Like many American poets, I teach literature and creative writing at a university part time. This semester, along with a poetry writing course, I’ve been teaching Introduction to Poetry to thirty undergraduates, most of whom are in my class to fulfill general education requirements. I’ve got undeclared sophomores, junior physics majors, education and criminology majors, and pre-meds and even a couple of students who might want to take more English courses. Part of the Connecticut State University system, my classes are mostly made of students from Connecticut, but contrary to the image of Nutmeggers as rich, white, and spoiled, my students are as diverse as students in any college classroom in the U.S. And what moves me the most is that many of them are the first in their families to get a college degree. These students hold down fulltime jobs, raise children, care for extended families and have recently returned from serving the country in the Armed Forces. Many commute often an hour or more to get to class.
It became clear to me very quickly that I’d have one shot to pull them into that well of poetry that I leapt into years ago, one chance to be upended and surprised by what beautifully-arranged language can do to a person. So I went the way of the ancients: I had them commit a poem to memory, to carry it in their bellies, to say it, loudly, proudly, and standing.
My students chose which poem they’d recite-- an eight-line minimum. They were graded on memorization, depth of conveyed feeling, and vocal strength. Some students, the more introverted, had trouble saying their poems in front of the class. (I know that public speaking is a widely-held fear.) Others rushed through a well-memorized poem, dropping the ends of lines as though speaking into the wind. But the majority of my students surprised themselves, settling into the poem’s rhythms, tasting the language, enjoying the message. And the rest of us, snapping our fingers in the Beat tradition, shook our heads at what we were hearing: real living poetry.
I loved doing this back in the day when I taught poetry at community college. It felt like real teaching in the purest sense - bringing something to someone they could carry within them forever. Didn't work with every student, but there was always someone for whom the fire was lit. And I was always moved by how supportive the students were of each other's efforts at recitation. It was great.
And how lucky your students are to have you as their teacher!
Posted by: Laura Orem | April 26, 2011 at 06:59 AM
Hi Laura. I'm heartened to learn that poetry recitation as part of the curriculum hasn't died out. And you're so right about it lighting a fire for some students. I gave my class the choice of doing another recitation or a paper based on a close read of Stephen Dunn's poem, "Sweetness." About a third of the class chose another recitation, and of that third, a few recited 15 to 20 lines. We had two unbelievable moments-- one when a student recited Lady MacBeth's speech, and other who delivered Shakespeare's "My mistress' eyes" with such force that many of us had tears in our eyes.
Posted by: Leslie McGrath | April 26, 2011 at 11:13 AM
One thing that is very cool is when you can tell the student speaking the poem really feels it in his or her bones. A while back, I wrote a post about the late Roland Flint and an exercise he led a group of people through to get a poem by heart - and he was very clear that there is a difference between getting it by heart and memorizing it. Here's the link if anyone is interested:
http://thebestamericanpoetry.typepad.com/the_best_american_poetry/2009/03/twice-as-many-stars-by-laura-orem.html
Posted by: Laura Orem | April 26, 2011 at 01:56 PM