In October, eight 7th grade girls at French American International School spent 3 days using writing to explore who they are on the inside versus who they show to the outside world using our "Inside-Out" curriculum.
From the prompt “My name is...”
My name is a strong wind blowing forever It is made from the heat of a dragon’s flame and the soft lull of the ocean, I found it in my great grandmother’s many creations, My name can make me run wildly through any obstacle, sink into a roiling ocean of my imagination, or close my eyes for just a second of calm. If I lost my name I would follow a trail of adventure with a majestic dragon to find it.
We created Black Out poems by taking magazines, selecting words we were drawn to, circling them and then blacking out all of the other words. Here's Emma's: Struggle in triumph Groundbreaking dream for freedom. Passionate reality, impressive effort reach skyward to emit a glow of beautiful art and history. Individuals share their treasures reminding us all that appreciating experience is essential to tell this story.
Here is Sydney's Black Out Poem:
In a previous life, I liked offering guidance to accomplish even a hug or two.
You will meet the lives of a major spirit, bringing in light, creating space, finding a location that uplifts a home.
Margaret's free write from the prompt “I woke up and decided I didn’t want to go to school this morning, so I packed my backpack and hit the open road...”
I woke up and decided I didn’t want to go to school this morning so I packed up my backpack and hit the open road. Being the 12 year old that I am, my instinct said that what I was doing wasn’t illegal and in fact probably my best plan yet. Who wouldn’t want to walk for days along the side of a highway feasting on canned food and bags of Cheetos that I bought with the little money I had brought? I obviously didn’t bring much food or clothing because it would take away space from the flatscreen TV I had brought and the Wii. My genius plan was to start an incredibly successful business in the desert selling raincoats to the people traveling by on camels. I even had plans to make a camel coat. Once I became rich, I would buy a hotel and retire comfortably at the age of 25 and return to a life of sitting in front of the TV all day eating twinkies and ordering junk on Amazon.
This is from a writing activity where the girls closed their eyes and picked a word out of a basket of words. Samantha picked the word "honey":
Honey poured down the side of the room, and because I liked it, I painted it that way on purpose. I like how it glows through the hall when the sun hits it through the french doors. I take a lick of the wall and smile at my handy work. I lick again and close my eyes; I see memories of me when I was a kid at my grandmother’s honey bee farm. I see myself and my sister running around a tree, when grandma calls us in to taste the fresh honey that just came off of the honey comb. I open my eyes and feel a tear roll down my cheek. They were not tears of sorrow because grandma had passed away. No, they were tears of joy that made me tear up, because there is nothing better than having happy memories.
The girls had to write a story based on a first line created by someone else in the group. Maxine's given line was "I was running, running for my life."
I was running, running for my life. All of a sudden something pounced on me, the air was knocked out of my lungs and I screamed. Then, I opened my eyes, groaned and immediately felt stupid. I WASN'T in a jungle. I WASN'T getting chased by a tiger through spiderwebs and mobs of man-eating monkeys. I was in my room. The thing that had pounced on me was my dog Rory who was now licking (my) face. The night terrors have been going on for a while and have been getting steadily worse. The worst thing is that they are all tied with reality. One day, for example, I had gotten terribly beaten at dodgeball and that night I dreamed that a thousand cannons were pointed straight at me. In every dream, something really bad is going to happen but I wake up some amount of time before the beast eats me or the cannons are fired. Lately, I've been waking up closer and closer to the occurrence of the bad thing. One time, I even woke up after the pirate pulled the trigger but before the bullet hit me.