Grades are a crummy way to measure student learning and progress, or my activism began with school

Here we are at part deux of my blogging about the nutty educational system we have here in the US. Last time I talked abut Standardized Testing (ST) and how that "termite" has slowly and steadily eaten away at the foundation of our country's schools. Today I'd like to chat with you about grading systems and what is happening on that front.

I will start by saying that the school board on which I sit is dedicated to looking at this system and making things more efficient and reasonable, FOR STUDENTS. I am thrilled at the prospect of deep revisions therein. We are quite simply looking at standards-based learning and measurements. There is a problem with things in the status quo, well several. I will unpack those here and we can discuss.

Problem #1 Colleges

When a student decides to go on to a community college, technical college, or a four-year college or university, there is a selection process the admissions folks use that is based upon things like SAT scores (although many are abandoning this as being artificial and fairly useless) and GPA. Grade Point Average is a measure not of potential but of past achievement. It is a number that is averaged, showing no nuance, no target areas of strengths. It is not a true picture of the whole. Like ST, GPA is a flat-earth way to look at astudent's potential and sustainability. GPA is made up of the basic arithmetical process of averaging. (one of the words I cringe under is "average" for a number of reasons) Ten measurements, add them, divide by ten. Bada-bing! The average.

To make it even more appealing, come up with a "value" or point for each letter grade received. Add those together and do the arithmetic. GPA. An A is 4 points. If a student gets all A's the GPA would be 4.0 right? Not really. An A- is less of an A than an A.

(SIDE NOTE: colleges (undergraduate programs) use GPA too and graduate schools make their decisions based upon these dinosaur measurements) In college I took a Shakespeare class wherein the professor announced he did not believe in A's and no one would therefore be getting an A. So, there went my 4.0. No chance for that. My fellow students could get a 4.0 GPA just by avoiding this professor's classes (unless they were female, blonde, and buxom).

Back to public high schools and GPA:

Problem #2 Advanced Placement and Honors

Another problem with using GPA as a standard of grading is that if a student takes certain classes (Honors or Advanced Placement) and aces these, she/he might end up with a 4.something-else (higher than 4.0) in that class. That means that perfect is not really perfect. For "advanced" students," more than perfect is the goal. All A's might be judged as not very good in that case. Meeting all the graduation requirements with A's becomes "less-than." Bottom line is that colleges do look at GPA and that fact presents a problem for school systems which want to eliminate number and letter grades and move toward something more descriptive and encompassing, some plan whereby teachers write more of a profile of the student as a learner. This is one giant elephant in the room when changing grading policies is discussed by faculty, administrators, and school boards. Let' say a school district decides to change to a narrative evaluation. How would that translate to a GPA that colleges could use to decide admissions? How, indeed.

Problem #3 Parents

Let's face it, we are used to grades, both letter and number. From time to time, or in lower grades of elementary schools, we have gone to SUN grading: Satisfactory, Unsatisfactory, Needs Improvement. What a firestorm of protest that induced! Parents feel comfortable looking at report cards with letter or number grades — and maybe even a key for describing what the number translates to as a letter. In my high school an A was 93%. In many schools, 90% is an A. Hmmm, so my A was worth more? How did my future colleges look at my A in comparison to someone else's? (yes they asked for a grading scale too). My point here is that assigning numbers and letters is artificial but we like that, just like we are comfortable with "butter spreads" rather than the butter itself. My father was all over my report card each quarter. He looked at each grade and made a judgment about what my life was going to be in the next quarter based upon that. (I was once told to quit Girl Scouts and concentrate on my studies because I got a B). Lest you think my father abusive and controlling, I should say that he was actually a bit more on the paranoid side, worrying that I'd have the hard life he had if I didn't do well enough to lift myself out of the manual labor life and into higher education. He was smart enough to know that education is the silver bullet, and he wanted me to have the best chance possible. By the way, I did quit Girl Scouts but not for that reason (the Troop Leader made her own daughter patrol leader... nepotism... and that was unacceptable to me)

At any rate, parents are comfortable with and can understand A's and F's and percentages. What they fail to consider perhaps is that those letters and numbers don't show anything other than what was calculated based upon a limited number of measured assessments, and an average at that. Those numbers could and often DO get skewed by external factors, even environmental ones (the room was hot, there was noise outside, the student didn't feel well the day of the test, etc. I used to verbally joust with my father over grades. He'd say what a great job I'd done, what a great report card, and I'd say to him "well... what does it mean? How do you know what I know? Do I actually KNOW things or did I get lucky on the tests? I pressed him for a definition of those A's and B's. A's were exceptional he said, A's meant I was smart he said. Bah, I said. Bah, I still say.

I need to insert a bit of a victory here. After I achieved my BA in English/ Writing from California State University at San Bernardino, I went on to graduate school at Vermont College of Fine Arts, seeking an MFA in Writing. I was amazed and delighted to find out that there were to be no letter or number grades attached to my work. I would, instead, be receiving an evaluation written as a narrative that would describe the projects I'd undertaken, the scope and engagement, the breadth of my reading, the writing I'd do my work ethic, and whether and to what degree I'd met my set goals. Weaknesses were to be pointed out with suggestions for direction, revision of plan, and problems I might avoid in successive semesters. A look at these evaluations and I'd be able to get a clear picture of my work and my results. Oh, and I need to add that self-review/evaluation was an integral part of the end-of-semester formula. The self-eval included a bit of goal-setting for moving forward. I could look back later and see whether I had stayed the course or veered and whether that was a good thing or not so great. Nothing was remotely vague or "standardized" about this system. I smiled at the way my desire for more reasonable grading was being met here. I only wished my father was alive to see that. OK, I wanted to gloat a bit.

Problem #4 Students

People who are promised rewards (or promised a withholding of rewards) for doing or filing to do something tend to lose interest in whatever they had to do. The reward, positive or negative, outstrips the activity. I suggest that the pleasure of doing, the pleasure of accomplishing is way more important. But then, how does one measure?

Studies in sociology have shown that, contrary to the conventional thinking, people who have been led to think about what they will receive for engaging in a task (or for doing it well) are apt to do lower quality work than those who are not expecting to get anything at all. In short, we do better at what we WANT to do, regardless of reward/punishment factors.

