was celebrating each of them.

I've always found it interesting, having had a few Bad Classes of my own, that the kids in the Bad Class are usually quite well aware of their reputation.

I am sure that somewhere out there, there are spoken word poets exploring the NBA standings or the uses of corn, but as I mentioned, the generally accepted topics are not broad, and so there's nowhere to go, it seems, but down: Down into how you feel about love, or how love has hurt you, or how love is disappointing, or what love you have to give.

I've always found it interesting, having had a few Bad Classes of my own, that the kids in the Bad Class are usually quite well aware of their reputation.

In "Song of Myself," Walt Whitman began, "I celebrate myself, and sing myself," and I was glad to help my kids do the same.

As you might have guessed, I have a Bad Class this year.

There were times, especially in the final performance of students from 10 schools, when I felt like I was at a competition called Who Hates Their Parents the Most? (with a side competition called My 15-Year-Old Heart Was Broken Worse Than Yours).

Yes, at times, I did.

As for my kids, we were able to take part in a wonderful program from the Brooklyn Academy of Music — the Brooklyn Reads!

If your students have had more formal training in poetry, then these ideas can be deepened and expanded.

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

I've always found it interesting, having had a few Bad Classes of my own, that the kids in the Bad Class are usually quite well aware of their reputation.

I'm always asking them to look up and out; here, instead, was a chance to look down and in.

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

We kicked off our program by attending a performance of spoken word at BAM, which was very cool indeed.

I'm always asking them to look up and out; here, instead, was a chance to look down and in.

Totally Self-Involved

The principal reason spoken word is a big hit with teenagers is because it gives them permission to delve deeply into a topic they find universally fascinating: their own thoughts and feelings.

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

Recently, finally, I was able to break through to them in this class, thanks to a Spoken Word Poetry unit.

We used "Brooklyn is...." as location was something we all had in common, and then moved on to "You're so..."

In "Song of Myself," Walt Whitman began, "I celebrate myself, and sing myself," and I was glad to help my kids do the same.

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

They really fought me on this one, but some truly lovely poems came out of it, and I think they grasped the idea that limits are sometimes a poet's friend.

They are also self-prescriptive, at least in terms of what they think I should do with them, which boils down to "Leave us alone to do whatever we want."

Exercises

Spoken word is so distinctive that it's easy to sink into self-parody in writing it; in fact, my personal feeling is that some of the work I heard — both student and adult — crossed that line.

We especially liked writing "I am _______" poems as well as one that begins "You are so annoying, because you _______."

Recently, finally, I was able to break through to them in this class, thanks to a Spoken Word Poetry unit.

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

More than just once or twice, I've had a student patiently explain to me, as I struggled for order, "We're just a bad class, Ms. Reed."

For those of you without access to a production of spoken word (although I would suggest looking around, since even a cursory glance at the program bios for the artists we saw suggests spoken word is thriving at cafes around the country), check out "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam," which ran on HBO for a few seasons, and is available on DVD.

The other thing I've noticed to be almost universally true about Bad Classes is that individually most of the involved kids are perfectly fine, moral human beings; there's just something about the dynamics of their particular combo platter of people that makes them Bad.

Totally Self-Involved

The principal reason spoken word is a big hit with teenagers is because it gives them permission to delve deeply into a topic they find universally fascinating: their own thoughts and feelings.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

An empty page can be intimidating to even the most motivated writer, but blanks give you the incorrect impression that there's not all that much for you to do.

I am sure that somewhere out there, there are spoken word poets exploring the NBA standings or the uses of corn, but as I mentioned, the generally accepted topics are not broad, and so there's nowhere to go, it seems, but down: Down into how you feel about love, or how love has hurt you, or how love is disappointing, or what love you have to give.

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

They were immediately entranced by the topics of the poems they heard, which seemed to split into several distinct categories: Love, Racism, Hometown Pride, Politics, Self-Realization.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

My students, all African-, Caribbean- or Latino-American, were visibly excited to walk into a theatre where a hip-hop DJ was blasting their music and where everyone onstage looked and acted like (grown up versions of) them.

They really fought me on this one, but some truly lovely poems came out of it, and I think they grasped the idea that limits are sometimes a poet's friend.

After a teaching artist from BAM showed them this technique, we often used to create group poems, or just to spark words to begin individual writing.

I am sure that somewhere out there, there are spoken word poets exploring the NBA standings or the uses of corn, but as I mentioned, the generally accepted topics are not broad, and so there's nowhere to go, it seems, but down: Down into how you feel about love, or how love has hurt you, or how love is disappointing, or what love you have to give.

(Or, possibly, "Are you sure you want to ask me that?")

They're all smart enough kids; they just don't want to care about reading or writing.

I've always found it interesting, having had a few Bad Classes of my own, that the kids in the Bad Class are usually quite well aware of their reputation.

