In the first two quarters, my class and I spent the first ten minutes of every class reading a book that was not assigned for class. The goal was to encourage reading outside of class, bring down higher energy levels after gym classes and get our minds focused on the tasks at hand. For the next two quarters, this practice has been replaced by ten minutes of writing. This practice will bring down energy levels and set our minds to task, but it is also an opportunity to experiment with our creative sides. Students are free to write about anything they want or interpret the prompt in any medium they wish – the prompts are only for those who need inspiration.
I write the same prompts with my students in all three of the classes we practice this activity – teachers should always be willing to do what they ask of students. Below are the prompts from this past week and my favorite of the three responses I wrote with my classes. All prompts were written by myself.
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Monday 14 February
Love.
Her socks are too loose on her feet, but I can still see all of the twists of her infamously tangled toes, compressed by years of wearing hard shoes in church. I pull the blanket down to over them. Eyes still closed, Granny smiles. Her face has far too few wrinkles for 89, but as she smiles, a million laughs become visible, each one remembered in the milk creases near her eyes and grin. Her hand is cold and bony and feels so out of place attached to her warmth. She squeezes gently, eyes blinking open, pulled from a crystalline memory recalled for the last time back to the present. Granny’s eyes are wight white, as if the cataracts webbing over were physical evidence of angelic possession. We held hands for a long time.
Her last words to me were about love. “When you find the right person, whoever it is, love them with all your being.” I promise I will.
***
Tuesday 15 February
Write a stream-of-consciousness description (for example, all the details and thoughts associated with going to the market/supermarket).
Three, no, four scoops of dry floral dusty coffee grounds, the smell is earthy and sincere, coffee pot is crystal cold to the touch, lingering warmth produces slight condensation wiped away as water pours back into back of machine – don’t spill don’t spill don’t spill – its so black that I can’t see where the water line is but the now-room temperature pot is empty so its ready, salvation is upon us, that scratchy gurgle of suction and steam, the hot plate heats, aroma erupts, oil is struck.
***
Wednesday 16 February
Have you ever forgotten something important? Describe the thing you forgot and how you reacted.
The last summer before college. We were younger then, old enough to start feeling grit and seeing sharpness, but new enough to only grasp those details emotionally, not intellectually or spiritually. We slept, or didn’t, on the beaches every night; bonfires became our night lights and sunrises our alarm clocks, blinking awake before our first part-time shifts. We sped around neighborhoods in our first cars. We ransacked our parent’s liquor cabinets. We were free.
On the last day of summer, I said goodbye to the beach – the one near the salt-warped church, with that wooden access ramp that was ripped away by the hurricane three years ago – with a baptism. I waded into the mirror of the morning ocean, the waves tidal and loving, and felt a new lightness on my hand. My class ring, gaudy and fat with a big purple rock, slipped off. I could see the last shape of it as it fell below the eternal cloud of sediment.
The ring itself was tacky and cumbersome. Machine-stamped symbols for our graduation year and alma mater were fading from the first wear, the cheap silver paint brushing off before it left the box it came in. The stone – amethyst? Those are purple, right? – was oversized and “masculine” in the way that all impractically large things are masculine. But the ring fit well, and the real value was in what it represented, the years of illegally underaged labor and the late school nights spent studying after a shift and escape and independence, all of which felt so important that summer.
When it fell off, I didn’t react. Some small voice whispered that I wanted to lose that ring. That same small voice had told me that I could survive, that I was strong enough to leave my drowning city and discover More, so I trusted what it had to say. I remember peace, the peace of a complex machine working without mistakes, the peace at the end of a symphonic performance before anyone starts clapping, a pregnant sort of peace.
After I stopped feeling and started thinking, and then after I started searching and eventually stopped that too, the peace returned. Somewhere near the whale bones and Spanish galleons a silly ring glinted violet in the god rays of the depths. It’s still there.
I left after the sunrise.
***
Thursday 17 February
Should shoes be taken off or left on when entering someone’s home? Justify your position.
In a perfect world, nobody would enter a building while wearing shoes. There are few things more disrespectful than wearing shoes inside of a home when the owner has an issue with shoes. Taking off shoes is a sign of trust that the floor is clean and safe enough to walk on barefoot, and a sign of respect that the efforts of the habitant to maintain their space has not gone unnoticed. The other point to consider is that cultural norms should always be respected; in many Asian households, taking shoes off is so automatic that nobody even stops to question the practice, while in many parts of Africa and Latin America, wearing shoes indoors is a safety consideration. Deference should always be given to the habitants of the household.
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Friday 18 February
How have your goals changed in the past six months? Are there new opportunities you didn’t realize you could pursue? How does it feel to change your goals?
In the past six months – since August, I suppose – my goals have been directed inwards. I have become more focused on developing healthy habits, like exercising, doing yoga and eating regularly. I’ve also realized that the goals I’m the most enthusiastic about are the ones that directly nurture a calm, steady demeanor and bring peace. I’m not trying to shake anything up. I seek balance.
In many ways, I’ve found that “living in the present” has lowered the temperature with which I pursue my goals. I love the world around me now, and I feel like sustainability, not revolution or upheaval, is more important than it used to be for me. But who knows if I’ll say the same thing in six months?
certification 
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