These findings are consistent across a variety of subject populations, rewards, and tasks, with the most destructive effects occurring in activities that require creativity or higher-order thinking. This effect produced by the extrinsic motivators known as grades has been documented with students of different ages and from different cultures. The findings are rarely cited by educators or administrators or school boards. It is another elephant in the room, or more accurately in the oatmeal.

Studies have shown that the more students are induced to think about what they will get (need to get) on an assignment, the more their desire to learn evaporates, and the less well they tend to do. I think this points to one of our better angels: we are strivers for the sake of striving, doers for the sake of doing. But those who inhabit the ivory towers insist on casting aside intrinsic values for extrinsic ones.

What I noticed, anecdotally, was that students were becoming "point-gatherers" and losing sight of the greater goal: actually KNOWING things. I didn't see this so much in high school. We were only slightly induced by grades (I wasn't much as I said before, preferring to know things and wanting to know more things than my peers, which is also a bad motivation overall). When I was in college finishing my BA in English/Creative Writing/Poetry, I saw the point gathering had escalated to unreasonable proportions.Some of my fellow students were obsessed with asking (begging) for extra credit work as early as the first week of classes. Aaaargh! I heard professor after professor say, nope...just do the actual work on the syllabus and you won't need extra credit. These students rarely did well on the assigned work and gained anxiety and stress as a result of worry over the points. This stance was befuddling to me. It was in no way logical thinking. Again, I was interested in KNOWING things (but certain that this obsession for being "the best" in any given class would LEAD to the points and grades I sought. I made myself sick of myself here. I was not being authentic in my approach. But, I still had as my prime mover the KNOWING. I was able to get back to my authentic self in grad school when there were not grades and there was not an ounce of competition. It was ALL about the work. I had found my safe place where values met outcome.

Then I took up teaching college English. Oy. Back to grades and point gathering. Back to anxiety in students and in me. I felt guilty "giving" an F, perhaps more guilty "giving" an A. It seemed so fake, so contrived, so unfair. But we work within the systems that hire us. So I undertook a radical method of point gathering. I assigned each student all their points the first day. All were perfect. Huh? Of course their job became KEEPING the points. At least I was being creative. At least I was showing the students an unbiased bit o' love. Hmmm. How did that work? Not so well. For some students, the idea was so foreign they couldn't cope. They didn't understand that each test would have a minus-something at the top and this represented points they lost. They wanted to know what that meant in terms of A, B, C, etc. They wanted extra credit right away. Oy again. I persisted in this, as I thought it might teach them to treasure and protect what they had. For some, this lesson was logical and worked. For others, it made me look like some kind of strange weirdo. Point taken.

Since 1893 we (the US) have been pretty much having onto a Titanic of a system. Slowly, since figuring out the No Child Left Behind was actually leaving everyone behind, schools and departments of education have been realizing we need a drastic overhaul of the system. Enter stage left: standards-based (think: proficiency-based) learning and grading. If we're careful (praying loudly here) we may end up being like my graduate program. Oh be still my pounding heart. "Make it so," as Capt. Picard of Star Trek used to say.

How will this animal function? you ask. How indeed will we have transcripts colleges will understand enough to accept our kids to post-secondary studies? Simple. Many many colleges already accept home-schoolers (looking at WHAT they have learned, sans the traditional grades). It will be a far easier shift for colleges than it will be for parents of points-gathering students. Here is the deal:

Let's say you are a student working in any subject area. You will have a plan for yourself that will include standards needing to be proven as met per particular subject area. Your plan will include small steps (foundational learning) and bigger ones (moving from general to specific learning targets within that subject area) that will lead to your demonstrating that you've mastered the subject to a certain proficiency. It's a "build upon the foundation" kind of thing. You (student) will KNOW what it is that you KNOW, and you will KNOW where you need help or time or effort. No competition with others, just with the material and yourself. Grading will be something like this: 1. not proficient, needs intervention or extra help 2. some proficiency (not mastery, but gaining ground with the subject matter) 3. mostly proficient (mastery at a reasonably high level of understanding) and 4. Proficient (mastery at a high level of understanding and application).

One of the beauties of this kind of learning plan (and its grading system) is that the student becomes an owner of the process and the outcome. Every student can have this kind of success. And because the key to mastery is mastery, not averaging, a student who works more slowly or has a bad day/semester/even year, is not penalized by dragging that not-so-stellar part of learning with him/her forever. Once mastery is reached, it is reached, no matter the route it took or the time.

I realize that I am merely skimming the surface herein. It is not my objective to take this lightly or to suggest that it will be an easy change. Not at all. All change is a bit fearful for many, a TREMENDOUSLY fearful thing for some. It is, however, a WAY to begin to shift the paradigm. It is a door opening and fresh air rushing in. It is hope that an antiquated system proven to NOT be working can be overhauled to begin working. School systems and district which are already doing this report successes. They report much higher levels of student engagement and we all agree that one of our biggest problems is retention and low graduation rates. Kids are BORED, feel "done to" rather than "worked with." If we only fix this part and keep kids engaged as stakeholders, we are miles ahead.

So... my suggestion here is this (in 3 parts):

1. encourage your school boards to consider standards-based learning and grading

2. tell your kids you are more interested in what they KNOW than their grades

3. think of your child as an explorer rather than a student, an explorer on a journey to knowledge and success and self-esteem.

I think that's enough from me for now. Let me hear from YOU.

How Standardized Testing Made Me an Activist, Part I

I begin this blog with an homage to the talk given by Capt. Porter (USN) and Col. "Puck" Mykleby (USMC) at this years Camden Conference. If you listen to their speech/presentation, "A National Strategic Narrative," you will find sense, forward thinking, and clarity of purpose. I have listened to them and find that what they said about developing a national strategic plan spot on for what we must do in our educational strategy. And we must do it now before we further screw over our kids and their future (and ours). I am going to analogize what they said with what is going on in our schools and what we might do to (as they put it) "stop swimming in oatmeal." I refer to them frequently and their ideas have spurred on mine and are the platform for mine.

I will say right off that I am making the points I make in this blog post not AS a member of my local school board, but BECAUSE I serve on my local school board. I do not speak for the board, but I do speak in part TO that board as well as to every person who cares that we are the best people we can be.