They are also self-prescriptive, at least in terms of what they think I should do with them, which boils down to "Leave us alone to do whatever we want."

Totally Self-Involved

The principal reason spoken word is a big hit with teenagers is because it gives them permission to delve deeply into a topic they find universally fascinating: their own thoughts and feelings.

As you might have guessed, I have a Bad Class this year.

We began to share with each other, in a way we never had before, the things we thought.

Nothing like a goal, especially a goal that involves 250 of your peers watching you, to motivate.

I don't think that's happened very much in their lives.

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

The authenticity was, at times, difficult to listen to, but I was thankful to have the chance to hear what their truths are.

Did I grow tired of the narcissism?

There were times, especially in the final performance of students from 10 schools, when I felt like I was at a competition called Who Hates Their Parents the Most? (with a side competition called My 15-Year-Old Heart Was Broken Worse Than Yours).

There were times, especially in the final performance of students from 10 schools, when I felt like I was at a competition called Who Hates Their Parents the Most? (with a side competition called My 15-Year-Old Heart Was Broken Worse Than Yours).

In fact, spoken word lost one of its masters last week, with the passing of Gil Scott-Heron.

However, the "N-word" and any other slurs are absolutely forbidden in my classroom, and they do come up on the show and in live performance.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

Totally Self-Involved

The principal reason spoken word is a big hit with teenagers is because it gives them permission to delve deeply into a topic they find universally fascinating: their own thoughts and feelings.

They were immediately entranced by the topics of the poems they heard, which seemed to split into several distinct categories: Love, Racism, Hometown Pride, Politics, Self-Realization.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

Spoken word does not have much room for humor, and I am a person who prefers, by nature, to find any available reason to laugh.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

Motivation and topic weren't a problem, but structure and technique needed some help.

This required some thoughtful comments on my part.]

The other thing I've noticed to be almost universally true about Bad Classes is that individually most of the involved kids are perfectly fine, moral human beings; there's just something about the dynamics of their particular combo platter of people that makes them Bad.

Recently, finally, I was able to break through to them in this class, thanks to a Spoken Word Poetry unit.

For example, we read William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow" and talked about the descriptive aspects of it, and how readers must bring their own meaning to what they've read (something my students proved shockingly good at — one boy nearly convinced me it was about ghosts!).

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

There are a number of excellent books available on teaching poetry, as a quick search on Amazon or at your local library will quickly show.

They are self-identifying, of course.

And their work reflected who they are: poems about young love, young parenthood, living in the ghetto, and dreams of being someone different from who they are today.

There were times, especially in the final performance of students from 10 schools, when I felt like I was at a competition called Who Hates Their Parents the Most? (with a side competition called My 15-Year-Old Heart Was Broken Worse Than Yours).

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

In fact, spoken word lost one of its masters last week, with the passing of Gil Scott-Heron.

One last Teachers at Work column for the school year next month, y'all, since my last day is June 28th.

The other thing I've noticed to be almost universally true about Bad Classes is that individually most of the involved kids are perfectly fine, moral human beings; there's just something about the dynamics of their particular combo platter of people that makes them Bad.

Because they are so terribly persnickety, I had to find very low-interference ways of connecting with them.

This is a great opportunity to show students the best spoken word poets working at this time.

They really fought me on this one, but some truly lovely poems came out of it, and I think they grasped the idea that limits are sometimes a poet's friend.

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

I also saw that there were periods of silent writing in my classroom, something I had never seen before.

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

I've always found it interesting, having had a few Bad Classes of my own, that the kids in the Bad Class are usually quite well aware of their reputation.

Here are a few ideas that worked:

Giving them a prompt was very valuable.

The authenticity was, at times, difficult to listen to, but I was thankful to have the chance to hear what their truths are.

I'd give the first student in the class (my students happen to sit in a large circle because that works best in my classroom) a word (trying for something both loaded and ambiguous, such as "secrets") and then each student would add a word.

We used "Brooklyn is...." as location was something we all had in common, and then moved on to "You're so..."

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

I am sure that somewhere out there, there are spoken word poets exploring the NBA standings or the uses of corn, but as I mentioned, the generally accepted topics are not broad, and so there's nowhere to go, it seems, but down: Down into how you feel about love, or how love has hurt you, or how love is disappointing, or what love you have to give.

Sub-categories were any mix of the above (e.g.,

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

There are a wide variety of fill-in-the-blank poems on the Internet.

The other thing I've noticed to be almost universally true about Bad Classes is that individually most of the involved kids are perfectly fine, moral human beings; there's just something about the dynamics of their particular combo platter of people that makes them Bad.

I suppose this method has worked with other teachers, but there's no tenacity like Reed tenacity, and I simply refuse to give up, even when my own sanity is at stake, 161 days into the school year.

