UCWP 2016-17 Invitational Residency Institutes: Anthology!
Saturday, January 7, 2017
Upper Cumberland Writing Project 2016-17 Invitational Residency Institutes: Anthology!
This online anthology collects texts written by participants in the Upper Cumberland Writing Project's Invitational Residency Institutes--two three-day workshops for residency candidates at Tennessee Tech University over the 2016-17 winter break (one Institute was conducted in December and one in January). Writers include Education students specializing in Early Childhood, Elementary, Middle School, Secondary English, ESL, Agriculture, and Music. Texts include poems, memoirs, obituaries, essays, recipes, and how-to guides. Enjoy!
For more information about the UCWP, visit this link: https://www.tntech.edu/cas/english/ucwp/.
Friday, January 6, 2017
Putting the Person First
by Victoria E.
We need to talk about the way we talk about people who have disabilities. I recently told someone that my becoming a special education teacher was not just to provide an education for students who have disabilities, but to also be a teacher to those who are drowning in stereotypes and misinformation.
First of all, the r-word (retard), forget it. It’s gone. It’s ugly. Please, stop using it. That word is a remnant of a time when people who had disabilities were disregarded, mistreated, neglected. We are done with that time. Let’s move on.
During my time in school, I’ve learned about something called Person First Language (PFL). Learning to speak in PFL is relatively simple. We don’t need to take a semester long course to learn pronunciation or buy an expensive computer program in order to learn it. In fact, all we have to do is create a habit. A habit that involves us putting the person we are talking about before their disability. I’ll give you an example. Instead of saying “the autistic kid,” we should say “the child who has autism,” and instead of “Johnny has Down’s,” we should say “Johnny is an active young man who loves to sing.” Here’s another example: “handicap parking” should be “accessible parking.” Do you see the difference? In the first phrases, we’re essentially taking an entire person and condensing them down to one trait, their disability. Well guess what… they are people, NOT a disability. Most of the time, mentioning that someone has a disability isn’t even necessary, especially if we are going to use that disability as an introduction.
I know some of us abhor anything that seems like it was created to avoid stepping on toes. This whole language change is not about being politically correct. It’s about treating the people in our communities with the same level of respect that we would expect someone to treat us with. That old Golden Rule we learned as children is coming back to haunt us. I’m sure that you would not enjoy someone always introducing you as the person who “has red hair” or “wears glasses.” You have a name; you are more than one trait. Keep that in mind when you are talking to and about people who have disabilities.
This habit is easy to pick up. Trust me. Once you begin to put people first, it will be as easy as breathing. You’ll find that it bothers you when you hear other people using language that isn’t person first. In that moment, perhaps you too will have the opportunity to become a teacher.
We need to talk about the way we talk about people who have disabilities. I recently told someone that my becoming a special education teacher was not just to provide an education for students who have disabilities, but to also be a teacher to those who are drowning in stereotypes and misinformation.
First of all, the r-word (retard), forget it. It’s gone. It’s ugly. Please, stop using it. That word is a remnant of a time when people who had disabilities were disregarded, mistreated, neglected. We are done with that time. Let’s move on.
During my time in school, I’ve learned about something called Person First Language (PFL). Learning to speak in PFL is relatively simple. We don’t need to take a semester long course to learn pronunciation or buy an expensive computer program in order to learn it. In fact, all we have to do is create a habit. A habit that involves us putting the person we are talking about before their disability. I’ll give you an example. Instead of saying “the autistic kid,” we should say “the child who has autism,” and instead of “Johnny has Down’s,” we should say “Johnny is an active young man who loves to sing.” Here’s another example: “handicap parking” should be “accessible parking.” Do you see the difference? In the first phrases, we’re essentially taking an entire person and condensing them down to one trait, their disability. Well guess what… they are people, NOT a disability. Most of the time, mentioning that someone has a disability isn’t even necessary, especially if we are going to use that disability as an introduction.