This topic (Standardized Testing) has been on my mind for many years, since I was a Junior in high school to be exact. When I sat for the PSAT, it occurred to me that my scores might not mean very much in the real world. I understood that this was, in essence, a "pre-test" for the SAT which I'd take in a few months hence. I started thinking about the value of this kind of testing and what it would actually mean in terms of how well I would do in college, how well I would do as a citizen of my society after college. I concluded that the testing had a big fat ZERO to do with either. But, being a big rule follower, I was going to test when "they" said test, and I would do my best. Rule follower that I was (am?) is part me as a student, person, citizen. Well, I had a brilliant day that day, felt fine, had eaten breakfast, was wearing comfortable clothing, the sun was shining, the room was not too hot or too cold, and I liked the teacher who was proctoring the test. Oh, did I mention that I was a happy young woman with a great family, had not had a tiff with my mother that morning, was not grounded or had not just broken up with a boyfriend? In other words, the stage was set for success on all fronts. All systems go. I was motivated to do well, and I did (well not so great in the math part but that is another story).

Fast forward to the SAT a few months later:

I had a headache. I'd just started my period and was cramping like crazy. I was nearly late for the test due to oversleeping due to cramping all night the night before. My mother and I had a big fight that morning because I got up too late to eat breakfast due to oversleeping due to ..... okay. You get it. Not the optimal situation for a big standardized test. So how did I do? I did OK, but not as good as on the PSAT. I was completely upset by that when the results came in, because I figured my chances of getting into a good college and maybe getting a scholarship were less than perfect. I found myself totally resentful and angry at the testing system and at an educational system where a test could determine that much of a person's future. Even on this small a scale at this early age, I began a kind of activism that is my mind-set today). What I did NOT worry about at the time was whether my scores would have some kind of flashpoint effect on my classroom teachers. (more on that later in part II)

I began to have ongoing and stimulating arguments ( verbal tussles) with my father over testing and grades. We got into it on a nearly weekly basis on the topic of what tests actually do to show my success as a student/learner. I insisted that what I knew could not be well-measured by testing, especially by standardized testing. What if, I argued, the test asked things we hadn't covered? What if it only asked things we had covered? Wouldn't the result be false in either case, a false failure or a false success? How many tests might I need to take to get a range? Why on earth would reward/punishment be based in any way on these tenuous results? I argued that "achievement" was bigger than that. It was also during high school (well, probably around 8th grade) that I began a life-long battle with my father over grading methods. I saw this a big picture, poorly framed. I cringed each time report cards came out, worried that the "grades" would not please him. I didn't care what the grades were intrinsically, but certainly wanted my father's good opinion and that extrinsic factor was certainly at the fore each quarter. How many A's were enough for him? Of course he said the typical paternal thing: "if you are trying your best (as determined by whom?) whatever grade you get is good." Ha! His opinion was that "trying my best" translated to A's and B's in all classes, with a C possible in Math. My side of it was (is) that letter grades, number grades too, are artificial measurements of what we want to know about a student's progress in school. These are even less to do with what they know. More on this part later (Part III).

I digress. But just a little.

Back to the Camden Conference and its connection to standardized testing (henceforth referred to as ST):

It is true (sadly) that our schools are deep into swimming the oatmeal. Crazy nutty programs/plans like NCLB have thickened the oatmeal and made it a horror of a meal for our kids, teachers, schools to be force-fed.

The whole thing is leveraged off the militaristic notion of force and power (the government, school boards, testing agencies) use their power to force a program which only measures disasters and threatens school closures, teachers losing jobs, and withdrawal of federal monetary support. What? Really? This latest Draconian flavor-du-jour is turning the education of our up and coming citizens into mass paranoia, without any positive result in terms of our schools/kids actually doing better. We still STiNK as a nation in terms of the inverse dynamic of money spent to learning acquired (as measured by ST)

We need a Grand Strategy. We must re-frame the conversation RIGHT NOW, and everything we decide must be based upon opportunity and not on some kind of risk-threat concoction, which is what we have now. How so? you might ask.

Here is a simplified answer:

RISK: For students, ST is tied to progressing onward throughout the K-12 system, to graduation rates, to post-secondary work, and definitely to self-esteem. We in the ivory towers get to decide who is "at risk" by using ST, who is "gifted" by using ST, who is "in need of intervention" by using ST. For teachers and schools, we tie success to ST. We decide which schools are those same labels, again by using ST.

THREAT: We are sucked into a vortex of blame by ST, indeed some drum-bangers for NCLB would have us consider which teachers might lose their jobs, which may need "intervention," and which administrators need to be "recycled" or replaced — again by ST scores. In my opinion (I'm not alone on this), Michelle Rhee has done more damage to the national conversation on education in the 21st Century than any other person. She is Maxwell's Silver Hammer on teachers and schools. Rhee positively salivates over the idea of razing the system and starting over. It is all about controlling the risk-threat variables. It's all about control, period. Control through shame and blame.

But I'd rather let an expert tell you. You ought to listen to Dr. Diane Ravitch (the anti-Michelle Rhee). She is much more in the know than I am, but we are essentially saying the same thing. ST does not work. It will never work. "No, no, and absolutely not" is her mantra. Listen to this interview wherein she states that what kids are "learning" through ST is how to take tests. The curriculum is ST rather than being measured by ST.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vx_2n4t6SjE&feature=related

So what now?

I agree with Col Mykleby and Capt Porter that the grand strategy for re-visioning our national presence in the world is about development of a national narrative, development of the story of who we are as a people. In the case of our country's very broken and uselessly over-funded money pit of a plan for education, we need a national narrative of who we are as promoters of an educated citizenry. They make an excellent point (Mykleby does) that we need citizens, not residents. We are not renting. We are buying. We need to involve all of us in the process. Because I do not have kids K-12 age now, ought I just take myself out of the picture? No. I actually care that the future is populated by thoughtful, reasoning caretakers of the world, of this country. I ought to care. I ought to want the best possible education for them and generations after them. When I hear people grousing about their property taxes going up to "pay for someone else's kids" I see red.

Having said that, there is a growing number of education advocates who believe that we need to stop tying educational opportunity to property taxes and, instead, fund education and support education with national resourcing and local implementation. We need a national narrative on education that places sustainability and productivity under the values umbrella. FYI, I am defining sustainability here as Porter and Mykleby do: an organism (country) that remains diverse and productive over time. Sustainability and productivity are qualitative views, not quantitative views. The purely quantitative view is wholly about "measurable results," i.e. ST.

