I’m thrilled to announce that next month, I’m launching a quarterly ginko (haiku walk) series around the Soulard neighborhood. The first event takes place on Saturday, October 26th at 9:30 a.m. It’s free, family-friendly, and open to anyone in the St. Louis area.
I’ve wanted to start hosting ginkos in St. Louis for over a year now, but with everything else I have going on, it kept getting pushed to the back burner. Finally, though, I realized I could start hosting them in conjunction with the Soulard Restoration Group Community Involvement & Events Committee.
Here are my goals for the series:
Provide free haiku education in a digestible format.
Provide space for people to practice writing haiku without worrying about critique or judgment.
Create a family- and beginner-friendly event.
Explore Soulard and learn about its unique history.
Recognize that haiku can be written in any environment, and that urban spaces are just as legitimate haiku spaces as pastoral ones.
We will meet at the Soulard Community Garden and spend 90 minutes learning about haiku, walking, exploring, and writing. The event concludes at the historic Soulard Market, a great place to explore at the conclusion of events.
If you have any haikurious friends in the St. Louis area, forward this post along to them!
I’m excited for the four poetry events I have in place for May. (There might be a fifth, but details are still in the works, so it’s too early to post about.) Scroll down to find out about my two workshop offerings, as well as two opportunities for collaborative poetry writing. As we are still dealing with COVID-19, all May events will take place on Zoom.
May Workshops
Hawks Don’t Circle: Accuracy and Expansiveness in Nature Poetry May 26th, June 2nd, June 9th, and June 16th 7:00-8:30 pm Central time Tuition: $233 early bird until Sunday, May 16th 2021; $333 standard rate Register at the course page. Description: This workshop is designed to help poets both create more accurate, precise images in nature poetry. In the first two sessions, we will study the ways in which errors in naturalistic descriptions can compromise a poem, and also look at ways in which to employ skillful depictions of nature. We will also draft our own poems in relation to course topics. In the latter two sessions, we will study poems that go beyond images of nature to make broader cultural, social, or political statements. We will take time to research and refine our drafts from class, workshop with peers, and experiment with expanding our depictions of nature into a wider context. There are weekly reading assignments and exploratory exercises between class sessions.
Haiku Beyond 5-7-5 May 29th, 2021 1:00-5:00 pm Central time Tuition: $100 Register at the Year of Forms page Description: Spend an afternoon studying and developing kireji (cutting word) and kigo (seasonal reference) in your haiku. Upon registration, you will receive two craft essays, one focused on kireji and one focused on kigo, to read before our workshop. You will also receive a series of haiku to read in advance. In addition to discussing the readings, we will have a workshop in which we practice improving our use of kireji, as well as incorporating kigo in an authentic way.
Collaborative Poetry Parties
Renga Happy Hour Thursday, May 20th 5:30-6:30 pm Central Time Free Event Register at Eventbrite for Zoom link Description: Renga is a form of poetry that originated in Japan. It’s meant to be written collaboratively. Let’s socialize on Zoom and write renga together! The hour will start with a brief introduction to the conventions of the form, and then we’ll have plenty of time to write. All levels of poetry experience welcome.
Exquisite Corpse Lunch Break Tuesday, May 25th 12:15-12:45 pm Central Time Free Event Register at Eventbrite for Zoom link Description: The exquisite corpse is a poetry form in which every person contributes a line. Let’s take some time in the early afternoon to stretch our creative muscles and write a collaborative poem! This is a great way to connect with other poets even at a distance. All levels of poetry experience welcome.
While I mostly write in free verse, most of my poet friends know that I love form. In fact, even in my free verse, I usually incorporate some formal aspect… Something that my MFA thesis advisor and I butted heads about on a regular basis! Even though I don’t regularly write with rhyme and meter, I do enjoy incorporating some formal structure into my work. Sometimes that means only writing in tercets, or repeating a specific word, or making the poem fit a predetermined shape. I find the challenge a major source of inspiration.
Starting this April, I’m launching A Year of Forms. Whether it be meditation, writing, or some other endeavor, I’ve found long periods of practice and study to be invaluable. I’ve decided I want to spend the next year of my life studying form, and I want to study it with you!
While I’ve created a yearlong program, I know that might not work for everyone. To that end, I’ve divided the workshop into four themed series. That way, you can still get the benefit of some longer structured study. Single workshop sessions are also available. Finally, if you’re looking for one-on-one critiques, I’m offering optional private sessions to supplement the program.
