Reading maketh a full man . . . . . Speaking maketh a ready man . . . . . Writing maketh an exact man.

~~Sir Francis Bacon

Thursday, April 4, 2013

due Friday, April 12, 2013 (Where I'm From)

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Template This template has been used in writing assignments at the Campbell Folk School in North Carolina, Lisa Davis' Colorado Class, and Mrs. Cortez's 2012-13 IEW Class.

1 I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.
2
I am from the _______ (home description... adjective, adjective, sensory detail).
3
I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail)
4
I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).
5
I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).
6
From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).
7
I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.
8
I'm from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).
9
From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).
10
I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).

The beautiful poem by George Ella Lyons called "Where I'm From." inspired this exercise




Where I'm From
by George Ella Lyons

1• I am from clothespins,
from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.
2•
I am from the dirt under the black porch.
(Black, glistening
it tasted like beets.)
3•
I am from the forsythia bush,
the Dutch elm
whose long gone limbs I remember
as if they were my own.

4• I'm from fudge and eyeglasses,
from Imogene and Alafair.
5•
I'm from the know-it-alls
and the pass-it-ons,
from perk up and pipe down.
6•
I'm from He restoreth my soul
with a cottonball lamb
and ten verses I can say myself.
7• I'm from Artemus and Billie's Branch,
fried corn and strong coffee.
8•
From the finger my grandfather lost
to the auger
the eye my father shut to keep his sight.
Under my bed was a dress box
spilling old pictures,
a sift of lost faces
to drift beneath my dreams.
9•
I am from those moments-
snapped before I budded-
leaf-fall from the family tree.
Anna (9 years old) 

Where I'm From

I am from the little log cabin across the pasture from Jesus' house; from multi-colored elastic pony-tail holders, from Polly Pockets, tea parties, Nancy Drew and Scrabble. 

I am from the cozy and crowded, snug and comfortable, the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg. I am from aspen and pine trees, mountain and prairie. From bad singing on birthdays and twenty-zillion pies at Thanksgiving.

I am from Nina and Grandmom, from Davises and Chenoweths -- choir singers, movie quoters and hula-hoopers from way back.  From "Do unto others" and "Offer it up."  I am from my Roman Catholic Faith, undiluted, unchanged, full of life and love and bounded by the rules and the rosary and the Mass and from flowers and pictures pinned around statues of the saints.

I'm from the the rolling plains and fertile valleys in the shadow of the mighty Colorado Rockies; from Ireland, and England, and Wales, and Germany. 

I'm from quesadillas and bread sticks and potato soup.  From Colcanon on St. Patrick's and Bouillabaisse on New Year's and chai in the morning if I'm lucky.

I am from my four big brothers' snowstorm "white-outs;" my three big sisters' music and baking; my little brothers' in trouble for bouncing on the couch. I'm from sitting on the sidelines giggling at all of them. 

I'm from a billion photos on the hard-drive and a dozen tacked over the desk nearby; from a ten-sibling pyramid, and mountain top hikes, and board game bonanzas in a log cabin in the mountains.

I am from love and hugs and sibling squabbles; from a Mommy just waiting to hear what I'll say next and a Daddy who loves and "whoops up" unconditionally.  I am from memories and love to last me a lifetime.

And then some.
Student 1
1 I am from hairspray
From braces and rubberbands.
2 I am from lightning bugs
Fluttering in the summer night sky.
3 I am from Belle
The cute little puppy
We rescued from the pound
And Smoky the cat
Whose death still touches my heart.
4 I am from Papaw’s goulash
And Momma’s pumpkin pie
From Dad’s overbearing
Protectiveness of his little girl.
5 I am from outrageous
Eleven foot Christmas trees
And joyous Thanksgiving feasts.
6 I am from French immigrants
From 1692 and New Paltz, New York
7 I am from Louis Bevier and Marie Le Blanc.
8 I am from the American dream
From broken despair and gained hope
9 I am the present, past, and future,
History in the making