What we need to develop is a broad view of enduring interest. Enduring interests lead to "doing" and doing leads to progress, i.e. sustainability. It is a non-linear way of looking at the world. We need a non-linear way to see things. The linear view has no end in sight. No end in sight is dangerous, as it both procrastinates our planning and leads to apathy and discouragement. American Exceptionalism, which is one of our points of pride as a nation, is not that we are naturally smarter than others, or naturally deserving of all good things over others, but is really more about the development of strengths and talents and ideas over time. These strengths, talents, and ideas form a picture of us, but are not the whole picture. We have come to prize the idea of our exceptionalism as our righteous influence in the world. It sticks in the national craw when we hear where we fall educationally compared to other civilized nations: Finland, Australia, Canada, etc. We hate the fact that we are sinking harder and faster every year on those lists. Standardized Testing rears its ugly punitive head again! We need to stop the madness, get out of the oatmeal and stop caring about the lists. We need to focus instead on the development of sustainability and productivity under a value system that fosters individual and national progress. We need every person who claims to be a citizen rather than a resident to stop looking at education as a pay to play system. Formal education ought to be world class and free. We need a national and local narrative that is "written" by all of us, to the end that no one feels left out of the conversation. We need to "get" that influence is best accomplished by reason and principle, not by bullying or coercion. We need to encourage students to the point that the narrative of who they are and where they are headed is "written" by them with our help. We need to begin to focus on momentum, in a non-linear way.

We need to involve students and teachers and parents and administrators in an ACTIVE process to re-vision our systems, locally. We need to include in our thinking the notion of credible influence, which focuses on strengths as a vehicle to rehabilitate areas of weakness. Dr. Mary Meeker (Structure of Intellect) pioneered that concept in her pioneering work, the Upside Down Classroom. http://www.upsidedownschoolroom.com/soi.shtml

She asserts that every person is comprised of weaknesses and gifts (abilities) and that the weaknesses can be lessened if accessed via at least two well-developed gifts or abilities. She identified 26 areas of ability possibility. A good example of an ability which can be tapped into in order to problem solve is a strength I have in the area of "visual closure." This ability strength allows me to play Wheel of Fortune or do puzzles or figure out geometry. If I am weak in an area (algebra) and have trouble with the cognitive part of formulas, my abilities in kinesthetics might be a way in... I can perhaps build formulas out of lego and "get" the concept. If I am an auditory learner, I might need to record lessons to hear later. If I am a visual learner, listening to lectures won't help me but seeing the text will. If I am a kinesthetic/visual learner, I may need to take lots of notes (engaging hand and later eye). Tell me how ST will measure this. It will not. Teachers in the classroom notice not what kids are learning but HOW they are learning. They are trained to shuttle kids into experiences that allow them to engage positively with materials and concepts. How does ST do this? It does not.

Some of you are likely saying (right now as you read) Well, ST will discover what the weakness are and give teachers a clue to interventions. NOPE. ST will only find out what kids did not put down on the test that day and at that time and under those circumstances present on that day. We are swimming the oatmeal and drowning. We need to be bold! We should endeavor to reflect our best values, live up to our best traditions, and engage in common sense in planning and implementation of ideas.

To that end, we should just stop ST and rely upon our professional educators to know what is working and what isn't. These folks are in the classroom with our kids on a daily basis. They serve as facilitators of learning (as a lifelong undertaking I would hope) and serve as models of work ethic, work habits, critical approach to problem solving, etc... the list of their involvement is long and illustrious. In Part II, I will talk in greater detail about what ST is doing as a threat to teaching and teachers.

In the meantime, contact your local school boards and tell them NOT to fund ST in your school district. Find out if (how) you can opt out of ST.

See you on the flip side.

Donald Hall keeps on keeping' on

Arrived by package on porch recently: 2011 poetry book, Back Chamber by Donald Hall.

Sigh.

OK, he is the former Poet Laureate of the US and who am I, mere mortal local Maine poet, to review or (gasp!) critique his poetry?

Here's the thing: I love poetry and I am a HUGE fan of DH. But...

I begin by saying there are many poems in this collection which I love, notably: "Ruins," "Sleep," "The Week," "Searching," and "Green Farmhouse Chairs."

But there are poems that fall flat for me and others that are, for me, awful. Even as I write this, I am cringing a bit. But there are these poems that leave me cold or annoyed, poems like "Creative Writing," for example, which seems more like a punch line at a party than poetry to me. "The Pursuit of Poetry" fails for me due to a tone of arrogance, and it is off-putting in its self-consciousness. The poem steams with a sense that the speaker of the poem is a bit wearily full of himself and cannot be bothered with "regular folks." (Hall speaks of himself in the third person in this line: "Donald Hall" declined to become hors d'oeuvers) The lines, Stacey called happily from her "Poetry House" / to invite my attendance at an open mike, I watched/color drain from my hand as if it were sculpted in snow./ suggests the famous dismisses the eager fan or the aspiring poet. It is beneath Hall to do this in such a public way as this, even if it is how he feels.

A large issue for me in this volume is Hall's casual use of the f-word. Seems out of place, awkward. Seems a bit embarrassing for a person of his stature, age, talent. The word seems to appear suddenly in an otherwise splendid poem. I agree that this might be more me than anything else. I am not offended by the word in some contexts. I have used it myself (an example would include my poem about a WWII medic in Daughter of the Ardennes Forest (Main Street Rag, 2007). In that case, I used the word in a dialogue between soldiers. But... in a poem such as Hall's "Three Women," the word comes across as demeaning. Maybe that was his aim. If so, I lose a bit of respect for him here. If we compare that poem with the poem, "Bangers and Mash," wherein he uses the phrase "made love," the contrast is startling. And, for me, puts "Three Women" high on the "ick scale." Conversely, I see the use of the word in ""Poetry and Ambition" as perfectly appropriate.

