This week we're looking at Hughes' poetry in the eleventh grade.
Yesterday we looked at the following excerpt from a Langston Hughes poem called "Mother to Son."
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor --
Bare.
The task was to identify literary devices and to determine what "it" might be. New concepts: extended metaphor and imagery as descriptions that appeal to one of the five senses.
Ameer wanted to know "What's the big deal with a floor with no carpet on it? Hands shot into the air. I'm fortunate to teach students who don't to answer each others' questions, rather than let 'teacher' answer. They want their voices heard!
"It's uncomfortable on your feet, but the carpet is soft," "Carpets keep a house warm, so it makes it seem like the house is cold."
Jeneen had a great comment about the way the word "Bare." seemed to demonstrate its meaning by being set on a line all by itself, which led someone from last year's tenth grade class to add "enjambment" to the list of literary devices present. We also included the "anaphora" of "and" at the beginning of consecutive lines.
They then looked at Langston Hughes' poem "Harlem", which they discussed today most fruitfully. In fact, OK, I wasn't going to write about this but their comments were so good. Here's the poem:
Or does it explode?
After identifying the devices present, we established the structure of the poem. They were far more articulate than I expected about this: we've got an opening question, and then a series of "solutions" or "possibilities". The question of the day was, "OK, if this is our scenario, that the dream is deferred," and these are the possible outcomes, do we feel like it's ok for a dream to be deferred or not?
The task was to determine whether the outcome of a dream being deferred was ok or not. In pairs, they analysed each simile for whether it seemed like a positive or negative outcome.
Some of the straightforward stanzas didn't prompt debate, but some prompted great output. Everyone thought that something "festering like a sore" was a terribly negative image, but then Zain pointed out that "even a sore heals, and gets better again, so the dream isn't lost."
The image that the dream might "crust and sugar over -- like a syrupy sweet" also prompted debate. Ameer expressed himself well describing how a sweet that it left out and develops a crust is not something you want to eat later. Yes, it's still sweet, but no longer something you're interested in. The excitement, as with the dream deferred, is lost. Murad remarked that sometime described with so much sweet language would be overly sweet, and we learned the phrase "cloyingly" sweet.
Toward the end of the discussion, Nour argued that a dream sometimes isn't deferred, it just dies. When prompted for an example, she said "What if I want to be a doctor, but the hospitals where I want to work in Europe can't give me a visa to leave Palestine?" I asked whether anyone saw, expressed in the poem, the possibility that a dream can change when it's deferred. Ayah added a winner comment, pointing to the line about the raisin. The raisin starts out as a grape, but when it dries up, some of its essence has been transformed into a gas. It's not gone, but it's been changed in shape. The raisin that's left isn't garbage, it's not supposed to be thrown away, and it can even be useful, nutritious and sweet. But it's not the same as the grape it once was.
Helu.
Hoping to end on a high note, I saved the last few minutes for Basket of DOOM, a spelling bee challenge where the two sections of 11th graders compete. To earn a point, the student whose name I draw must correctly spell three of the words drawn from the Basket of DOOM. I drew Kareem's name and many soft "Yes!'s" sounded. However he misspelled exaggerated, his first word. Next drawn was Dalia, who correctly spelled
develop
donating
saddened
and earned the class a point. The sections are now tied.
Yesterday we looked at the following excerpt from a Langston Hughes poem called "Mother to Son."
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor --
Bare.
The task was to identify literary devices and to determine what "it" might be. New concepts: extended metaphor and imagery as descriptions that appeal to one of the five senses.
Ameer wanted to know "What's the big deal with a floor with no carpet on it? Hands shot into the air. I'm fortunate to teach students who don't to answer each others' questions, rather than let 'teacher' answer. They want their voices heard!
"It's uncomfortable on your feet, but the carpet is soft," "Carpets keep a house warm, so it makes it seem like the house is cold."
Jeneen had a great comment about the way the word "Bare." seemed to demonstrate its meaning by being set on a line all by itself, which led someone from last year's tenth grade class to add "enjambment" to the list of literary devices present. We also included the "anaphora" of "and" at the beginning of consecutive lines.
They then looked at Langston Hughes' poem "Harlem", which they discussed today most fruitfully. In fact, OK, I wasn't going to write about this but their comments were so good. Here's the poem:
Harlem
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
After identifying the devices present, we established the structure of the poem. They were far more articulate than I expected about this: we've got an opening question, and then a series of "solutions" or "possibilities". The question of the day was, "OK, if this is our scenario, that the dream is deferred," and these are the possible outcomes, do we feel like it's ok for a dream to be deferred or not?
The task was to determine whether the outcome of a dream being deferred was ok or not. In pairs, they analysed each simile for whether it seemed like a positive or negative outcome.
Some of the straightforward stanzas didn't prompt debate, but some prompted great output. Everyone thought that something "festering like a sore" was a terribly negative image, but then Zain pointed out that "even a sore heals, and gets better again, so the dream isn't lost."
The image that the dream might "crust and sugar over -- like a syrupy sweet" also prompted debate. Ameer expressed himself well describing how a sweet that it left out and develops a crust is not something you want to eat later. Yes, it's still sweet, but no longer something you're interested in. The excitement, as with the dream deferred, is lost. Murad remarked that sometime described with so much sweet language would be overly sweet, and we learned the phrase "cloyingly" sweet.
Toward the end of the discussion, Nour argued that a dream sometimes isn't deferred, it just dies. When prompted for an example, she said "What if I want to be a doctor, but the hospitals where I want to work in Europe can't give me a visa to leave Palestine?" I asked whether anyone saw, expressed in the poem, the possibility that a dream can change when it's deferred. Ayah added a winner comment, pointing to the line about the raisin. The raisin starts out as a grape, but when it dries up, some of its essence has been transformed into a gas. It's not gone, but it's been changed in shape. The raisin that's left isn't garbage, it's not supposed to be thrown away, and it can even be useful, nutritious and sweet. But it's not the same as the grape it once was.
Helu.
Hoping to end on a high note, I saved the last few minutes for Basket of DOOM, a spelling bee challenge where the two sections of 11th graders compete. To earn a point, the student whose name I draw must correctly spell three of the words drawn from the Basket of DOOM. I drew Kareem's name and many soft "Yes!'s" sounded. However he misspelled exaggerated, his first word. Next drawn was Dalia, who correctly spelled
develop
donating
saddened
and earned the class a point. The sections are now tied.
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