Slice of Life – Dare to Care

Slice of Life: Lucky 11:11, My Cactus Garden and #Here4theKids

30/May/202330/May/2023 Denise Krebs4 Comments

Do you often see 11:11 on the clock? It is such a curiosity to me. It always reminds me of my junior high students in Granville, Iowa, who told me it was lucky. I never had paid attention before that. I thought it had something to do with Armistice Day, when the armistice ending World War I took effect on November 11 at 11 a.m. in 1918.

More than ever before, though, I am seeing 11:11 a.m. on my phone. (Never 11:11 p.m., for I am long in bed by then.) I’m spending way too much time on my phone in the mornings is the only explanation I can come up with. Is it a sign of being lucky that I’m retired that I see it so often?

And on a recent trip, at the bike shop while my husband talked to the owner, I stared at the clock throughout the 11:11 minute. Then as I thought to take a photo, I caught this one. Look at that time: 11:12:01. Just missed it.

On another note, my cactus garden is coming along. (By the way, Kim, I neglected to answer you about whether there was a saguaro cactus in there. It is not a saguaro, which is much bigger in diameter and not native to our desert. I’m not good with the names of the cacti. I do love saguaros too; one of my favorite places is Saguaro National Park.)

I added the rocks around my cactus garden recently

Here are some Ocotillo stems I planted this week. They look very dead now, but I hope they will take root. See the tiny green leaves on one of the stems?

This is what it should eventually look like:

This weekend my sister and I are going to Colorado to ask Governor Polis to do something sensible about guns.

Weeds

Our yard is choked with
foxtails and storkbills
Superbloom year
Dried out, they prick and poke
Our solution: weed the yard

Our nation is choked with
assault rifles and handguns
Superbloom of fear
Locked and loaded, they destroy and kill
#Here4theKidsAction‘s solution:
Weed the nation of guns

Let’s start in Denver on June 5

Slice of Life – On Planting Cacti and Kindness vs. Niceness

16/May/202316/May/2023 Denise Krebs6 Comments

Keith and I planted a barrel cactus this week. Last year I planted that blue agave in the background.

Now my sister has brought over some clippings from other cacti. This evening, in the coolness and shade, I will plant these pieces and then trim the area with rocks to make a little cactus garden. More photos later.

Another thing on my mind this week is kindness and what it really means. See chapter 2 of White Women: Everything You Already Know About Your Own Racism and How to Do Better for more.

Kindness vs. Niceness

“Your nice is actually evil,”
Saira and Regina say,
“Kindness…is a killer to your niceness.”
Most of my life I haven’t considered
the two as being contrary–
though I do know the fruit of the Spirit
is love, joy, peace,
patience, kindness, goodness,
faithfulness, gentleness, self-control
No mention of nice, nicer, nicest,
niceness, niceties, overnice…

One of my mother’s stated goals for all
her seven kids was that we would be nice.
A lifetime has brought me here, for
I became a nice success.
Now I find myself with further
unlearning to do.
So much of my niceness is driven by fear–
fear of standing out
fear of sitting in
fear of disappointing others
fear of making waves
fear of not being liked
fear of lacking strength
fear of fear of fear
to be, to do, to say the kind thing
sometimes kindness isn’t nice
always kindness isn’t easy
fear doesn’t have to be the winner
be kind

I just went outside and finished step 1. The rocks are a bigger deal. Maybe tomorrow.

Slice of Life – I’m Just Very Fearful

02/May/202302/May/2023 Denise Krebs22 Comments

“I’m just very fearful,” the white woman said at a school board meeting. (See video at the end.)

Actually, I’m not very fearful. My white privilege has put me in a position where I don’t have to fear living in my skin. I have two amazing daughters who have their own families now. And, bonus: this week my younger daughter and her dear husband are working from our home. Their offices have been moving around our place based on several factors–whether or not they are in a meeting, which porch has the perfect sunniness, where the wind shelters them, and today they’ve moved indoors because of the cold morning.

I get to spoil my cubs with good cooking like this morning’s breakfast of Lemon-Blueberry Dutch Baby.

On a more serious note, “I’m just very fearful” about the people who are so afraid of losing their position of white supremacy that they are killing others.