Student 2
1I am from Texas
where deep in the heart lies Austin.
2I am from the sunny Saturday afternoons
of Texas Longhorn football games.
3I am from sports
and the lessons that I learn from these games
I play with all my ability and enjoy the victories.
4I am from my family, friends,
and awesome food.
5I am from my grandmother’s warm pies
and my parents’ cooking, from which
I grew to be a large boy.
6I am from Texas barbeque
which smells and tastes like none other.
Although I cannot have it right now
7I can still remember.
8I am from Tennessee
where I live at the Foothills of the Smokies
and enjoy hiking on clear days.
9I am from lessons in literature
and the sounds of a saxophone.
10I am from the “try your hardest”
and “never give ups.”
11I’m from my hard work
and the present as I continue on life’s journey.

  

Where I am from…

By Valerie Peters
I am from a breakfast
Where the bacon and sausage
Was previously raised in the backyard
And the scrambled or sometimes fried eggs
Had just been gathered earlier in the week
And homemade biscuits, not from a can
And isn’t complete without a glass of sweet tea, the southern style

I am from a family
Dad that feeds all the domestic animals
And hunts wildlife for our own consumption
Mom who works her 7-3 management job
And cleans, does laundry, and prepares the meals
Two brothers, Michael and Matthew, to wrestle with usually against my will
To play games with or whatnot in our empty time
Them making me into what I am today
Grandparents that have been through a lot, but never letting it show
And their still continue to move forward attitude
I, myself, feeling closer to them than to my own mother and father

I am from the beautiful southwestern Virginia
Where no matter what direction you look toward
It’s just as amazing as the other
Where during the fall the leaves change color
And drop from the trees creating an array of beauty
Taking drives along the Blue Ridge Parkway
Just to stop and take in the glory
Or play a game of Frisbee
A town so small that gossip goes around
And is changed person to person
Where there is always someone in your business
From the waterfall, where we would skip school
To be astonished by the movement of water
A place we created “On top of the World” being,
Not only a housing development but at the very top of the hill
You can look out at what stretches around the county

I am from
A place that no matter how hard one tries,
They can never take it away from ME
Because it has grown to be a part of who I am
And that cannot be erased.                                                                                 
 I am from Carroll County, Virginia.

I’m from Home
By Valerie Bandell
I’m from a small town
between the hustle and bustle
where neighbors are like family.

I’m from skimmed knees,
jumping fencings, and
water sprinklers.

I’m from a purple mini-van,
soccer practice, dance practice,
girl scouts and music lessons.

I am from sisterhood
yellow and blue,
gold and onyx.

I’m from Frisbee discs,
campfires,
lightening bugs, and
sleeping bags.

I’m from family dinners,
hiding vegetables, wet noses,
and wagging tails.

I’m from friends that are family,
and family that are friends.

I’m from home and their ain’t no place
I’d rather be.



Where I’m From ~ Fred First ~ November 2003
1 I am from the peaceful banks of a creek with no name; from JFG, toast and blackberry jam and home-made granola.
2 I am from "a house with double porches," a room filled with good ghosts and creek laughter in the mornings before first light.
3 I am from Liriodendron and Lindera, butterfly bush and mountain boomers
4 I am from Dillons and Harrisons, Betty Jean and Granny Bea-- frugal and long-lived, stubborn and tender, quick to laugh. Or cry.
5 I am from a world whose geography my children know better than I, from a quiet valley where I am the proprietor and world authority of its small wonders.
6 From barn loft, secret passwords and children who can fly if they only try.
7 I am from oven-baked Saran Wrap and colds caught from jackets worn indoors.
8 I am from pire in the blood Baptists, from the cathedral made without hands, the church in the wildwoods, the covenant of grace.
9 I'm from the Heart of Dixie, son of Scarlett O'Hara. From War Eagle, Wiffle, UAB and PT, from Walnut Knob's blue ridge and the soft shadows of Goose Creek.
10 From a "fast hideous" dresser and a home body from Woodlawn, from a grandfather I never knew that I can blame for my love of nature and my stubbornness, they tell me.
11 I am from fragments, the faint smell of wood smoke, and familiar walks among trees I know by name, from HeresHome and good stock. A man can hardly ask to be from more.



