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Posts from the ‘Reflective Practice’ Category

Jun 1

“Writing Naked”

By Judy Jester

      The first time I wrote a piece for Voices in the Middle, I intended merely to document the nuts and bolts of the annual poetry slam I run at my school. It was fun. Here’s how you do it. But that’s more of the Instructor magazine type article. NCTE expects you to explain why such an endeavor is worthwhile. In attempting to clarify this for others, I discovered it myself. The poetry competition isn’t only fun; it fosters better writing as well. In what eventually resulted in Audience and Revision: Middle Schoolers Slam Poetry (Feb. 1997), I documented the results of interviews with students who said that they revised their poems far more because they knew they would be performing them in front of their peers. Read more

May 26

Moving Past the Required Reflection

By Monica DeMuro

        Reflection is something we’re all taught as educators going through college. For some of us, by the time we graduate, reflection becomes rote, something we have to check off at the end of the semester. It became that way for me.  At times, I felt as though I was reflecting upon reflecting upon reflecting. I couldn’t take it anymore! Like many methods learned in our education classes, the value of reflection only became realized in practice in the real life classroom. Read more

May 19

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Reflective Practice Makes a Difference

By Diane Esolen Dougherty

It seemed like a great idea.  It worked in Up the Down Staircase!  What could possibly go wrong? My seniors seemed to have been engaged, enthusiastic even, in our study of Hamlet.  “Let’s put Hamlet on trial for the deaths of Claudius and Gertrude,” I said. I planned the project painstakingly, making certain that every class member had a role. I specified precisely what each role necessitated. I steered the required research. I indicated the minimum and maximum time limits for each presentation. I offered extra credit for providing props and I encouraged cooperative grouping. What I didn’t foresee was the abysmal flop that my exquisite planning failed to prevent. Read more

May 12

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On Stephen King: A Reflection

By Gaetan Pappalardo

I circled the neighborhood looking for a place to park that wasn’t too, well…suspicious? I wasn’t breaking the law, even though I felt a little mischievous.  Bangor, Maine in April is pretty desolate. I couldn’t hide in a crowd or park in a lot.  The streets are wide. It’s quiet. I drove around the block a few times trying to gather the nerve to park, excitement growing with each pass.  There’s no mistaking his house. He’s definitely not hiding from the public’s eye.  The black gargoyles perched atop the wrought iron fence were a dead giveaway.  Stephen King has lived here since 1980. He’s spent time in various locations in Maine throughout his life and also did a stint in Boulder, Colorado where he wrote The Shining, but Maine is his home.

When asked, “Why Bangor? Why did you pick this place to settle down and write?”

Read more

May 4

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Reflecting on Reflecting

by Rose Cappelli

       Have you ever had the experience of discovering a new word or a new idea and then, as if by magic, you start to hear or see it everywhere? Sometimes it’s not necessarily something new, but something you have just been thinking quite a bit about. That is what it was like for me recently with the idea of reflection.

       Before I sit down to write something, it is usually part of my process to think through what I want to say, perhaps engage in some internal oral rehearsal, maybe do a little research, and then start to write. So for the past few days essentially what I have been doing is reflecting on reflecting. It wasn’t long before I started to see or hear “reflect” or “reflection” everywhere. Read more

Dec 22

December Snowfall

By Kathy Barham

Scraping my car windows,
I remember a March snowstorm

in Virginia, a blizzard that made the pine trees
droop and the bird feeder sway

while we played long games of scrabble,
drank bourbon, dug out candles

and waited for the power to go out.
The second day, more of the same,

the lights still on, the jars full of water
still untouched, and glazed

as the cars we took brooms and shovels
to when the novelty of being snowed

in wore off and the men we said
we needed around had not

shown.
While the white wind

blew the snow we swept
back and tires whirred in their ruts,

I recalled the insistent way
the house finches had fought the air

and each other for food
and found myself pushing harder

while you manned the steering wheel.
On the third try,

when we rocked the first car
out, the only sounds

were the snow’s hollow crunch
and wing beats.

 

Kathy Barham profileKathy Barham, a native of Virginia, moved to Pennsylvania in 1998. She attended the Writing Institute in 2011 and retired from teaching English at Conestoga High School in 2012 after a 22-year career. She currently enjoys tutoring students in expository and creative writing, catching up on reading, and working on her own writing.

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