I remember when my kids were little there was a report, likely after a census, that predicted when the number of non-white people in America would surpass the number of white people. It was going to be by the year 20?? (I forget). It hasn’t happened yet, but lately I have noticed the impending change has cemented the culture of “white supremacy,” proving it is alive and sick in America. The fear that white supremacy might come undone seems to feed the ubiquitous gun culture too. This fear has gripped the lives of so many that now they are shooting neighbors and innocent travelers, not just nefarious intruders. Racism, white supremacy, religious fundamentalism, the history of the second amendment, and guns–they are all eternally entwined.

The following poem is written in the voice of a member of Moms for Liberty. (Watch the video below in Kenny Akers’ tweet. The quote “I’m just very fearful” comes from her statement at the school board meeting.

I’m just very fearful
Impossible to be cheerful
Replacement makes me tearful

I’m just very fearful
My white children will feel too awful
if you tell them their history is bad-full

I’m just very fearful
Do I worry he will grow up to pull
the trigger? — I’m just very fearful

Mom's of Liberty on school board tried to explain to the NAACP why she disagreed with diversity, equity, and inclusion. This is why I bring awareness! ✊🏾 pic.twitter.com/aGEtEBWH9z

— Kenny Akers (@KeneAkers) April 30, 2023

Slice of Life – On Choices in Reading and Banning Books

04/Apr/202305/Apr/2023 Denise Krebs10 Comments

4 April 2023 Slice of Life at TwoWritingTeachers.org

It’s good to be back here with you on just Tuesdays this month! One of the posts I read last month, I am still remembering with fondness today. It was at Trish’s Jump Off; Find Wings. She wrote a letter to Jane Yolen. It was warm and personal, and it sent me right away to the library to check out the two books she mentions:

The Devil’s Arithmetic, by Jane Yolen, a powerful Holocaust story that treats young people with the ability to handle truth, even when it is difficult.
Attack of the Black Rectangles, by Amy Sarig King, a story of censorship of children’s books, including The Devil’s Arithmetic, “for the good of the children,” Jane Yolen makes a heroic appearance in this book defending freedom to read. Attack of the Black Rectangles is based in part on a true event that happened to the author’s own child.

Since I had just finished the books, for my #Verselove poem today I thought about writing about censorship. I first wrote out some coherent thoughts. Because the prompt was to write in a grammatically ungrammatical way, I thought I would try that later.

When we ban and censor books
our children come to the conclusion
that we are afraid of them,
that we don’t trust them.
We make book sales go up,
not because of their content
but because of interest
sparked in the banning
What if we let our children and youth
decide what to read
based on their interests?
Not ours.

Then I went to change it up, to write as our mentor Jennifer Guyor Jowett did–writing grammatically ungrammatically–turning nouns into verbs, modifying nouns with adverbs, and so forth. It was fun, and I think the product is much better than the thoughts I wrote out first. What do you think?

When we ginger
around delicating and timiding
our adolescents
and children
with afraidness and frailitude,
when we “don’t-read-that” them–
our hungry people young–
we lose and abuse them.
we disaster education
and failure
historying
noveling
poeming
storying
failing to represent their
sacred wholly wings
represented for flightfully
library wholeness

March 20 – Open Writing Poetry with You

20/Mar/202320/Mar/2023 Denise Krebs11 Comments

March 20, 2023 TwoWritingTeachers.org

This week it is time for Ethical ELA’s Open Write. It’s always so joyful to spend time with this supportive writing community. (Lots of us are part of Slice of Life and the group that writes poetry at Open Write, like Maureen, Joanne, Kim, Glenda, Britt, Fran H., Barb, Margaret S., Molly, Heather, and me…Have I missed anyone else? Please tell me in the comments).

We meet five days a month and every day in April, when it’s called #Verselove. Below I’m posting a poem I wrote yesterday. You can join in on this week’s past prompts– Saturday, Sunday, and Monday–or join us Tuesday and Wednesday for more writing wonderfulness.

On Saturday, I wrote a whole post about the inconceivable junction between artificial intelligence and poetry. [On an aside: You may want to read the essay, published today, on Two Writing Teachers by Beth Moore, “We Need to Talk About AI Essays.” Fascinating.]

On Sunday, we wrote a Pile Poem on Canva, using a beautiful mentor poem by Amy Kay.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Amy Kay (@amykaypoetry)

And today, on Monday, we shared poetry on Flip (formerly Flipgrid.) Do come over and join the conversation. Find the link at the Ethical ELA site. (There is an invitation to give opinions about the use of AI in the poetry classroom.)