So what's MY problem? Is it the demeaning nature of the word when applied to relationship? I guess it might be that. But really, I think it is this area where Hall seems to have lost his love. He is a sad widower no matter what else. Jane's death cannot become an excuse however. It is a fact of Hall's existence. I have to say that those poems of grief are the most holy and yet raw poems of his. I LOVE the collection he did a few years ago, The Painted Bed. I relish each and every poem for its breathtaking honesty and the beautiful way he deals with grieving the loss of his best person in the world. I read these poems at the same time as I read Carol Muske-Dukes' Sparrow.

These two books were perfect to read together, one from the male and one from the female perspective on loss and yet they were the same — because loss knows no gender divide. Back Chamber does not live up to the quality of either. I am sad to not have that quality of work to admire here.

It is certainly true that Hall is an icon of American poetry. But likewise he is an aging icon which may factor in regarding this collection. His fine attention to detail, rich images, and notation of all that he sees from his perch have perhaps gone to seed or his edge is dulled by dotage. His best poems may be behind him.

So, no apologies, dear DH. I still think you are one of our best. Your laurels are well-earned and deserved. Just not here.

gearing up for Poetry Month challenge.. a pre-challenge for you

Shifting position shifts perception.

Sitting right where you are, write for 5 minutes about the weather. DO NOT LOOK OUT THE WINDOW to do this. Just write and don’t mind if it makes no sense. [better if it doesn’t] Look at what you wrote and make a short list of how it FELT to write this.

Get up! Move over to the other end of the room (or another room, or into a large closet). Change everything you can about your physical position. Now write again about weather.

Shift your position to facing a corner of the room or the doorway or the floor or the ceiling. Write again about weather.

Now take these three “bits” and smoosh them together. Or take every third line and isolate them from everything else you've written and write as suggested, i.e.

A 14 line poem that does NOT rhyme, and ends with a couplet from the third position.

Wind and writing

NOTE: This blog was begun earlier and abandoned due to... well, some interruption or distraction.

Last night was full moon and fully windy. I was blown out of a deep sleep by it. After going outside to my porch to lay the rocking chairs on their sides, I spent a little time thinking about wind and the fact that it gets to us via all our senses but one: sight.

I think that writing is like that in reverse. It is providing sight to the reader, allowing her/him to see what I see. It may be a motion or a sound or a feeling, but I can give it a body. I can imbue it with shape and texture. When I write, I have a desire to place an object in sight, to put an orange on a blue plate on a white tablecloth. I want the dripping juice from the orange on my reader's chin, the smell of it in her/his nostrils. That orange cannot be an idea of an orange or an abstraction of it. It is it.

When I teach writers (poets especially) I aim to get them finely-tuned to concretes. I reject "tree" in favor of "oak" for example. When we write, there is the draft version where abstractions spring up like weeds. OK of course to have these in your drafts as they are OPPORTUNITIES for revision. Get it down on paper (or screen) and then be ready to up the ante in revision. The real work of poetry is found here.

I encourage a deeper kind of revision that encourages replacement of the generic with the specific. Hat is less specific than bowler or beanie or baseball cap. Why leave it to the reader to figure out?

Why not paint the poem with a specific brush of a specific color. What is YOUR idea of "red?" Mine might be carmine, or maybe scarlet. It might be the color of a sunset that is just off being a true red, tinged with prussian blue. If I want you to see that sunset with me, should I leave it so vague that we are not seeing it together? I think not.

Of course not every line or phrase is total concreteness, nor should that be the case. Pairing ideas (abstractions like happiness) with concretes rachets up the heat and makes things come alive on the page. Here is an example from a poem in my 3rd collection: I Write in the Greenhouse (2011). Note the abstractions (scent and happiness) are quickly followed by its concrete (orchids) and by a concrete action (bending). This strategy puts clarity into the mind of the reader and invites her/him INTO the poem as an experience.

The scent of happiness

is in the orchids

you tend, bending...

Think for a moment about how to embody the abstraction of love, perhaps one of the most badly used abstractions. Consider this contrast:

The young man loved her and could not stop thinking of her.

OR

What young man carved his first flute here,

sang his courting song?

Which is more appealing to a reader, will likely be remembered? And speaking of memory, how do we possibly treat this abstraction in a concrete way?

Consider this example from my latest collection, Native Moons, Native Days:

Pond Water

It gets up your nose

when you roll the kayak,

gets in your blood after summers at the pond.

It will always call to you,

will always know when you return.

Maybe there’s a splinter from the dock, still

deep in your heel, a small sliver

that seemed healed over. Maybe once a year

the spot reddens, pinches a little, a signal

to pack your shorts and bathing suit,

get in your car and head back

where even in midsummer, it gets dark

early, save for the light the pond makes.

This poem is all about memory. Nowhere in the poem is the abstract word, memory, used. But the poem, as a whole and in all its parts is memory of another time, a calling back to that time. One thing you might do when writing a memory as a poem is to do the whole first draft in prose. I like this method for students as it makes a comfort zone of material out of which to extract specifics and extrapolate on them. Once the details are down on paper, right there to see, it is time to pull out the abstractions and mix in the concrete. Like making a building out of raw materials. It's YOUR building. Make it beautiful. Make it real. Make it easily visited by others.

So, let the wind blow beneath the full moon. Let it be a mover of willows and tulip heads. Let the moon cast shivers of ivory on the whole place, the fox in the hedgerow and the mourning dove hovering on the phone wire leading to your sage green victorian house. Let is be as much itself as it appears to you. Your reader will be happy to experience it all through your SIGHT.

Vernal Equinox; time to shift writing into high(er) gear?

I am in love with time. I own several wonderful wristwatches, have clocks all over my house (set to varying times which, oddly enough doesn't mess with my head at all) and pride myself on being (mostly) ON time for things. I enjoy thinking about time and timing. I often sit and listen to the ringing in my ear (tinnitus) and think of it as some massive clock gonging to get my attention. But what does this have to do with the Equinox and with writing? HA! thought you'd never ask!

If you read my poetry (what? you don't have my latest books? fie unto thee I say!), you will notice that time and landscape are inextricably wound together. I have come to see (for myself) and notice (in others' poems) that time is part of setting; and without a sense of time in a piece of writing, it is just too freaky and loose for me to stay IN for the long haul of reading. We live our lives by calendars (chunks of time) and we schedule ourselves by this artificial blocking of time. We look at clocks to see when the meal will be ready, when to go to bed, when we prefer to get OUT of bed, etc. Why then is it not the most natural thing in the world to attend to issues of time in our writing?