This idea was explored as an template for a  group performance. After some re-working and blocking choices, here is the final draft of the script.
Louisiana Voices
by Summer 2000 Institute participants

All
: We are Louisiana voices
Northern Voices
: A patchwork quilt
Southern Voices
: A spicy gumbo
Central Voices
: Crossroads connecting
All
: We are Louisiana voices
Sally
I am from hands
pushing into dark, rich soil
on the bayou's bank
I'm from slapped hands
humiliated, ridiculed
punctuating the forbidden
French language
I am from blistered hands
holding hammers not plows
in New Iberia, Ibeia, the Queen City.

Christine
I am from
the second migration
away from the roots of
Spanish moss
Evangeline oaks
Bayou Teche
I return
to the land of
Arceneaux, Broussard, Maraist, Lake Peigneur
I am deeply rooted in the Grand Marais
the sugar cane, the traiteur
, and the loup garou
the Iberians of Ma Louisiane
.
Martha
I am from the
North and the South,
A steel magnolia,
Easily bruised yet
Strong and bold.

Maria
I am from bayous of gumbo water.
From Angelle, Alceé, Marie,
A-ma, A-pa, Ma-Maw, and Paw.
And Mama saying, "The years may come
And the years may go,
But there will always be a Babineaux."

Cindy
I am from everyday bridges
Of ageless cypress and muscadine vines
Crossing time and Bayou Teche.

Danette
I am from swift running racehorse legs,
Sprinting to buy Lea's infamous pies,
Cool creek water chilling the bones
Of any brave soul who dares to intrude.

Cindi
I am from my Grandma Stype, long gone,
The keeper of ponies, chickens, and "wooper" dogs.

Dixie
I am from the death scent of
wild rabbit, dove, and quail in my father's hunting vest.

Jo Lynn
I am from the watermelon thump parades,
Rainbow Girls and air-raid drills.
I'm "A Daydream Believer"
Who "Can't Get No Satisfaction."

Brenda
I am from
the aroma of Community Coffee,
small hands serving Grandfather
his morning cup on the back porch,
oak trees behind us.

Angi
I am from the circle oaks
Where I stand as gusts of warm winds
Gather up my every hair
And make a dancer of me.

Kim
I'm from the Smith and Meaux branch,
Coffee milk and coush coush

Oilfield sweat and pennies pinched
From hand-me-downs,
From garfish balls and from boiled eggs in gumbo.

Wendy
I am from the slow moving waters
Of Atchafalaya week-ends,
Dripping from fat full moons,
Fitted piece by piece
Into the quilting frame
Stretched across the pinewood floor
Upstairs
Where the sun is best
Where everything is clear.

Gayle
I am from store-bought dresses and handmade quilts.

Sandy
I am from "Je vous salue Marie, pleine de grace
" and
"Notre Père, qui est au ciel...
"
from "Et cum spiritu tou
," "Ora pro nobis" and "Mea culpa,
mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
"
Vicki
I am from pine trees, magnolia leaves,
Sugar cane and cotton fields crisscrossing Bayou Boeuf
From fishing holes and barbeques
From a sense that He is in charge.

Sally
I am from calloused hands
soothed in the earth
of backyard gardens,
cultivating tomatoes, okra, sweet corn
I am from celebrating hands
passing a good time
squeezing accordions
fingering fiddles
peeling crawfish
holding a bourré
hand
I am from protective hands
pushing offspring
deeper into the city
spreading fingers to allow
glimpses to the past
I am from reaching hands
replanting roots
reweaving threads
of a rich heritage
I am from
Acadian Hands

Claire
I am from bayous of
Fiddles, accordions, and the fais - do - do
.
All: We are Louisiana voices
Northern Voices
: A patchwork quilt
Southern Voices
: A spicy gumbo
Central Voices
: Crossroads connecting
All
: We are Louisiana voices.
 
 

 

 

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