Written Assignment 1: Where I’m From

Written Assignment 1: Where I’m From

Literacy is a major component of our individual lives, as well as society as a whole. It is something we are exposed to very early in life, and something that does not go away as we get older. Despite its constant presence, however, the specifics of how it affects us, how we interact with it, and how we conceptualize it often change over time. The way we use literacy often grows with us, and can both shape and be shaped by our experiences.

Literacy and You

For this assignment, you will reflect on your own history with literacy as well as the literacy of the content area you teach.
– Write your own “Where I’m From” poem modeled on George Ella Lyon’s poem (below),
-Or explore Georgia Ella Lyon’s website to see how educators across the content area have used her poem in their classrooms and create something similar based on your literacy history as connected to your content area.
http://www.georgeellalyon.com/where.html

In addition to your “Where I Am From” poem, or other type of media presentation (narrated video, infographic…) that has been approved by the course instructor,you are required to write a I page reflection paper where you address:

Book:
In the poem you created, what do you want the reader to know? What is it about? What does it say about you as a reader, thinker, and teacher?

Head:
What surprised you while completing this assignment? What challenged you? How does the content you teach influence who you are as a reader?

Heart:
– What did you learn about yourself? How would using this writing assignment help you learn more about your students?

See page 62 in Disrupting Thinking for more on the BHH (Book, Head, Heart) frame work.
All sources used should be cited in APA style, both in-text and in a reference list.

Where I’m From
George Ella Lyon

Where I’m From

I am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
I am from the dirt under the back porch.
(Black, glistening,
it tasted like beets.)
I am from the forsythia bush
the Dutch elm
whose long-gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.

I’m from fudge and eyeglasses,
from Imogene and Alafair.
I’m from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from Perk up! and Pipe down!
I’m from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.

I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger,
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.

Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
I am from those moments–
snapped before I budded —
leaf-fall from the family tree.