Badgerblog

On Tuesday night, BookPeople hosted a reading with celebrated author and former first lady of Houston, Andrea White.

Thanks to White’s incredible generosity, and that of her good friend Glenys Wolff, Badgerdog’s students from Ojeda Middle School and Martin Middle School attended, and all of our writers received a copy of her newest book, Windows on the World.

White began the reading with an intriguing question. Because her books are sci-hi (a mix of science fiction and history), she wanted to know whether the young people in the crowd thought the future would be better or worse.  Their answers were intelligent, empathetic, and revealing. For every hopeful answer, like “We’re going through a hurt time right now, but we made it through the dark ages,” there was another with a darker outlook, as they talked about greed and the grief of tragedies and wrongdoings we carry with us into the future.

During the reading, White took questions from the packed crowd. When asked whether she writes her own life into her books, White talked about the bravery of one of the main characters of Windows on the World, Shama.  White said she made her character brave because she wants to be braver in her own life. When another young writer asked, “What is the best way to write a good, healthy book?” White answered, “Find something you love.  Then build what you love around the image of the story in your head.”

After the reading and Q&A, I chatted with our Ojeda writers about what it was like to meet an author. They were excited and told me why: “You got to ask her what was going on in her head!” And there was another, different kind of highlight as well—White was nice enough to sign the jeans of one of our writers!

I had the opportunity to talk with the author about why it was so important for her to be with her readers—she’s visited over two hundred schools! She said she wanted kids “to see writing less as a commodity and more as a means of expression” and explained how important it is to hook kids into reading and show the human being behind the name on the cover of the book. “I love writing, but sharing my books with kids is even more fun.”

Jess Wigent
Education Programs Coordinator

My singular—and very selfish—gripe about our summer creative writing workshops is that they were not a part of my childhood. I may have attended every camp under the sun—a theater camp, where, to my horror, I sang “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair” as an audition piece in front of a hundred unknown teenagers (I cannot sing); a “self-enrichment” camp where we were invited to divulge our deepest, darkest secrets (I had to make some up) and endure outlandish rope-course challenges; a wildlife camp where you could join a club whose sole criteria for admission was the feat of kissing a banana slug (I did not join).  My mother viewed summer camp as a means of personal peace (for her) and insurance for me—I’d likely learn something new, make at least one new friend, and was unlikely to get into serious trouble.

But what if—what if!—there had been a creative writing camp where the adventures had been of my own making, where the challenges were not made of ropes but of words, where each day I discovered a new page in the history of literature, where I began to truly understand the meaning of metaphor and the power of imagery, where I could learn that poems aren’t just things that rhyme, but things that become what you ask them to be? I think, at the very least, I would have been a happier camper (if you’ll forgive the awful pun).

Each summer, as our programs begin on inviting campuses like the Girls’ School of Austin, the Austin Waldorf School, and the Griffin School, I feel—I’ll admit—just a dash of envy. Each of the young writers who join us begin their days in a classroom, but by the time they leave for the day, they have envisioned night skies decorated with lights, they have traveled to places no one can find on the map, and they have transformed memory into language that lends those experiences shape and power. They are learning from some of Austin’s finest writers—writers who believe it’s their responsibility to not only create great work, but to share their passion with a younger generation.

Each summer campus feels like its own writers’ retreat, an insular and idyllic space where ideas are borne and made into works of art.

Each year, we ask parents to share their impressions of our summer workshops. Certainly, we receive constructive comments that help us improve and tweak our programs, but I also discover—through my own selfish, wistful summer-camp lens—what I missed out on in my continental tour of summer camps.

The parent of a writer from McCallum High School wrote:

“Badgerdog is an oasis where my daughter comes and feels great about herself, confident, and encouraged by instructors.”

Another parent of a McNeil High School writer said this:

“My daughter’s self-confidence in writing carried over to all aspects.”

The parent of a writer from Cedars Montessori School, shared this:

“The first day, they came home and said, ‘I wish it went all day.’ They love writing even more.”

And the parent of a student from the Liberal Arts and Sciences Academy had this to say:

Badgerdog summer camp “continues to spark renewed passion and ideas and fosters my daughter’s love for the art and activity of writing. The camp always takes her to the next level.”

In large part, I attribute these positive responses to the talent and genuine enthusiasm of our instructors. As writers themselves, they understand the difficulty of writing, while also understanding its rewards and its importance. They know that constant correction and the goal of technical perfection make writing feel impossible and unkind, and so they provide their students with the joy of writing, the exaltation of that creative moment, and the deserved applause that should always come at the end of a great sentence or story, after the writer has put down the pen and brought his work for others to enjoy.

