November 4, 2016

I spent part of the afternoon with some children on the plains. The 19 acre site never looked better not only because of the beauty of grasses.  I watched the colorful jackets of children bounce and dodge in the distance as they made their way along the trail. I was glad to see this. This is what the place is for. This is the kind of playground I’d like to see for all children.

I was asked by Nomi to work with these 9 children to draw them out and try writing poetry. We started with a scavenger hunt.

I ended up with a vociferous fifth grade boy. I admit, I cheated by helping him find some of the items on the scavenger list. “Look, here’s something fuzzy.” I knelt to show him dried leaves of a mullen plant. He was excited holding a pencil, plastic bag and clipboard. I lightened his load holding the clipboard as we checked off …something green, nibbled, straight, bumpy etc…

This wasn’t really about collecting the items; it was about directing their attention to this rare habitat. “I can’t find a feather.” He said. I suggested we could find one in a bird box. I knew there’d be a feather in side for sure…tree swallows have consistently nested there although they were meant for bluebirds. My friend John Potente donated several boxes in hopes of attracting a bird that most surely occupied the much bigger version of this unique place. We left the trail and headed for the bird box. “I’m getting prickles.” He exclaimed.  Sure enough, raspberry canes, low to the ground were very annoying. I suggested he return to the trail. I reached the box, opened the top to retrieve a birds feather only to be surprised by yellow jackets. I quickly closed the top. Instead, we went looking for a bone. I knew of a dead kestrel carcass that I found near the Sandplain Gerardia enclosure. No luck. It was time to return to the education center.

Now, to help them write a poem. My plan was to first have them role play some historical and present-day things that happen here to stimulate their experience. First I asked them to move together, raise their arms and sway back and forth to represent wind sweeping past the dried stalks of grass. Next, we pretended what a farmer’s arms would look like holding the two handles of a horse-drawn plow; we pretended to be sheep down on hands and knees; getting lost in tall Indian Grass; an Indian drawing their bow and arrow; and best of all, how alien seeds fail to penetrate thick thatch. For this, I designated the smallest child to play the seed. The rest of us locked arms in a row. She had to try to pass through our barrier. She did, crawling through my legs. Lastly, I showed them how to swing their arms to imitate how farmers used their scythes to cut grass.

Back indoors, while the children looked at a demonstration, I prepared 5 x 7 index cards with first line prompts to jump start their poem. Here are the five prompts:

  1. “I saw a seed land on the plain.”
  2. The farmer stopped to wipe her brow.”
  3. A young Indian boy raised his bow and arrow.”
  4. I lost my way in the tall, tall grass.”
  5. “Ouch! I’m stuck in prickly vines.”
  6. “A young girl brought a pail of water for the scythers.”

I offered a reward if they could write four lines. With markers and cards, they went to work. I called each to read their poem. Each received applause from the adults and a “Best writing” card with their first name. The kids had cookies and box drinks for snacks. I showed them the scythe hanging on the wall, and a painting by Andrew Wyeth titled “The Scythers”

I was given a gift basket by Nomi, who organized this project. But, my real reward was seeing and working with children from Baldwin.

Tom Stock