Check out the program page for details. I look studying form with you this year!
After teaching the second half of the spring 2020 semester entirely online, I thought that I’d teach the summer remotely and return to the classroom in the fall of 2020. At the start of the fall semester, I was still teaching remotely, but figured I’d be returning to the classroom in the spring. Now I’m potentially getting back into the physical classroom in the summer. Below are additional observations I’ve made as I continue to teach remotely.
Teaching fuel
Never say never, never say always, there are always exceptions, usually. I learned that phrase from my seventh grade science teacher, Mr. Radie. It’s one of the sayings that has stayed with me throughout my adult life because I see how it plays out time and time again. For example, though ACC uses a well-resarched and tested organizational structure for all online classes, the setup and course design still does not work for 100% of students 100% of the time. While we’ve been trained to structure our classes to be easy to navigate and understand, with a focus on accessibility, there is no way to design a course that is perfect for 100% of students. We do our best and work to always get better, and yet we still have to keep in mind that there are (almost) always exceptions to the rules, and there is no one system that is perfect for every single person.
Online learning is not for everyone. Some people really do hate it. Some are showing up and powering through because they can’t or don’t want to put their degree and career goals on hold. That doesn’t mean that students won’t succeed in a classroom environment that’s a mediocre or bad fit. However, I do feel sorry for those who are trying to make the best of a bad situation and struggling because they’d be happier in a classroom.
I don’t believe that a student’s level of motivation is the reason for their success or failure in online learning. Throughout my teaching career, I’ve heard that students need to be more self-motivated than in an in-person classroom. This semester, I’ve started to doubt that. First, if being in a physical classroom could compensate for a lack of motivation, no student who came to an in-person class would ever quit. In addition, this semester, I have encountered some of the most motivated students I’ve ever encountered… and they still struggled. Students who wanted to be in the class, and even wanted to be taking online classes, still struggled. There’s more to success than motivation. Students are facing unprecedented challenges, and sometimes, the difficulties of work (or lack thereof) and family responsibilities mean a student is not going to finish the class. To chalk it up to motivation is a reductionist move that glosses over the complexities of online learning and pandemic learning.
Put information in multiple formats. This semester, I decided to experiment with making my weekly course announcements available in both email and video format. I’ve always done email announcements, but since all of my online courses were originally set up to be asynchronous, I decided it would be a good idea to give students the option to have an option where they could hear a voice and see a face. I wasn’t sure how many people would be interested. As it turns out, most students made use of both formats, and many students thanked me for giving them options.
I don’t believe that students should take course overloads during pandemics. I mean, I don’t think that students should take course overloads at any point. And I am a person who might have done so in undergrad had I been able to. But now that I’ve spent nearly a decade on the other side of the classroom, I’m seeing how intentionally overloading yourself as a student causes difficulty more often than not. Yes, some students might have compelling reasons to overload, and yes, some students can handle it. On the whole, however, I don’t think that taking course loads is a good idea, and especially not with pandemic stress. I had three excellent students who ended up really struggling in the last third of the semester, and the common thread among all of them was that their advisors had advised them to take overloads so they could graduate faster. Maybe this would have been fine for them without the stress of a pandemic, but between that and the fact that none of these students were in their preferred learning environment (a physical classroom), things did not end up working out very well. I don’t think advisors should be pushing students to graduate early with so much extra weight on their shoulders.
To all of my teacher friends out there: we’re going to get through this! Best of luck as we embark on anther pandemic semester. Here’s hoping for something better in the fall.
I’m writing this from my partner’s family farm in rural Illinois. It’s pretty easy to stay socially distant when you’re 40 miles away from the nearest grocery store. Astrid did great on the drive, and I can’t tell you what a joy it is to leave 105-degree heat for 85. I love summer, but I feel like Texas has gotten hotter the past few years. On my first morning here, we saw a mated pair of bald eagles flying over the farm.
Give her a stuffed toy, a cozy bed, and a kolache. She’s a happy dog!
Just before I left, I signed my contract to teach my first workshop with the Loft Literary Center! When I saw the call for course proposals this spring, I decided to jump at the chance. I’m thrilled to announce that Hawks Don’t Circle: Accuracy and Expansiveness in Nature Poetry is now open for registration! And since their offerings are all online this fall, you can take this course no matter where you live. Don’t live in Minnesota? Intent on maintaining social distancing? Wondering how you can connect with the wilderness in your own back yard? I’ve got you covered!