Cecily Sailer
Education Programs Manager

This spring, Badgerdog joins more than thirty community partners across Austin in an exploration of human dignity and courage. As part of Ballet Austin’s Light / The Holocaust & Humanity Project, Badgerdog teaching artists are sharing with their students texts that bear witness to civil conflict and oppression. Inspired by these poems and stories, writers of all ages will create their own work in response. Through this creative process, students share words of hope, concern, and remembrance. Next month, on March 11, students from each of our schools and community workshops will share their poetry on stage at Ballet Austin in a reading titled, “In Front of Strangers I Sing.” This past week, Badgerdog teaching artist Alexis Almeida invited her students at Baty Elementary School to join the conversation. Here, she recounts the experience.

Generally speaking, blues music is as hard to define as it is easy to recognize. To some, the key to the blues is in its tonality—the minor-sounding “blues notes” bending their way through an otherwise major pentatonic scale. To others, it is best defined by the feel of the songs—the slow, weary tempo of certain songs that evoke a kind of yearning, a drawn-out sense of struggle, and the joyous, playful swagger of other songs that make you want to dance and stomp and sing. To others still, the key is in the lyrics, the melancholic, raspy croon of singers like Billie Holiday and Bessie Smith, the infectious lilt of Charley Patton’s words as he strums his guitar and winds his way through story after story in his signature gravelly voice.

To me, it has always been about an ill-fated search for home. As Robert Johnson expresses in “Dust My Broom”: I believe, I believe I go back home/Oh, I believe, I believe, I go back home/You can mistreat me here, babe, but you can’t when I go home. The question of where this home is—whether or not it actually exists—is perhaps one constant source of the music we call the blues, a question so distinctly American with roots so distinctly elsewhere it would be impossible to resolve easily or ever, however much heart goes into the trying.

Last week, as a means of discussing human rights for Badgerdog’s part in Ballet Austin’s Light / Holocaust & Humanity Project, I explored the roots and evolution of blues music with my students at Baty Elementary School. After a brief discussion of slavery, the civil war, and the civil rights movement that burgeoned as their heir, we talked about how the amped-up, electric guitar-heavy blues music we so often hear on the radio and in commercials and film soundtracks actually grew out of spirituals, work songs, and holler cadences heard on cotton plantations during slavery in the deep south.

Primed with this bit of history, we looked more closely at the lyrics of “Trouble So Hard,” a spiritual sung by Dock Reed, Henry Reed, and Vera Hall. We also heard Charley Patton’s “Mean Black Cat Blues,” taking note of the longing and emotive inflections found in both songs, as well as the more formal aspects of the A-A-B form the lyrics seemed to follow. We guessed at the lyrics before looking at a typed-up version. We talked about times we had witnessed acts of injustice. We wondered at the idea that music is a vessel for healing, wondered at our connection to songs that spoke of things so remote and unthinkable but at the same time made us feel things so familiar and near.

When I asked students to write their own blues lyrics, the results were utterly humbling. Using the A-A-B blues form as a guide, some wrote lyrics they chose to read aloud, like Rayla, who wrote a piece about her fickle relationship with Jell-O: She likes Jell-O/ Oh, she likes yellow Jell-O/ But then one day she felt it was too mellow, while others, like Jeremiah, chose to turn their lyrics into a rap: I was born in San Antonio/ Oh, I was born in San Antonio/ That’s why I turn up my stereo… The leaps we managed to take between our discussion of slavery and the birthplace of the blues, whether it was West Africa or the cotton plantations of the Mississippi Delta, did not seem, by the end of class, like leaps at all.

If the blues are as hard to define as they are easy to feel, I’d like to think that with our words we entered into dialogue with a tradition not so much siphoned off by history, but rather built on the mysterious interplay between resistance and release. And I hope these “blues poems” continue to evolve and resonate each time they are read and retold, continue to find new ways of putting personal and shared struggles to music. Perhaps Lindy’s poem “Tell Your Song” best sums it up: Let your feelings tell your song/ Don’t let anyone tell you how it goes.

Alexis Almeida
Badgerdog Workshop Instructor

At the Central Texas Afterschool Network Conference held at Travis High School on Saturday, February 18, Badgerdog joined out-of-school-time providers from across the area to discuss how to provide the best programs for our students. The keynote speaker, Dr. Debbie Silver, reminded us that the greatest gift we can give our students is our attention. With her Molly Ivins-like humor, Dr. Silver had us rolling in the aisles as she told stories of her experiences as a student and teacher. But while we laughed, we all understood the seriousness of her refrain: we must not focus solely on how smart our students are, but how they are smart.

In sessions throughout the day, we discussed how classroom management “is not just about the rules” and how we can be more contemplative teachers.  We also talked about incorporating arts activities to support a STEM curriculum. As a literary arts nonprofit, Badgerdog is a dedicated supporter and practitioner of STEAM learning.  It was wonderful to see how the creative activities engaged and excited our colleagues from other programs.

