Inspired to Teach

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Okay, so I've changed the blog's title 6 times this weekend. Had to have the "Inspired" in there, right? It's kind of my trademark (see other blogs, copyright me 2009, patent pending, etc. )

This is it, really it.

Oops, spelled inspired wrong...

and Oops, I think I just changed the blog address-- http://inspiredtobegin.blogspot.com/ and I promise I won't change anything else.

'cept maybe the color-- too pink? or could we call it salmon?

3 comments:

Bonnie said...: I liked Begin. [period] and the salmon is a little too "fleshy" colored for my taste. my, my, I'm a pain in the ass... i must be crabby because I may be unemployed soon ; ); January 26, 2009 at 12:31 PM
Mr. Nauton said...: don't say that word! if you don't say it, it won't happen, and if it doesn't happen to you maybe it will not happen to thousands of others, except the lousy ones that need to be replaced, and I won't have to say it either...; January 27, 2009 at 10:40 AM
Bonnie said...: thank you for knocking some sense into me (I didn't say it, I just typed it, and I'll never mention it again) And I can't believe I critiqued your flesh-colored blog....just ignore me, your blogs are fantastic ...; January 27, 2009 at 12:45 PM

Praise Song for the Day

Elizabeth Alexander

Inauguration Poem 2009

Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other,
catching each other’s eyes or not,
about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din,
each one of our ancestors
on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem,
darning a hole in a uniform,
patching a tire, repairing
the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music
somewhere, with a pair of
wooden spoons on an oil drum,
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son
wait for the bus.
A farmer considers
the changing sky.
A teacher says,
Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words,
words spiny or smooth,
whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads
and highways that mark the will
of some one and then others,
who said I need to see
what’s on the other side.

I know there’s something better down the road.
We need to find a place
where we are safe.
We walk into that
which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks,
raised the bridges,

picked the cotton and the lettuce,
built brick by brick
the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean
and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle,
praise song for the day.
Praise song for every
hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor
as thyself, others by
irst do no harm or take no more
than you need.
What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital,
filial, national,
love that casts a widening
pool of light,
love with no need
to pre-empt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle,
this winter air,
any thing can be made,
any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim,
on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward
in that light.

I know it's probably copyright infringement, and I promise I'll teach my students to never, ever plagiarize, but these are awesome words-- probably just the weight and emotions of the day, but didn't you feel she was speaking directly to you?

Mandated Disclaimer:

“The views expressed on this site do not reflect the views of the San Diego Unified (or any) School District. This site contains user-created content which is not endorsed by the District. The purpose of this site is”…(then specify the purpose).

The (multiple, related, connected) purpose(s) is to learn, share, discuss, collect, reflect, whine, practice, read, watch, organize, test, adapt, refine, laugh, listen, and yes, show off sometimes, anything and everything about my career and life as an Educator.