How Do You Communicate with a Writer?
You don’t raise your hand when you have a question. You wait until I’m across the room and yell, “HOW DO YOU SPELL ‘COMMUNICATE?'”
As patiently as possible I walk between rows and groups of desks, breathing slowly, trying not to let your disruption drive me crazy.
People are writing! I want to tell you. Don’t you know how difficult that is? What can’t you get a dictionary and figure it out for yourself? Or don’t worry about spelling at all. Just get your ideas down!
I know saying these things won’t do any good at all. I know that will produce writing without any scars. I’ll read about a really great summer vacation you took when you were in fourth grade.
When I get to your desk, I kneel down so I’m at eye level with you. You hold the pencil, ready.
“C-O,” I begin, and you write. I notice you still have a child’s hand. Not quite an adult, and not a baby anymore, but you’re living between those two worlds, trying to merge them. Trying to make sense out of a world you’re leaving and a world you’re entering.
I finish spelling the word, and you ask if I’d like to see what you’ve written.
“Sure,” I say, and you slide your paper toward me. I read it aloud softly and smile at the funny parts.
“That’s great,” I tell you. “You’re a good writer,” and I can tell by your eyes I’ve surprised you. “Do you like to write?” I inquire.
“Yes,” you say as it dawns on you that you do like to write, that you are a writer.
Try It
This week write a poem titled How To Spell “Communicate” and try to show the conflict of two perspectives. What merges? What emerges?
Photo by Paul Creative Commons via Flickr. Post by Callie Feyen.
I have been a fan of Callie Feyen’s writingfor quite some time but I finished this book in almost one sitting. If you have ever been in 8th grade, fallen in love, had a best friend, or loved reading, you will love this book. As the mother of an 8th grader, my other genuine hope is that my son will one day have a teacher as gifted as Callie.
—Celena Roldan
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Jody Collins says
Prompted by a glance at this morning’s tedious weather in Seattleland.
F-O-G
An invitation to peer and
lean in, pay attention to
what is hidden.
Muted slate, floating
cotton, suspended speech
whispers, “There is more to
see. Pause and breathe,
blink and listen as vision
becomes hearing and
the morning’s message
breaks through, “I’m here.”
Katie Spivey Brewster says
Call
Out
Merge
Meaning
Understanding
Nuance
Inquiry
Cry
Accept
Tell
Emerge
L.L. Barkat says
Love the progression of this acrostic poem, Katie. I’ve missed your poems here! 🙂