I recall a fiction class in my undergrad years where we were asked to comment about a story and one student decided that the character's son probably suffered from AIDS. Now this story took place in the 1950s. What is wrong with this picture? Hmmmm, let me see.... oh wait! 1950s... no one had heard of AIDS, not yet on the horizon, much less a factor in a short story. So, time a HUGE factor here. An author, sans sic-fi genre, would not have factored in a non-existent disease because it was not TIME for it to appear in writing. By the way, this student argued on and on that "it could be a about that" while the professor silently ripped out his hair (metaphorically). I recall the incident here as a way of showing that time IS part of setting, a critical part.

When I write a poem, I am acutely aware of "when" as much as I am cognizant of "where." If I am writing a poem that is set a kitchen for example, the "stuff" of the poem will determine the time, or conversely the time will determine the "stuff." A wringer-washer will help to locate the poem's place in time as being perhaps 1950s or earlier. A washboard and brush might date it even earlier. A rock and stream even earlier. Time. It's a necessary element in writing.

My 5 year old grandson is writing a small piece on Abraham Lincoln, a bit of a deja vu to my daughter decades ago. He writes, "Abe Lincoln was born in a log cabin." This simple sentence LOCATES time. Even without the date specific, it locates time. He may be unaware of this now, but hopefully as he continues to do his school writing he will notice and appreciate how time can work for him.

Another issue for me regarding time is linear time vs circular time. What is the way I look at time? Personally I can write in both linear and circular time. But my THINKING is more circular, the notion that time is a wheel, spinning along with returning elements (altered? sometimes) and with lessons to be learned along the wheel. I see nature as repetend also, and the idea of time as circular is evident in the cycles of nature. This of course brings me back to the title of this blog, Vernal Equinox. I am gobsmacked over the equinoxes and the solstices. I see these as grand gestures on the part of the universe, the earth, the Creator. Yes, these specifics-named events are noticed and named by men. BUT the concept, the actuality of what time does is not man-made at all. Every year on the equinoxes, I stand eggs on end. Naysayers insist it is not possible on these days more than on any others. Ha! I do it. It is real. I take pictures of the eggs on their ends. It is phenomenon I have witnessed first-hand.

I digress (of course). My point is that these markers of time are important to me and make me even more aware of time's tricks, magic, and flux. Isn't it great to have this built-in muse for your writing? This wonderful anchor or wings for your writing? I contend that time is critical for all reading, and for writing. I am excited for the wheel to roll around again and hesitate, if briefly, at equinox.

A few years ago I wrote an equinox poem (suitable for vernal or autumnal equinox... since they are equal time partners). I reproduce it for you here:

Equidia/equinox

In one breathless shudder

within the hiding away time,

the earth rolls

quietly to a stop.

So finite and rare the moment,

it is dared only at the exact halves

of each year, and goes

mostly unnoticed.

I challenge you to:

1. Think about how time factors into your own writing and share your thoughts here

2. Write about something wherein time is a factor and share here

or

3. Write about the equinox and share it here

In closing, I am using this oncoming equinox as a kick-in-the- to infuse my writing with new energy. After the egg rolls back onto its side, I will pick up the pen.

Enough with the snow already (even if we've had not much of it)

I awoke to flakes swirling slowly like some kind of snow globe was shaken outside my window. Don't get me wrong here, I think it is lovely and magical. BUT... enough already. It's March and I am ready to be sitting outside with my laptop or a book (or my iPad books). I want my two friends to return to Maine from NYC and FL so we can start meeting to write again. I want sunshine so my legs will get brown again. I want to be able to wear pretty shoes that I don't have to carry with me to put on after I get inside wherever I am going. I want to pack away my long sleeves and coats. Is this too much to ask?

Something too about winter and writing: it is inspiring for about a minute and then...

Fortunately, I have lots to do. Poetry Month is upon us in 3 weeks. I am preparing for that by seeing to the list of poets for the Poetry Swarm, getting contest info to the schools, and attending the meetings at the library. I am searching for 4 high school students who can get a break from classes to come read at the library on a Wednesday at noon, and of course am prepping my own work for readings. I am also working on my BIG Wilbur project (see an earlier post for part of that). Dana Gioia suggested to me that I make an appointment to see him in person. I am nervous about doing that but really NEED to just do it. He is at Amherst in fall semester, so I have a goal: October.

So, what to do with my current slump? (sun just broke through... is it a sign?) I RARELY have slumps. I can usually, on any given day, just sit down to write and something happens. I don't usually have to talk myself into it, or thump about on the keyboard until something happens. But the past several days I have had little impulse to do it at all. Is this a leftover dullness from my horrible cold? I WANT to want to write. I just don't. Someone out there please give me a challenge. A prompt. A kick in the behind.

Writing the contemporary ghazal

First of all, let's get the pronunciation right: it's saying "huzzle" as if you are scraping a popcorn kernel off your tonsils. Ok, Now on to how to approach this wonderful and challenging form.

Recently, I was the member judge of a Maine Poets Society contest. I chose this form because it is challenging and rewarding. I encountered it in a serious way about 5 years ago and find it a great discipline in its strictest form, with all kinds of room to explode it to one's own tastes and ideas. Here is my talk, a bit edited to omit comments about the judging process.

The Ghazal (g-huzzle or in Spain the gacale)

There is some question as to where this form originated, whether in the Arabic world of Persia or Andalusia (Muslim Spain).

Wherever it originated, it is a newcomer to English speakers relatively speaking, often a lot looser in its adherence to the original form. Certainly, in its arabic format, it is more restrictive. For example, in the Arabic formatting of a ghazal, there would be no enjambment of lines or couplets. It is wise to remember that the definition of the Arabic, ghazal, is the cry of a cornered gazelle, one who knows she/he is about to die. So the lamentation and repetends are reminiscent of that desperation, that ending. Of course not every writer of the ghazal is going to restrict him/herself in tone or topic to the last ebbing moments of life or to an atmosphere of sadness. No topic ought to be abandoned if the writer is truly interested in making a ghazal. Annie Finch, Ghazal for a Poetess, admonishes the writer that this form is intended for the erotic. Yes, that can be the case. But there are many many of these poems which do not take that as a directive. Look at the amusing ghazal of John Hollander where he uses the form to write an ars poetica.

