When I was in the eighth grade, my Language Arts teacher had us write a poem entitled I AM... We had to create a sentence that we felt described ourselves, summed up who we were, and each stanza started or ended with this sentence. We were provided the beginning of each sentence which went like this:
I am
I wonder
I hear
I see
I want
I am
I pretend
I feel
I touch
I worry
I cry
I am
I understand
I say
I dream
I try
I hope
I am
When we turned in our poem, our teacher made a copy of it. She had us fill out an envelope with our mailing address and in our senior year of high school she mailed us a copy. She wanted us to look at it and see if we had changed in those 4 years.
This was my teenage version:
I Am...
I am a teenager who loves to play the flute and shop.
I wonder what I will see in the future as my pretty blue eyes stare into space.
I hear the sounds of my flute floating through the air when I become a famous flutist.
I see myself coming off stage after my concert on the flute.
I want to travel around the world with my flute.
I am a teenager who loves to play the flute and shop.
I pretend I am a famous flutist.
I feel the pressure of performing.
I touch the silver keys and the pages of music.
I worry if I will ever become good enough to go on world tours.
I cry when a loved one gets hurt.
I am a teenager who loves to play the flute and shop.
I understand that my daddy will never let me grow up.
I say shop till you drop.
I dream on day I'm rich enough to stop window shopping.
I hope that eventually my daddy will let me grow up.
I am a teenager who loved to play the flute and shop.
Written December 1989
Lets just say that I did NOT go on to Juliard and become a famous musician. In fact, It has been a very long time since I have even touched my flute. My son began playing the saxophone this year and I have discovered that I have lost the ability to even get a note out of my instruments and I can no longer read sheet music. Oh how far we fall.
Be sure to come back tomorrow to see the version of this poem that I wrote when I was a young mother.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
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Subscribed by e-mail so that I won't miss any more posts. :) love that: B in your in box.
ReplyDeleteI would have thought that music and such was like riding a bike. What a great exercise this poem was...can't wait to see the next version. Will you do another one for where you are now?
Got your new post to my inbox :) So glad its working well!!
ReplyDeleteI think I may "borrow" this idea for a future post - very expressive!
As a former language arts teacher who had students do these poems, I am soooo thrilled to see someone who kept theirs and used it as an adult for such a cool purpose. (I just read the adult version)
ReplyDeleteHi and Happy SITS day!
ReplyDeleteIt doesn't matter that you didn't get into Juliard but it does sound like there's still a lot of music in your home and that's great. (-:
That is a cool idea your language arts teacher had in waiting 4 years to send you that poem (all I can think is: she must've been SO organized, to keep them all, and remember to mail them!) What a great idea. Looking forward to reading more of your blog!