Photo by curlywurlygurly
There is a photo of me fishing with my grandpa,
standing by the water, throwing the rod,
cows eating grass behind us.
There is a photo of me talking to him,
surrounded by my family, smiling,
pictures of past generations on the wall.
There is a photo of me visiting him in the hospital.
He wanted to be in his own bed.
There is not a photo of me saying goodbye to him,
Grandpa lying on a bed,
eyes closed,
trying to sing an old song.
By Ramiro, 12th grade
Happy boy at the beach (Photo credit: alobos flickr)
Where is the boy I used to be?
Is he still in my heart?
Is he living in my memory?
Is he where I used to be?
Is he happy?
Is he playing with friends?
Is he here or is he there?
I think the boy is with me.
I wish he didn’t grow up so fast.
When he smiles, he brings out
happiness in everyone.
We must never let anyone take away
this happiness.
by Alfredo, 10th grade
Click the link (above) to listen to the poem read on KPFT radio by Parker Tagtmeier, a 4th grader from Parker Elementary in Houston.
This poem is featured as part of the 2012 A Poem A Day campaign, a National Poetry Month celebration by Writers in the Schools (WITS) that features a different poem by a WITS student every day during April. Click here to learn more.
"Cosmic Flower" by Takashi Murakami
I want to give you flowers so that you are happy.
I want you to feel my heart.
I would like to give you toys.
Some sun to keep you warm.
A star so you can sleep calmly and with love.
I would especially like to give you my heart.
By Jocelyn, 1st grade
Image by Deanna Design via Flickr
I am just sitting here on the slide
watching the clouds pass by,
thinking of you. I miss your vibrant
colored shoes. I miss how your elegant
voice said to me, “I love you.”
I miss your brown glossy eyes. I miss
your loose bangs. I miss how you kept me
from danger. I miss how you looked at me
whenever you were mad. You were always
taller than me, like mom and dad.
You are like a dress in a one-of-a-kind store.
If you were here, I would be much happier.
by Sabrina, 3rd grade
WITS remembers Alice Hoffman, a gifted writer and a wonderfully generous young woman who passed away in the spring. Below we have posted a poem she wrote 3 years ago in the WITS program. Rest in peace, Alice, rest in peace.
For another WITS story about Alice, click here.
September 2011 is National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. To raise awareness, Texas Children’s Cancer and Hematology Centers (TCCHC) sponsors an extraordinary event called Making a Mark, the annual art exhibit presented by The Periwinkle Foundation.
The Periwinkle Foundation, which reaches more than 4,000 children every year, provides programs for children, young people, and their families who are challenged by cancer and other life-threatening illnesses. It operates Camp Periwinkle, Camp YOLO, Family Camp, and the Long Term Survivor Program. It also supports the Arts & Creative Writing Program at the hospital, which culminates each year in Making a Mark. Writers in the Schools (WITS) is honored to partner with The Periwinkle Foundation and offer creative writing workshops in the clinic every week.
Every September I look forward to Making A Mark, which features art and creative writing by patients and their siblings. The poems, stories, and visual art make a powerful statement about the healing that the arts can bring to patients and their families affected by cancer and blood disorders. In addition to the framed artwork, there are copies available of The Splendid Review, a publication of creative writing by patients and siblings who worked during the year with a WITS writer.
One aspect I particularly love is the collaborative piece that a professional guest artist, Periwinkle volunteers, and the children create together. Come out and meet Guest Artist Ann Johnson and see the amazing Friendship Fence that she and the children have created. You are invited to Texas Children’s Cancer Center’s Making a Mark® art exhibition on Sunday, September 11, 2011, from 2-4 pm on the Auxiliary Bridge between Texas Children’s Hospital Clinical Care Center and West Tower. Complimentary valet parking will be provided at the Clinical Care Center and the reception is open to the public.
A panel of judges selected blue ribbon pieces of art in three groups they felt most effectively represented Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Past exhibits have been shown in Japan, Washington, D.C., Virginia, North Carolina, and numerous cities throughout the state of Texas. Don’t miss your chance to see this year’s inspirational exhibit presented by The Periwinkle Foundation.