I know some of us abhor anything that seems like it was created to avoid stepping on toes. This whole language change is not about being politically correct. It’s about treating the people in our communities with the same level of respect that we would expect someone to treat us with. That old Golden Rule we learned as children is coming back to haunt us. I’m sure that you would not enjoy someone always introducing you as the person who “has red hair” or “wears glasses.” You have a name; you are more than one trait. Keep that in mind when you are talking to and about people who have disabilities.
This habit is easy to pick up. Trust me. Once you begin to put people first, it will be as easy as breathing. You’ll find that it bothers you when you hear other people using language that isn’t person first. In that moment, perhaps you too will have the opportunity to become a teacher.
Family Shenanigans
by Devan C.
It’s once again Thanksgiving in my favorite place to visit, Pikeville, Kentucky. Pikeville is this little town where my family’s history has left footprints in. My favorite memories start here in the “holler” where my Great Uncle Gary and my Great Aunt Violet have built a house, family, and memories. Now, I will tell you about one of my favorite memories.
We take the annual four hour anticipated drive for Thanksgiving weekend. We arrive at the dark, wood house on a gravel drive where there is smoke coming from the chimney from the fire my uncle is making inside. Shortly after, all of my cousins arrive soon after. It’s been a year since I have seen them so we have a lot of fun every year on this particular weekend. It’s now supper time and at the kitchen table you hear the sounds of Uncle Gary telling us funny jokes and stories and laughter coming from my many cousins and me. In the kitchen, you smell a delicious smell of homemade bread that Aunt Violet has made. I could never figure out when I was little why she always put the bread in the dryer. Everyone is waiting on Thanksgiving dinner, so my cousins and I decide to get in our four-wheelers and rhinos and ride up through the mountain behind their house where they own acres and acres. My cousin finds a grapevine to cut down and swing on to pass the time. My daredevil cousin is the first to go and of course falls flat on his back. It was no surprise to us, which is why he is our tester when we make possibly unsafe decisions. My cousin finds a safer grapevine to swing from. Every one of my cousins decides to try and I am the last one on and the shortest and oldest cousin might I add. Everyone landed perfectly on their feet like cats because their drop was not as big as mine because of the height difference. Therefore, I did not land on my feet and instead hopped on and swung back and forth and back and forth from each tree and couldn’t stop myself. I fell right off and landed not on my feet but on my back and rolled down the mountain until I stopped myself. We got back to the house and of course our parents weren’t happy that we returned and were covered in leaves and dirt and had the stench of outside smell. We washed up for supper and gathered around the table to pray.
You may think the story ends there, but every year there is always another fun, interesting memory to tell.
It’s once again Thanksgiving in my favorite place to visit, Pikeville, Kentucky. Pikeville is this little town where my family’s history has left footprints in. My favorite memories start here in the “holler” where my Great Uncle Gary and my Great Aunt Violet have built a house, family, and memories. Now, I will tell you about one of my favorite memories.
We take the annual four hour anticipated drive for Thanksgiving weekend. We arrive at the dark, wood house on a gravel drive where there is smoke coming from the chimney from the fire my uncle is making inside. Shortly after, all of my cousins arrive soon after. It’s been a year since I have seen them so we have a lot of fun every year on this particular weekend. It’s now supper time and at the kitchen table you hear the sounds of Uncle Gary telling us funny jokes and stories and laughter coming from my many cousins and me. In the kitchen, you smell a delicious smell of homemade bread that Aunt Violet has made. I could never figure out when I was little why she always put the bread in the dryer. Everyone is waiting on Thanksgiving dinner, so my cousins and I decide to get in our four-wheelers and rhinos and ride up through the mountain behind their house where they own acres and acres. My cousin finds a grapevine to cut down and swing on to pass the time. My daredevil cousin is the first to go and of course falls flat on his back. It was no surprise to us, which is why he is our tester when we make possibly unsafe decisions. My cousin finds a safer grapevine to swing from. Every one of my cousins decides to try and I am the last one on and the shortest and oldest cousin might I add. Everyone landed perfectly on their feet like cats because their drop was not as big as mine because of the height difference. Therefore, I did not land on my feet and instead hopped on and swung back and forth and back and forth from each tree and couldn’t stop myself. I fell right off and landed not on my feet but on my back and rolled down the mountain until I stopped myself. We got back to the house and of course our parents weren’t happy that we returned and were covered in leaves and dirt and had the stench of outside smell. We washed up for supper and gathered around the table to pray.