In April, we will have daily prompts. Please join us. If you are interesting, check out these Tips for Verseloving, created by our founder, Sarah Donovan.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

Open Write – March 18, 2023

18/Mar/202319/Mar/2023 Denise Krebs4 Comments

Today at Ethical ELA, Stef is leading us in a provocative discussion about AI use in poetry. Why tech? we are asking over the next three days. You are invited to join us at Ethical ELA Open Write and add your voice to the discussion.

After today’s activity, I am thoroughly befuddled.

Because of all the hype about AI in schools, I was glad to see Stef’s prompt this morning about using an AI tool to help with our poem. It was my first time using ChatGPT. I expected I might be able to get a good start on a poem, get a list of words to use, or some such thing. I didn’t know what to expect. But yikes! My prompt was “Compose a triolet poem about painting a door jamb”

The final poem followed the abaaabab pattern of rhyming and was eight lines long. It made grammatical sense, and I wouldn’t be embarrassed to “turn it in.” No editing, it looks like this:

Painting a door jamb, oh what a chore,
Brush strokes smooth, with care and precision,
Soon the wood will be shining like before,
Painting a door jamb, oh what a chore,
But the effort is worth it, that’s for sure,
To freshen up a home is a noble mission,
Painting a door jamb, oh what a chore,
Brush strokes smooth, with care and precision.

Then I second-guessed my use of the word “jamb.” Did I spell it right? Is that really the door jamb I have to paint today, or is it the door frame? We recently had the door replaced, so after my mini research, I determined that most of the frame needs to be painted. I went back to my FrIeNd? at Chat GPT with a new prompt: “Compose a triolet poem about painting a door frame”

Painting a door frame, a task at hand,
A fresh coat of color, a sight to behold,
The brush strokes glide, so smooth and grand,
Painting a door frame, a task at hand,
Transforming the space, as if it was planned,
A touch of beauty, a story untold,
Painting a door frame, a task at hand,
A fresh coat of color, a sight to behold.

Oh, my word! I thought maybe they would just replace jamb with frame. But no. It’s a whole new poem! Recently I read an eye-opening review of ChatGPT and the use in the classroom by a Slice of Life writer, Lee Ann Spillane at the Portable Teacher blog. There is a site called GPTZero that detects AI use. I added my fully-generated poem to the detector and got this message, “Your text is likely to be written entirely by a human.” OK, that was disconcerting.

Then I tried another idea Lee Ann had given. Add a prompt to ChatGPI: “How likely is it that ChatGPT wrote this poem?” and then cut and paste the poem. So I tried that and got a rather non-committal response:

It is highly likely that ChatGPT wrote this poem, as it is within the capabilities of the AI model to generate creative and original poetry. However, it is also possible that the same poem could have been generated by another language model or human author.

Hmmm…what would ChatGPT say if I asked that about a poem that I wrote all by myself? So, I tried that with the latest poem I wrote for yesterday’s Poetry Friday post:

Our Mourning Doves

This is the doublet of doves,

cooing and pursuing,

who wait for their eggs,

their purpose renewing,

and fly back to their nest

with hope and love brewing.

Oh, I’m heart-broken. Here was the response:

It is also highly likely that ChatGPT wrote this poem, as it is a simple and straightforward piece of verse that falls well within the capabilities of the AI model to generate. However, it is again possible that the same poem could have been created by another language model or human author.

Earlier I had also dared to click on the “Regenerate Response” button:

Painting a door frame, it’s quite a task,
Sandpaper and primer, to prep it right,
Brushing on paint, with steady hand, I bask,
Painting a door frame, it’s quite a task,
The finish will gleam, no need for a mask,
My efforts rewarded, with hues so bright,
Painting a door frame, it’s quite a task,
Sandpaper and primer, to prep it right.

I may be here tomorrow regenerating poems, up to my eyeballs in a poetical existential crisis.

On a positive note, I noticed the poems it created at our Open Write session were always rhyming. I tried to get it to write a poem without rhyming. I asked it to write a poem like Mary Oliver would, then to write in free verse, finally I just wrote “stop rhyming.”

OK. Thanks for that.