I’m at home. The sun shines brightly in my face. I sit on the back porch by the Sports section of the newspaper which is only saved from blowing away by two scuffed-up, supposed-to-be church shoes. I lean on a box of shoe cleaning materials and wait for my mom to come outside with the shoe polish. I can smell the shoe polish as soon as she comes outside, especially when I open the box.
My grandpa comes out of the house wearing overalls, a crisp checkered shirt, and holding his cane like it is the only thing between the world he knows and his world to come. He sits down on one of the chairs in the patio set and tells me about how he used the shoebox often when he was my age. Every time the wind blows I receive a whiff of Irish Spring soap.
Two days later my grandpa is in the hospital. My family sits down to figure out what to give him just in case he “lets go of the cane.” We finally decide on his favorite dessert—vanilla pound cake. We bake and put our hearts into it. We send it to him in the hospital. The next day we receive a thank you card written by my grandfather’s attending nurse who had to write it for him. He only manages to scrawl a quick signature and an “I U” sign. Five days later my grandpa let go of his cane.
By Jonothon, 7th grade
Photob by anneh632 via Flickr
I’m sorry
I was never too nice to you
Running after you in the hall
Stomping my foot to scare you
It never occurred to me that someday
your time would run out
And now you’re gone
I thought it was okay
Since you hissed at me
And I would make it up to you
Or at least I thought I could
I was going to make it up to you
The day we put you to sleep
There wasn’t a shudder
Not a blink
When you passed
Just the vet,
who said
“She’s gone.”
Two words
That brought on tears
And it seemed
It was those words
That stopped your sides moving
That made your beautiful fur seem dull.
And you were gone
And you weren’t there
And there was no time to make it up
And I’d never see you again
No gray fur
Flashing down the hall
No green eyes
Liquid pools of beauty
Staring at me from the couch
Gone
It didn’t set in
Until I got home
And then I cried
And I missed you
So much
And I hated myself
And now you’re gone
And I never made it up to you
and I’m sorry
By Morgan, 4th grade
Drawing by pigpogm via Flickr
My memory is when I moved to Texas from England. I remember that we were in the airport and my mom, dad, and my
sister started crying because they didn’t want to leave. They were all older than me and had more to say goodbye to than me. We moved because my dad got a job in Houston. In 2003 we moved, I do like it here, but I really loved England because that’s where I was born. I could smell my house even when we were in the airport. My memory is important because it is one of the most important things that has happened to me in my life. It’s a milestone in my life.
By Laura, 3rd grade
Photo by pauline tai via Flickr
Photo by Reurinkjan via Flickr
Well, here I am drunk in my thoughts .
I’ve been searching for you far and near.
Remembering the times you enchanted my mind with stories of your mountains, ranch, beasts, and breathing free air.
I’ve come to the ranch seeking council and comfort reviewing intimate events in my life.
Here I stand remembering your stories, living, drinking, and breathing the free air.
As I stand my ground firmly on the mountain, it whispers to me “Where is your Abuelo? Is he near?”
All I can do is shed a tear and whisper back, “He’s sleeping and he’s found an eternal peace.”
Since your timid good-bye you left me lost and searching for an idol. Since then I don’t know the meaning of peace.
I seek it now in a young woman named Vickie; she’s accepted me in her life, and she’s taking good care of me.
Do you know I’ve found true happiness in this young woman? Do you realize I’m starting my life?
Abuelo, do you feel me? Do you watch over me? Do you hear when I pray for you?
Do you realize I’ll keep asking these questions until the day I meet up with you?
I hope you know I still miss you, and I’m still recovering from your loss.
Have you taken a look at the family lately; the struggle goes on and on.
Look over the ranch and mountains, Abuelo, for they will forever mourn their king’s loss.
Remember this nieto in your prayers, Abuelo, he loves you and keeps you in his heart.
By Chris, 12th Grade
Li Cunxin’s remarkable autobiography, Mao’s Last Dancer, made its U.S. debut at River Oaks Landmark Theatre last Friday, receiving impressive reviews from movie critics and fans. Li achieves his rise to stardom as an aspiring young dancer from Beijing who earns a scholarship to perform at the Houston Ballet despite opposition from Chinese government. He overcomes his obstacles with fierce determination and later serves as the Houston Ballet’s Principal Dancer from 1981 – 1995.