You may think the story ends there, but every year there is always another fun, interesting memory to tell.
On the Importance of Childhood Play
by Joseph D.
As a young boy living in an old Cape Cod with many brothers and no money, I spent a lot of time outdoors. I have many fond memories from my childhood, from stealing goose eggs to playing “push” on an old worn out trampoline. Like so many, my childhood memories fill me with nostalgia and warmth. My boyhood adventures have become so much more significant to me, however, now that I am an educator. I have discovered the importance that independent play had in forming my critical thinking and interpersonal skills. It is these skills that have allowed me to enjoy the success of living a fulfilled life and so it is these skills that I want to cultivate in my students.
My mother took no shame in locking my brothers and me out of the house for hours at a time, not allowing us re-entry for anything less than blood, with nothing but a “boys with brains” platitude as our guide. This required my brothers and I to develop relational skills as we navigated the tumultuous waters of deciding what games to play and what rules to break and who would take the blame if we got caught. Alliances were formed. Leaders were quickly established. Compromise was a necessary evil used to preserve the harmonious sanctity of our “free time.” In short, we were forced to form community. The lessons that I learned about how to function in a small society carried me through my first retail position, where at the age of 18 I became a key holder and manger. They helped me assimilate to the college classroom, my first institutionalized educational experience, having been raised in a homeschooling house till the end of my high school career. It is these interpersonal skills that I depend on to help assist my students in forming meaningful relationships that develop a positive learning environment in the classroom. It would be difficult to overstate the importance that my childhood played in assisting me with the formation of the interpersonal skills that have helped me become the educator that I always aspired to be.
Not only helping me form interpersonal skills, my childhood adventures helped me develop critical thinking skills. As I mentioned earlier, my family did not have an abundance of financial resources at our disposal. This forced my brothers and me to think creatively, finding new and exciting ways to play with the same rusty golf clubs we had possessed for years. We had to learn how to solve problems, for my mother would not unlock the door for any reason less than serious personal injury. Fixing issues ranging from broken scooters to broken friendships, the independence that I enjoyed as a young boy caused me to create strategies for solving problems. Trial and error were in constant employ; many strategies were abandoned, as failure was not an unpardonable sin, but a learning opportunity. I learned the value of assessment and reflection as I faced the challenge of outmaneuvering my brothers in make-believe combat situations. The key to victory lay in constantly learning and adapting guerilla warfare tactics to “snipe” your enemies and be the last man standing. I employ the same assessment and reflection techniques every day as I continually strive to improve as an educator.
All of the activities that I have described began from the time I was 10 years old and continued through my freshman year of high school. These formative years are crucial to the development of young minds. Vygotsky was correct when he postulated that children learn best through play. These years not only created invaluable life skills that have produced success and fulfilment in my life, they also helped set me on a path that has led to my dream career: high school English teacher. It was during these years that I became passionate about storytelling, learning, growing, and loving. It was during these years that I learned the value of community. It was during these years that I fell in love with the idea of dedicating my life to helping students. If these childhood memories were changed, if my boyhood adventures were replaced, so also would the success and fulfilment of my life be removed.