I first encountered the Loft back in 2013. I was exploring the possibility of doing an online MFA, and trying different online writing courses to see if the format would work for me. I was awarded a scholarship to take Bent Forms: Exploring and Exploding Formal Poetry with Paula Cisewski, and that class still resonates with me. It deepened my appreciation of poetic form, and the writing prompts yielded some rich work from all of the students.
In early 2016, I pitched a course to the Loft. It was one I’d taught before, but back then I was a greener teacher with minimal experience pitching courses and workshops. My proposal was declined, and then I got busy with my MFA, and then I spent nearly two years in MFA recovery. But although the pandemic has taken so much from all of us, in a way it’s also brought me back to some things.
When I submitted my application this spring, I knew that even if my workshop proposal didn’t get accepted, I knew I had definitely grown as a teacher and a proposal writer over the past four years. Putting together an application I was satisfied with, knowing I’d done my level best, was its own reward.
Of course, I was still thrilled to get the acceptance email. While I’m not giving up teaching technical writing anytime soon, I am thrilled to be moving back into the world of creative writing again. Wherever you are, I hope you can join me in September.
My last meal before quarantine: a giant boat of sushi that I shared with my friend Aneesa at Ichiban in Austin, Texas
I wasn’t surprised when ACC announced it would be switching to 100% distance learning for the remainder of the semester. And as someone who has been teaching at least one online class a semester since I started there, I’m pretty comfortable with the distance format. Because of my experience, I had a relatively easy time converting my classroom courses to online ones. Still, this challenge has given me an opportunity to reflect on my current teaching habits, and how I might shape my courses in the future.
Even students whose classes were already 100% online are struggling. Many of them have lost their jobs. Or they are essential workers, pulling lots of overtime and stressed out. Or their kids are suddenly home and also have to be on the computer all day for their K-12 classes, and there isn’t necessarily enough bandwidth or enough devices to go around easily. Some have even gotten sick. Every student needs to be treated with care right now, even if their course format didn’t suddenly change.
Converting a classroom course to an online course halfway is not the same as teaching a course that was online all along. My fully online courses are being run the same, though with an adjusted course calendar, because the extended spring break was granted to all students. I am also being as flexible as possible with everyone. But the converted courses are being run differently to maintain consistency where I can. Whereas my fully online courses were set up to be asynchronous, I’m running synchronous video sessions during normal class sessions for my classroom courses. Not everyone can attend (for all of the reasons mentioned in the previous paragraph), so I’m making video available after. But trying to maintain some semblance of regular weekly live connection has been helpful. There is no one-size-fits-all approach for how to do this.
Even students who attended live video sessions like being able to watch the replay. Many of my students have reported going back and re-watching the videos to clarify and reinforce information. This has been a great source of insight for me. Although my online classes will still be generally asynchronous, I’m exploring with ways to add a synchronous option once a week for those who want to attend. Then the video will be available for anyone who wants it. I haven’t decided how I want to implement that into established distance learning courses, but it will happen in some shape or form. And while I don’t love the idea of recording my in-person classes (once in-person classes can happen again) and posting them, I’m also wondering if that wouldn’t help student outcomes. It’s definitely something to consider.
Sometimes I still expect too much. This is true for both my students and for myself. In having to adjust all of my course calendars due to losing a week of instructional time, I had a great chance to see where I had too many activities, or was trying to cram in too much content. And there have been times in all of this where my perfectionism has caused me a great deal of stress. But I have to give myself the same sense of grace I do for my students and for my colleagues.
I’m glad I trusted my instincts. In the initial weeks of lockdown, there were a lot of articles about what teachers should or should not do, many of them with very black-and-white stances. Ultimately, I took some advice and rejected other advice. Implementation hasn’t been 100% perfect, but these are nowhere near perfect conditions. I’ve done my best, and most of the feedback from students tells me I made the right decisions for my particular courses.
This has truly been the most challenging semester of my teaching life. I already had a double overload before all of this started. I’ve faced a lot of doubt and overwhelm. But in all that, there has been a great deal of opportunity for reflection, and I think I will come out of this a better teacher.
That I had the foresight to bring my work laptop home when I left for spring break, even though school hadn’t officially been closed yet.
That I actually have been using my work laptop for work rather than just using my personal machine for everything.
That I listened to my instincts about what I needed to do for my class, rather than defaulting to all the pedagogical noise, and I can tell that I made the right call.