March 2 – Super Duck Baby

02/Mar/202316/Apr/2023 Denise Krebs5 Comments

“Let’s go thrifting,” my daughter said, when I asked her what she wanted to do yesterday on that cold and dreary, rainy/snowy day.

“Sounds good,” I said, as I pulled on my waterproof hiking boots.

At the first stop, we hit the jackpot–half price books and clothes were buy one, get one free. Those were the two things we were looking for for the baby. I pushed the stroller around and looked at all the colorful things with baby. Maria dug in and found some good deals. Then we joined the queue. When it was our turn, the sales clerk said, “Oh, it’s a duck baby!”

I looked around. Then my daughter and I both looked at her, with the expectation of “tell us more.”

Then she laughed, and said, “His downy hair! My kids had that too.”

“Oh,” we laughed too.

“Let’s go Super Duck Baby! Time for the next thrift shop!”

This is what our cold day left us yesterday. Now the sun is out, and the snow will melt. Hopefully, the carpenters and roofers will be able to come and finally be able to finish our porch, skylight and new roof. So the baby, Maria and I are off to more thrift stores in Palm Springs for warmer weather and to get away from the nails pounding.

I am participating in the March Slice of Life Challenge: A slice a day for all of March. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

A Slice of Life and the January Open Write

14/Feb/202317/Feb/2023 Denise Krebs6 Comments

Since April, 2020, I have been part of the poetry writing community at Ethical ELA–Open Write (five days monthly) and #Verselove (every April). That first April, while the world was in pandemic lockdown, a healing poetry community came together to write and support one another. This January, while I was traveling in Bahrain, jet-lagged and busy eating and visiting dear friends, I forgot about the five-day Open Write until the last day, when I wrote a quick “postcard” poem about Bahrain.

This week, I went back and had my own Open Write , writing one poem a day using the other prompts I missed last month. I’ve linked each prompt below, where you can hopefully find inspiration for your own writing, and maybe for your students too.

By the way, this Saturday, February 18, Open Write begins again at EthicalELA.com. Please join us. (I plan to not forget this time!)

Postcard Poetry with Barb Edler and Glenda Funk

Bahrain

You were
(still are) home.
Though I’ve left, you hold me
Again in your open arms.

Connecting with Strong Women Among Us with Glenda Funk

Her husband in prison
No tuition fees
Visas expired
No money for living
But for years
while they
survived,
she always said
Praise God,
God is great,
Thanks God,
Alhamdulillah.

Connecting with Your Inner Self with Barb Edler

I am proud of my humility
I am kinder than I sometimes act
I am confident yet uncertain
I am creative yet fruitless
I am resourceful yet unimaginative
I am savvy yet slow
I am adept yet inept
I am conflicted

Connecting with School Communities in the Aftermath of Shootings and Lockdowns with Glenda Funk

Visit Moms Demand Action. (It’s not just for moms.) After reading these poems by educators about shootings and lockdowns, I wrote to my Congressional representative about gun violence, and I signed up for the first time to volunteer with Moms Demand Action.

Her Voice

Every day as she got up,
Jamie G. called down the stairs
to her early-rising father.
Five years ago, on February 14, 2018,
she stopped calling,
silenced by a gunman
at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School.
She was just a freshman.
Today she could have been
in her second year as a Florida Gator,
but she forfeited her future
because of political cowardice.
Jamie’s voice,
frozen in time,
no new memories
for her and her family to create.

How many more voices will be lost
before we take action?

Some thoughts in the poem above came from Jamie’s father, Fred Guttenberg, and a quote from Mike Barnicle on last Friday’s (2/20) Morning Joe clip.

Here is a Skinny poem about The Nature of Today’s World by high school senior Cam Prescott.

Connecting with Others or Things Through a Personal Letter Poem with Barb Edler

Justice

It’s difficult to believe You will win,
that You will forever be
a refuge for the hopeless.
It’s hard to trust that Your goodness
will shine like the dawn,
that Your deliverance
will break through the doom
as bright as the noonday sun.

When will that happen?
How long must the oppressed wait?
Do I still believe in You?
Will I fight for You to break through the chaos?

So many people continue to soldier on for Justice.
(I’m ashamed I don’t seek you wholeheartedly)
Others prowl and scratch hoping Justice will be obscured.
(I don’t want to be part of that group.)

So I must commit to join You,
for silence is not a neutral position.
I do believe in Justice, but, please,
help my unbelief.