The implications of this realization are far reaching when I consider the subject of modern education. If the goal of education is to create mindless drones that obey the commands of a select and privileged few, then the truth aforementioned is meaningless. If the goal of education is to foster independent critical thinkers that function in a society, then the aforementioned truth takes on a much greater significance. Instruction should center around the instructed, that is the student, and not the instructor. Instruction should be used to develop and foster these crucial life skills, not fill students with myriad facts to be recalled on a single test. Giving students independence, allowing students to fail, and creating safe learning environments characterized by community must be prioritized above any content knowledge. In short, we must afford our students the opportunity to play in our classrooms. Teachers are not experts, filling empty vessels with endless amounts of facts. We are guides, providing our students with opportunities to explore, create, argue, defend, question, learn. If our students are not allowed to experience this kind of learning environment, then I am convinced that they may never grow into the successful and fulfilled individuals that educators are tasked with helping them become.
A ten-year-old boy taught me that.
As a young boy living in an old Cape Cod with many brothers and no money, I spent a lot of time outdoors. I have many fond memories from my childhood, from stealing goose eggs to playing “push” on an old worn out trampoline. Like so many, my childhood memories fill me with nostalgia and warmth. My boyhood adventures have become so much more significant to me, however, now that I am an educator. I have discovered the importance that independent play had in forming my critical thinking and interpersonal skills. It is these skills that have allowed me to enjoy the success of living a fulfilled life and so it is these skills that I want to cultivate in my students.
My mother took no shame in locking my brothers and me out of the house for hours at a time, not allowing us re-entry for anything less than blood, with nothing but a “boys with brains” platitude as our guide. This required my brothers and I to develop relational skills as we navigated the tumultuous waters of deciding what games to play and what rules to break and who would take the blame if we got caught. Alliances were formed. Leaders were quickly established. Compromise was a necessary evil used to preserve the harmonious sanctity of our “free time.” In short, we were forced to form community. The lessons that I learned about how to function in a small society carried me through my first retail position, where at the age of 18 I became a key holder and manger. They helped me assimilate to the college classroom, my first institutionalized educational experience, having been raised in a homeschooling house till the end of my high school career. It is these interpersonal skills that I depend on to help assist my students in forming meaningful relationships that develop a positive learning environment in the classroom. It would be difficult to overstate the importance that my childhood played in assisting me with the formation of the interpersonal skills that have helped me become the educator that I always aspired to be.
Not only helping me form interpersonal skills, my childhood adventures helped me develop critical thinking skills. As I mentioned earlier, my family did not have an abundance of financial resources at our disposal. This forced my brothers and me to think creatively, finding new and exciting ways to play with the same rusty golf clubs we had possessed for years. We had to learn how to solve problems, for my mother would not unlock the door for any reason less than serious personal injury. Fixing issues ranging from broken scooters to broken friendships, the independence that I enjoyed as a young boy caused me to create strategies for solving problems. Trial and error were in constant employ; many strategies were abandoned, as failure was not an unpardonable sin, but a learning opportunity. I learned the value of assessment and reflection as I faced the challenge of outmaneuvering my brothers in make-believe combat situations. The key to victory lay in constantly learning and adapting guerilla warfare tactics to “snipe” your enemies and be the last man standing. I employ the same assessment and reflection techniques every day as I continually strive to improve as an educator.
All of the activities that I have described began from the time I was 10 years old and continued through my freshman year of high school. These formative years are crucial to the development of young minds. Vygotsky was correct when he postulated that children learn best through play. These years not only created invaluable life skills that have produced success and fulfilment in my life, they also helped set me on a path that has led to my dream career: high school English teacher. It was during these years that I became passionate about storytelling, learning, growing, and loving. It was during these years that I learned the value of community. It was during these years that I fell in love with the idea of dedicating my life to helping students. If these childhood memories were changed, if my boyhood adventures were replaced, so also would the success and fulfilment of my life be removed.