I am interested in the stand alone couplet, as found in many forms of writing poetry. I am interested in ancient forms that can be adapted to contemporary writing, and interested in forms that exist or once existed in other cultures and can be made in people of Western culture writing in English.

There is something magical, really, in writing and reading and listening to ghazal, almost a lilting quality exists there. Even in those considering banal topics such as politics or pop culture, the music is undeniable. This is due to the rhyme and the repetends, a truly contrapuntal approach: point, counterpoint, music upon music.

Some Western critics of the form say that these poems seem to go nowhere. Well, that is because Western thoughts of time and space tend toward the linear. Other cultures, especially indigenous cultures, do not live within a linear framework. Thus the ghazal is perfectly acceptable in its wandering nature, its seeming disunity. One might ask: Is the poet wandering about in his/her own thoughts? Is she/he talking to her/himself? Or, as Elizabeth T. Gray, Jr. says in her intro to The Green Sea of Heaven: Fifty Ghazals From the Diwan of Hafiz, “...is this a nugget of wisdom [of a] disciple who seeks union with God? One ought to ask oneself is the poet actually talking at all?

The nuts and bolts:

A ghazal is at least five couplets long, but there is no limit on length beyond that.

Some rules about the form are clear and strict. There is an opening couplet (or two lines) that is called the matla, which sets up the rhyme scheme. The rhyme scheme is called the qafia. There is a refrain phrase or word (repetend) called the radif.

In some ways, once the poet sets up the rhyme and repetend scheme, he or she becomes its slave. Having said this, however, in English ghazals, we might free ourselves a bit by varying the radif a little to use an off-rhyme or a delicate change in the qafia (rhyme word) or a bit of a tweak in the radif (repetend). We might enjamb the lines of the couplets. Many western world writers do these kinds of variations. We might not have the couplets interchangeable, instead having the whole poem flow in a linear fashion.

Basically, however, when you are learning the form, try to follow the original plan and keep your couplets on track.

There is often (most often?) an address in the final couplet, an actual naming of the beloved or the person who is the subject and object of the passionate expression of the whole. Hollander makes up a name, using Qafia and Radif in combination, another nod to his making the ghazal as an ars poetica.

The form is a wonderful place to combine lyric moments within a restrictive framework. This is quite a liberating thing. One can let seemingly unrelated couplets SUGGEST new unifications. In other words, allow the reader or listener to make universal connections. Of course there are those ghazals which are more unified. Even there, the reader has something to do to make the unifications strong and connect them to her/himself in a deep or fanciful way.

This form allows the poet to be mercurial while being restrictive. It is a lovely dichotomy for serious poets. It is freeing to be able to wax widely on a series of seemingly unrelated positions or to make a series of observations or parable-like statements. Let the connections be conjured by the reader. Let there be mystery.

Whether your ghazal follows the strictness of the original intent or is looser in its interpretation, the couplet allows you to get in and get out quickly. As long as you adhere to the use of qafia and radif, you are using the form. In judging, I allowed for all interpretations. I was looking for the qafia and radif and the couplet framework (even if the couplets were not separated from one another on the page).

I think it wise at this point to showcase an example from John Hollander, Ghazal. Listen for (look for) the ending repetend “at the end” in each second line of the couplets following the initial set up couplet. Of note: this is also an ars poetica, which comments on the form itself:

Ghazal (John Hollander)

For couplets, the ghazal is prime; at the end

of each one’s a refrain like a chime; at the end

But in subsequent couplets throughout the whole poem,

It’s this second line only will rhyme at the end.

On a string of such strange, unpronounceable fruits,

How fine the familiar old lime at the end!

All our writing is silent, the dance of the hand;

So that what it comes down to’s all mime, at the end.

Dust and ashes? How dainty and dry! We decay

To our messy primordial slime at the end.

Two frail arms of your delicate form I pursue,

Inaccessible, vibrant, sublime at the end.

You gathered all manner of flowers all day,

But your hands were most fragrant of thyme, at the end.

There are so many sounds! A poem having one rhyme?

— A good life with a sad, minor crime at the end.

Each new couplet’s a different ascent: no great peak

But a low hill quite easy to climb at the end.

Two armed bandits: start out with a great wad of green

Thoughts, but you’re left with a dime at the end.

Each assertion’s a knot which must shorten, alas

This long-worded rope of which I’m at the end.

Now Qafia Radif has grown weary, like life

At the game he’s been wasting his life at. THE END.

The ending is very playful, with Hollander using the traditional signature couplet, called a makhta, in which a poet invokes her/his own name. He chooses, however, since this is an ars poetica, to make up a name using the two repetends, the qafia and the radif. Very clever of him.

Notice that Hollander could take most of the couplets and rearrange them in any order, save the first and final ones. This is a hallmark of the strictest ghazal. Note also that his couplet contain enjambments of lines (though not of stanzas). A ghazal which enjambs lines is referred to as a qata. Let me read to you now a couple of ghazals I have written, Ghazal of the Dark Blue Suit and Sea Ghazal. Both of these are gata. I think I prefer the qata.

Another challenge one might make in writing this form is to rhyme every line. I did this in the following poem, Prison Ghazal [wrongly accused] I also did NOT use the qafia just before the radif. I tell you this, and show you the poem in order to underscore that you might change things about for your own "take' on the form.

Prison Ghazal

[wrongly accused]

How did I come to this disarray

losing myself to open air, to this dismay.

What will I eat and do each day?

Oh such a battered twist this dismay.

I’d rather open up my wrist and flay

off my own skin, such dismay.

Losing ground day after day

I bare can take this heart-heavy dismay.

The sky is filled with birds that pray

for me in my dismay.

The trees droop so and, dismal, sway

to match the steps I count and pace in my dismay.

An eagle screams, forgets its prey

drops one fine feather to cheer this dismay.

Dark grows the sky above, and the way

it shrugs its black attire shows its dismay

at the wicked who thought me a piece to play

in their smudgy game of evil and dismay.

A priest I am and thus shall ever stay

no matter what humiliation or dismay.

I bare my soul, and say

my God why leave me in such dismay?

"What we have here is a failure to communicate."

What is the role of poetry in contemporary discourse? Can poetry message the world in such a way as to foment change?

