Tag Archives: Barbara Hamby

On Year 4: September’s Poems


Of course, the school year actually started in August–doesn’t it always?  So there’s a bonus poem.  I faced the usual resistance among some of the kids who have never been in my class before:  do we have to listen to every poem?  Yes, I told them–every blasted one.  That pretty much answers that question, came the …

Continue reading

On Year 3: September’s Poems


Not to mention two in August! Back to school, and back to a poem a day to my classes.  How many times does one have to do something before it becomes a habit?  This will be the third year for me–the third year since I took this one simple idea away from the Frost Place …

Continue reading

On the Second February’s Poems


Happy Leap Year!  Happy Leap Day! Happy February!  Happy Groundhog Day! Happy Valentine’s Day!  Happy winter vacation! I tried to fill this month with love poems, but wasn’t always successful.  However, I have to say that I got a surprising reaction to Pablo Neruda from the students–they loved him!  I think it has to do …

Continue reading

On a New School Year, and the Second September’s Poems


A hundred years ago, when I attended the Advanced Placement institute in St. Johnsbury, Vermont with two of my awesome teaching colleagues, the five-day workshop was presented by a man who talked quite a bit about poetry boot camp.  This was what he called the intensive however-long unit on poetry and analysis that he subjected …

Continue reading

On March’s Poems


This month is for Brenda and Becky, who remind me that March is Women’s History Month.  When asked what or whom I should read, Becky said:  How about women, strong, spunky, make-a-difference women.  Must be some poems about them.  Us. Hell, yeah.  How about poems by those women?  So I’ve been trolling through my books, …

Continue reading

On February’s Poems


For February, because it’s the month of Valentine’s Day, I went with love poems.  When I announced that, on the first, to the classes, they all groaned, because, cynical 17-year-olds that they are, to them love poems mean hearts and flowers and squishy-ness.  Fine!  Sometimes we all just need a good dose of hearts and …

Continue reading

On September’s Poems


When I came home from my week at the Frost Place back at the beginning of July, I started toying with one of the suggestions I’d heard there:  to start each class period by reading a poem.  That idea seemed somehow radical–most of my students didn’t like poetry; most of the ones who did only …

Continue reading