The implications of this realization are far reaching when I consider the subject of modern education. If the goal of education is to create mindless drones that obey the commands of a select and privileged few, then the truth aforementioned is meaningless. If the goal of education is to foster independent critical thinkers that function in a society, then the aforementioned truth takes on a much greater significance. Instruction should center around the instructed, that is the student, and not the instructor. Instruction should be used to develop and foster these crucial life skills, not fill students with myriad facts to be recalled on a single test. Giving students independence, allowing students to fail, and creating safe learning environments characterized by community must be prioritized above any content knowledge. In short, we must afford our students the opportunity to play in our classrooms. Teachers are not experts, filling empty vessels with endless amounts of facts. We are guides, providing our students with opportunities to explore, create, argue, defend, question, learn. If our students are not allowed to experience this kind of learning environment, then I am convinced that they may never grow into the successful and fulfilled individuals that educators are tasked with helping them become.
A ten-year-old boy taught me that.
You Are Not the Driver
by Nikki G.
When I was 15 and naïve I mapped out my life. I
said I would graduate high school, go to college at the University of Alabama,
meet the man of my dreams, fall in love, get a ring by the spring of my senior
year, graduate, teach kindergarten and start a family by 28. Let’s all laugh
for a moment at the fact three out of eight things happened or will hopefully
be happening within a few short months. With reality in check, I am 4 months
away from graduating with an Early Childhood degree from Tennessee Tech, no
idea in the world what I am going to do if I don’t land a job after graduation
and here I am no boyfriend, not even a crush in mind. My life is dramatically
different than what my 15 year old self thought it would be like. At fifteen
and still at twenty-one I feel that a little bit of vulnerability can go a long
way, so here’s the words that have been trapped inside my heart for a while
now.
For the past month or so almost every day you
get on social media, whether it be Facebook, Instagram or Snapchat, and up pops
one engagement after the other and it seems like every person but you is
spending New Years with their significant other, posting pictures left and
right and just like all of the other years you are smacked in the face with the
reminder that you are single. To be honest that feeling is a harsh sting of
reality for some and just like some of you, I fall right dab in the middle of
it all and I am exhausted. I am drained, emotionally, physically and spiritually.
Over the last year I have been in a constant battle with the emotion of
loneliness because of my singleness, and as hard as I try to avoid it, this
feeling undeniably worsens around the holiday season. I'm exhausted with this
continuous feeling that being in a relationship is going to bring me the joy I
want, the happiness I am seeking daily and that it will bring me some sort of
satisfaction that I don't already have, when in reality I am a few months shy
of having made a life changing decision aka the best decision of my life. Two
years ago, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, my eyes had been
opened to the only person in this life that will ever satisfy me beyond my belief
and bring me the joy that I am seeking on a daily basis from the things of this
world. I cannot ask or expect any man to walk into my life and fill up these
“holes” that I have dug by being insecure and lonely, with attributes that only
God can. A topic that was constant with one of my roommates from this summer
was the topic of relationships and something she said over and over again
definitely stuck with me since the first time she said it laying in our cramped
hotel room at the River Lodge South. She brought up that I should be 100%
satisfied and content with God and His ultimate authority over my life before
even considering being in a relationship and I should never be content with
anything other than that. And if I am completely honest I am just not at that
point in my life, no matter how many times I try to convince myself and the
people around me that I am. I am fantasized with this idea of control and
manipulation of events leading to a relationship in my life. The past few
months I have been blinded by this struggle of maybe if I walk this way to
class, post this picture or share this article of who my "ideal and
perfect husband is" this guy or that guy will get the hint and finally
notice me. I have been living what I thought was an easy life but in reality
has created a lot of bitterness and turmoil in my heart because my eyes have
been closed to the truth. I’ve been living by the lie that I am in the driver
seat when ultimately I am the passenger. God is the driver, he is in complete
and utter control of the turns my life has taken and will take. He knows me, Nikki Gomez, in an intimate way, he cares for
me in a deep and personal way. When I wander from him, God seeks me, he has
welcomed me into his house. He cares about my future. He hasn’t abandoned me
and handed me the reigns of this life. He has said to me multiple times “Nikki,
stop holding on, let it go, you are not in control. I am.” With
much self-reflection, heart checks and prayer, God has laid it upon my heart to
make the commitment to surrender. Surrendering means to submit to authority. So
I am making the choice to surrender it all
to Jesus, laying all of it down at the altar. I am surrendering all of my future not just the things I
am okay with not being in control over. I commit to surrendering my entire
future, whether that be what to do after graduation career wise or, where to
live, or what county to work in or who my, God willing, husband will be. I know that I am not in control of any of it
no matter how I try to manipulate it, twist or turn it. My perfect, gracious
and loving Father has my life perfectly mapped out according to His plan and I
am so excited to finally stop working myself to death trying to find answers to
something my Father has already chosen. So here's to the year of letting go and
surrendering full heartedly to the God of my heart and the one that brings me
everlasting joy.