I think about these two questions frequently. I wonder whether the poems I write make any discernible difference, whether their scope is too broad or too narrow to make said difference. I believe that the only thing a poet (or any writer) can do is to keep writing and to make sure the work GETS OUT to be heard, read, discussed.

Even if the work is casual as far as topic is concerned, there are truths to be gleaned from it. If I write about the things I see from my greenhouse (I Write in the Greenhouse, 2011), I am speaking about human nature as reflected off the glass of feral nature. On the surface, a poem about bees may seem to be just that, but in reality it can be about what we are doing to the environment, to our fellow creatures, and ultimately to ourselves.

An acquaintance of mine from California recently posted an article decrying the science of climate change. She asked the question: do we believe or not? I replied I'd rather hedge my bet on the side of protecting the environment and find out I didn't need to do so, rather than being a user/abuser of resources only to find out it was critical to protect and now it's too late. I think this is what writing can do: help us hedge our bets. Hate to be so clinical here or to sound self-serving, but if not us, who? I write about "nature" much of the time and have found it to be a mirror for humanity. I see its struggle to stay upright in a world that would knock it over to make a buck. Is that not what we are seeing in our government? Knock down the fragile and vulnerable to make a buck, without thought to how that bodes for the future.

We have kids who recycle religiously and kids who don't. No amount of cajoling and example-setting makes the non-recyclers get on board. They are too busy, too involved, too lazy (?) to do it. For me it is a no-brainer: like wearing seat belts... just do it and it becomes habit.

I have picked up after the "tossers" all my life. I cannot pass by a can on the sidewalk, a cigarette butt (don't get me started!) or ignore a piece of paper fluttering in the street. So when I was in graduate school, I wrote about it (poem posted below). My advisor said (mockingly I might add) that no one does that, picks up after others. Later that day, he happened by as I was cleaning up a mess near the dorm where some students had left bottles and cans on the step. I didn't know he was there until he yelled out his car window: Oh wow, you really DO do that!

Ha! Caught in the act of doing as I say! What a concept. My point here is to be authentic and let that leak into and infuse your writing. You never know who will read what you write and make even a small change. Don't let yourself fail to communicate your deeply held thoughts, ideas, beliefs IN your writing. Some say "the cause is best left for the soapbox," but I say it is best flooded through what you write. You don't have to be overt about it, but just let that be the layer of meaning below the surface. Remember it can be "about" without being about...

Here is the littering poem:

No Litter (Honest!)

Once a receipt blew out of my car.

I swear I stopped,

chased it into the greasewood,

crumpled it into my pocket. No trash

can in sight, what else could I do?

No littering for me. No gum

wrappers, ciggie butts

not one can or bottle, no

popsicle stick dropped

like a bad joke at the dinner table.

I’ve picked up your trash too, friends,

followed behind as you spread

your gluttony along

streets and sidewalks. I’ve coughed

loudly so you’d notice. (you didn’t)

I recycled what you littered: cans,

papers, flattened cardboard

boxes you left to rot in vacant lots.

I’ve even picked up pooches

you rejected, dropped off in the desert.

As for apple cores, banana skins, crusts,

peach pits: these I happily fling

wherever the concrete ends. Back to nature!

I shout, knowing the same thrill I felt

in ‘77 when I recycled my first husband.

Down with a cold, but up for poetry

I have been totally sidelined by a terrible cold. I have coughed up some things that I believe to be primal, bits of an ancient culture. I have sneezed myself into headaches, blown my nose until I may have given myself a concussion. OK, so I exaggerate here... but you get the picture.

One blessing of being sick (once you pass the phase where you sleep 'round the clock for two days) is that you are forced onto the couch with nothing calling you. I took advantage of this to spend some quality time with Richard Wilbur's poems. I am steaming ahead with the big project to annotate and understand and compare his world of writing. I originally thought I'd begin at the beginning (1947 volume) and move ahead from there. Not a great plan as it turns out. For some reason I was unable to get terribly excited about the early stuff UNTIL I began to read it along with the new material. So I am doing an ends to middle approach at this point. Today I read the first poem (a prologue of sorts) to his latest book, Anterooms.

The House is a sweet and evocative bit of reflection on the dream life you cannot enter: that of your beloved. It addresses the "morning after" when lovers try to get back into the living world and yet are still caught up in the land they left to do so. The poem begins:

Sometimes, on waking, she would close her eyes

For a last look at that white house she knew

In sleep alone, and held no title to,

And had not entered yet, for all her sighs.

How many times have I awakened still clinging to the phantoms of night, to a place or a person only real in the night world? I have tried to share my dreams with my beloved, only to feel inadequate to include him, and slightly guilty for going there without him. Wilbur captures this fully and succinctly in the opening stanza of the poem.

The middle stanza attempts to do what I try to do in morning: Give details. Include. Explain. Wilbur captures the inadequacy of the attempt. His poem lets me feel included in this holy adventure of dreaming.

I admit that I actually gasped aloud with pleasure when I got to the end of the poem as it turns to the notion that the dreamer is followed to the sea (of dreams) despite the speaker's full knowledge that he cannot find the land she is inhabiting. THAT is love. It is the action of being willing to go into impossible waters alone because the beloved has sailed off in that direction:

Is she now there, wherever there may be?

Only a foolish man would hope to find

That haven fashioned by her dreaming mind.

Night after night, my love, I put to sea.

Is this not amazing? It is. I assert that Wilbur is our greatest living American poet (male). My opinion keeps growing stronger with every poem.

Regarding the bones of this poem:

Wilbur embraces always a classic aesthetic in terms of prosody. His poems naturally find themselves rhyming, find their music in iambics (mostly), a four or five beat line. This poem is no exception. The rhyme scheme is abba, cddc, effe. With its volta at line nine, this might be a sonnet, save its 12 lines rather than 14. Wisley Wilbur does not try to stretch out another couplet. The poem ends where it wants. Where it ought.

So, dear reader, since I am still a bit under the weather, I will end here and leave you with one thought:

Take every opportunity to engage with great poems. Tomorrow I will talk to you about my pre-illness trip to Boston to Grolier's Poetry Bookshop, speak of hotels and lobster hash and my coffee mug from the Harvard Book Store. TTFN as Tigger would say.