WITS was honored to have Li share his captivating story about family, loss, and the journey of living the American Dream to everyone who attended the WITS 25th Anniversary Celebration last November. It is likely the film, based on his best-selling book, will teach audiences here and abroad about the powerful experience of telling one’s personal story.
Read the Houston Chronicle’s complete review here.
WITS invites you to A Celebration of Story, Thursday, November 4, 2010, 7PM at the Junior League of Houston. This momentous occasion will highlight the personal stories of young writers of WITS and guest speaker Jeanette Walls, best-selling author of The Glass Castle. Individual tickets start at $250 and table sponsorships start at $2500. You can make a secure purchase online by following this link. Don’t miss what is sure to be a sold-out event!
[Photo by Fort Photo via Flickr]
I walked out my door
to the pond and made
ripples in the water
Velvet swallows cried
out the pain I felt
My brother’s whisper
was still with me
Wind whirled around me
and my sigh was quiet
I thought I’d be going
to heaven that moment
to be with my brother
But instead it snowed and I
closed my eyes and walked
back toward the door sadly.
By Jessica, 3rd grade
In the night ghosts tangle in my hair. In the night my truck leaves my family. In the night a wizard comes and takes me away. In the night I conquer sin. In the night the night becomes wind. In the night I fight with monsters. In the night I beat a monster and that monster runs away. In the night I sneeze and say guzuntite. In the night I get bracelets.
by Stephanie, 3rd grade
[photograph by rcameraw via flickr]
To
be
me
okay
come
go
out
stop
in
don’t
go
out
boy
girl
men
women
flower
rose
dirt
deaf
bye
go
and
don’t
come
back
By Angela, 7th grade
[photo by bad music laine via flickr]
Writers in the Schools (WITS) Board Treasurer Karen Owen passed away on May 1st, 2009. Karen joined the WITS Board in 2006 and was beloved by both board and staff. The WITS Board plans to create a scholarship fund in her honor.
~
Houston Chronicle Obituary for Karen Owen
By Ericka Mellon
Karen Owen, the leader of the Houston school districts alternative
training program for aspiring teachers, died Friday. She was 57.
Owen began her career in the Houston Independent School District in
1983 as a teacher and then became dean of instruction at Westbury High
School, where her father, Kenneth Gupton, previously served as
principal.
Owen later turned her attention to training teachers and was tapped to
run HISDs alternative certification program, which trains
college-educated professionals from other fields to be teachers.
The program, the oldest in Texas, enrolls several hundred people a
year, helping the school district fill a void, particularly for math,
science and bilingual teachers.
She realized that we have such a high demand in the district for
teachers, and she saw the resource out in the community and in the
business world, said Sharon Koonce, HISD’s assistant superintendent of
professional and leadership development.
She realized she could change the experience that kids were having by
recruiting those people and then getting them into the classroom well
prepared, Koonce added. There’s hardly a school in the district that
has not hired somebody at some point that has come through alternative
certification.
In 2007, Owen launched a similar alternative certification program for
principals, making HISD the first school district in the state to have
such a program.
Owens mother, Rosa Kathryn Gupton, also was a teacher, at the
University of Houston. The daughter of educators, Owen emphasized the
importance of lifelong learning with her own children, Jennifer
Owen-White, 29, of Rockport, and Kristen Owen, 24, of Wyoming.
She loved reading and loved learning, and that’s what she taught us,
Owen-White said.
The sisters recall their mom staying up late and waking up early to
read — educational texts, mysteries, adventures books. She also enjoyed
the outdoors, taking her children camping and traveling to national
parks with her husband, Paul David Owen, who works for HISD’s
maintenance department.
We weren’t really the family that went to Disney World, Owen-White
said. We were the family that had educational vacations.
Owen earned a bachelors degree in English and math from Texas Tech
University and two masters degrees from the University of Houston, one
in philosophy and the other in education.
Our mom taught us to be strong, independent, intelligent women,
Owen-White said, but also to be kind and giving and loving.
Owen died after complications from surgery. In lieu of flowers, the
family asks that donations be made to the Houston nonprofit Writers in the Schools.