So you’re probably wondering why I just sat and
wrote this all out to a bunch of people that I have known for a total of three
days but it is because I want you to examine your heart, list out the things
that you are idolized and seeking joy in. My prayer to people who feel a
similar way, men and women, is that you do the same thing. Surrender. Allow God
to be the driver and take the passenger seat. I pray that you let go of the reigns.
That you let go of this timeline of your life that you have mapped out in your
brain. That you let go of the like that just because you haven’t achieved the
things you thought at 15 you would have done or been on your way to
accomplishing that you are a failure or that you are not good enough or not
worthy of it. I pray that you are reminded that the Lord is your shepherd, he
is not going to guide you where you do not belong because he has drawn out and
thought out your life perfectly. He cares for you deeply and loves you more
than any other man or woman ever could, would or will love you. Even when it
doesn’t make sense, follow him blindly, trust where he is taking you, because
he has every second, every hour, every day, every week, every month and every
year planned, just for you.
Life's Blessings
by Brooke C.
I love taking all of my worries to God in prayer
And discovering those worries are no longer there.
I love the peace that comes with prayer.
I love seeing the sparkle in my students’ eyes
That sparkle that shows excitement, interest, desire.
I love seeing learning in their eyes.
I love telling stories with only notes and no words
And listening as music soars with life like a bird.
I love when music needs no words.
I love the sweet family God has blessed me with
That loves me, supports me, and wants for me what is best.
I love the love they each come with.
I love the passion of life, the struggle, the mess.
I love the joy, the pleasure, the pure happiness.
I love this life with which I’ve been blessed.
I love taking all of my worries to God in prayer
And discovering those worries are no longer there.
I love the peace that comes with prayer.
I love seeing the sparkle in my students’ eyes
That sparkle that shows excitement, interest, desire.
I love seeing learning in their eyes.
I love telling stories with only notes and no words
And listening as music soars with life like a bird.
I love when music needs no words.
I love the sweet family God has blessed me with
That loves me, supports me, and wants for me what is best.
I love the love they each come with.
I love the passion of life, the struggle, the mess.
I love the joy, the pleasure, the pure happiness.
I love this life with which I’ve been blessed.
My Hometown
by Tiffany W.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love saying hello to friends I know.
I love seeing family and friends at Friday night football games.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love going for a Sunday drive up a winding river road and seeing my daddy’s old fishing hole.
I love knowing what area is best for digging big worms.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love that I can drive down the road and never see a red light.
I love that my kids can play outside without fear.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love knowing my neighbor is only one call away.
I love knowing my neighbor doesn’t have to live next door.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love summer nights, baseball fields, and kids laughing.
I love Tellico Plains, Tennessee and all the wonderful memories it holds.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love saying hello to friends I know.
I love seeing family and friends at Friday night football games.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love going for a Sunday drive up a winding river road and seeing my daddy’s old fishing hole.
I love knowing what area is best for digging big worms.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love that I can drive down the road and never see a red light.
I love that my kids can play outside without fear.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love knowing my neighbor is only one call away.
I love knowing my neighbor doesn’t have to live next door.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
I love summer nights, baseball fields, and kids laughing.
I love Tellico Plains, Tennessee and all the wonderful memories it holds.
Of all the things I love my hometown is one of my favorites.
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