And I heard the appreciative snapping (a visiting Teaching Artist had told them that real poets snap, not applaud) when a student read out a powerful piece.

As for my kids, we were able to take part in a wonderful program from the Brooklyn Academy of Music — the Brooklyn Reads!

I suppose this method has worked with other teachers, but there's no tenacity like Reed tenacity, and I simply refuse to give up, even when my own sanity is at stake, 161 days into the school year.

It turned out to be a great experience.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

Nothing like a goal, especially a goal that involves 250 of your peers watching you, to motivate.

This is a great opportunity to show students the best spoken word poets working at this time.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

This drives me nuts — I always end up responding, "But you don't have to be!"

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

"Spoken word" is a bit of a catch-all term, often applied to any performance that involves someone talking on a stage for which other terms — musical, theatrical, dance — don't fit.

There were times, especially in the final performance of students from 10 schools, when I felt like I was at a competition called Who Hates Their Parents the Most? (with a side competition called My 15-Year-Old Heart Was Broken Worse Than Yours).

Song of Myself: Spoken Word Poetry in the Classroom
May 30, 2011
By Shannon Reed

Every teacher can, and will, tell you stories about their worst class.

Here are a few ideas that worked:

Giving them a prompt was very valuable.

In fact, spoken word lost one of its masters last week, with the passing of Gil Scott-Heron.

There are a number of excellent books available on teaching poetry, as a quick search on Amazon or at your local library will quickly show.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

There are a number of excellent books available on teaching poetry, as a quick search on Amazon or at your local library will quickly show.

Exercises

Spoken word is so distinctive that it's easy to sink into self-parody in writing it; in fact, my personal feeling is that some of the work I heard — both student and adult — crossed that line.

They really fought me on this one, but some truly lovely poems came out of it, and I think they grasped the idea that limits are sometimes a poet's friend.

Because they are so terribly persnickety, I had to find very low-interference ways of connecting with them.

I'd give the first student in the class (my students happen to sit in a large circle because that works best in my classroom) a word (trying for something both loaded and ambiguous, such as "secrets") and then each student would add a word.

After a teaching artist from BAM showed them this technique, we often used to create group poems, or just to spark words to begin individual writing.

And I heard the appreciative snapping (a visiting Teaching Artist had told them that real poets snap, not applaud) when a student read out a powerful piece.

Oh, and one last tip: I've found that I need to state clearly and at the beginning of every poetry writing exercise: "Poetry does NOT need to rhyme."

I'd give the first student in the class (my students happen to sit in a large circle because that works best in my classroom) a word (trying for something both loaded and ambiguous, such as "secrets") and then each student would add a word.

I suppose this method has worked with other teachers, but there's no tenacity like Reed tenacity, and I simply refuse to give up, even when my own sanity is at stake, 161 days into the school year.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

For those of you without access to a production of spoken word (although I would suggest looking around, since even a cursory glance at the program bios for the artists we saw suggests spoken word is thriving at cafes around the country), check out "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry Jam," which ran on HBO for a few seasons, and is available on DVD.

We kicked off our program by attending a performance of spoken word at BAM, which was very cool indeed.

Spoken word does not have much room for humor, and I am a person who prefers, by nature, to find any available reason to laugh.

One last Teachers at Work column for the school year next month, y'all, since my last day is June 28th.

They are also self-prescriptive, at least in terms of what they think I should do with them, which boils down to "Leave us alone to do whatever we want."

Recently, finally, I was able to break through to them in this class, thanks to a Spoken Word Poetry unit.

In fact, stories that begin "Well, one time, MY class..." and end with students suspended/hanging out windows/being forced to put the matches down are standards in faculty lounges.

They are also self-prescriptive, at least in terms of what they think I should do with them, which boils down to "Leave us alone to do whatever we want."

After a teaching artist from BAM showed them this technique, we often used to create group poems, or just to spark words to begin individual writing.

They are self-identifying, of course.

I began to hear phrases that were memorable bites of bitterness towards absent parents ("My GED Mom writing me from jail to tell me to go to college") or snippets of sharp insight about their circumstances ("as I walk through my hood, I see my friends and their babies").

Visual Thesaurus editor Ben Zimmer has a great post on the artist here.

Of course, I wish that they had moved on to the next part of his poem, which celebrates the community of humanity, but, on the other hand, I was glad that someone was celebrating each of them.

I'm lucky (heh) enough to have this class twice a day, including for an English-based elective, so I've spent much of the year struggling to find a way to engage them in learning.

In fact, spoken word lost one of its masters last week, with the passing of Gil Scott-Heron.

If you re-check the topics I've mentioned above, you'll see why.

I didn't want my students to embrace narcissism over literary technique, so I tried my best to structure their writing.

I'm always asking them to look up and out; here, instead, was a chance to look down and in.

This required some thoughtful comments on my part.]