The conference was excellent, and CTAN is an organization we are proud to be a member of.

If you’re unfamiliar with research on the importance of out-of-school programming, here’s a quick overview:

In his book, Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell talks about the “achievement gap” in education.  According to the research he cites, during in-school time, disadvantaged students actually “out-learn” or are on pace with their peers.  According to Gladwell, the lower test scores and graduation rates of disadvantaged students can be attributed to financial constraints: they have fewer opportunities to continue learning outside of school, and they fall behind.  At Badgerdog, we take the creative education of our students seriously; and one of our most important goals is to close the achievement gap for disadvantaged students.  We offer afterschool programs in Austin, Del Valle, and Manor, which provide safe havens for discovery, self-expression, and critical thinking through creative writing.  We also provide scholarships for our Creative Writing Summer Camp and Spring Break Camp, but we need your help.  If you’d like to ensure more students have the opportunity to be heard, to have the attention they  deserve, and to continue their learning, contact Sasha West at sasha.west(at)badgerdog.org or (512) 538-1305, ext. 101.

Dana De Greff

Dana De Greff teaches all kinds of creative writing workshops for Badgerdog: workshops on character for homeschooled students, year-long bilingual workshops at J. J. Pickle Elementary and Winn Elementary, and three-week workshops for Badgerdog’s Creative Writing Summer Camp. She’s also an award-winning writer. Her story “The Butcher’s Hands” recently won second place in the Austin Chronicle Short Story Contest. We wanted to talk with Dana because we’re so excited about what she’s working on, but also so that you can get a feel for the kinds of instructors who teach for Badgerdog.

How did this story come about? What made you want to write it?

I’m not sure anymore how “The Butcher’s Hands” came about, because I have drawn ideas from so many places—my time spent in Spain, my fascination with butchery and food, the Spanish Civil War, human connection in general…

The story’s setting, the important textures of the Spanish language, can you talk about why this part of Spain’s history interests you?

I spent a year in Spain after graduating from Florida State, and the people I met, the food I ate, the places I saw, will always stay with me. The fact that the dictatorship of Franco is still a fresh wound is fascinating. They have come so far as a country, and yet still have so much boiling underneath the surface in terms of issues with the old generation versus the new generation, immigration, racism, etc. Galicia especially is such a gorgeous and melancholy place. Because it is always raining, it is covered in this beautiful green moss, lots of lush plants and trees … but it’s always raining!

What was it like, to find out live, in front of a crowd at BookPeople, that you had won second place in the Chronicle Short Story Contest?

Extremely nerve-wracking. It felt like how I imagine it feels to be at the Oscars. I have never been in a situation like that before, and I was extremely honored and happy when I heard my name.

How has reading been important to your writing?

My whole family loves to read, so it’s something that has always been normal for me. When I was a kid, we didn’t have cable TV, so I would either read a book, watch an old movie of my mom’s, or play outside with my brother. Reading was a way to travel and to keep myself entertained, and as I became older, it also served as motivation and inspiration for my own writing.

Can you talk about why, as a writer, you care about teaching? How does it affect your writing or how you approach writing?

I think the approach that Badgerdog takes—the reading, writing, sharing approach—is so important. Reading, of course, is necessary, whether you like creative writing or not. I think for so many kids, writing is a way for their voices to be heard. And when they share out loud, they are making it real; they are validating themselves as artists. I never had a program like Badgerdog when I was a kid, but I was lucky enough to have supportive teachers. I love that I can go into a classroom and encourage kids to be creative, weird and expressive. I love working with Badgerdog and have found that a lot of times the students’ writing makes me jealous!

What’s next for your writing?

I am going to finish my novel, and hopefully have it published! I will have another excerpt published in Palooka Journal‘s spring 2012 issue, which you can read here.

On the side, I am writing hubpages about food, and will hopefully be editing a cookbook in the near future … you can read my food articles here.

At Badgerdog, we’re always listening to our students, to their teachers and principals, and to their parents.  And we’re always listening to our instructors.  We’re invested in them not only because they are successful, engaging, creative teachers, but because they are writers whose work we seek out and enjoy. We know that if you haven’t heard of Badgerdog’s Creative Writing Summer Camp before, you might not be sure how it works.  For the next few weeks, we’ll be giving you a behind the scenes look at camp. You’ll hear how our instructors feel about facilitating three weeks of creative exploration; you’ll get to hear about how a typical day works; and you’ll get to hear how our former summer camp writers and their parents felt about their experiences.

On a field trip to the Blanton Museum, our summer campers look to art for inspiration.

Thoughts from Jena, who taught taught upper elementary students:

When I first walked onto the campus of the Girl’s School of Austin I was overwhelmed by the beauty. Huge oak trees, budding flowers, and even a precious kitten were there to greet me. The location proved to be a utopia for writers offering windows as opposed to classroom walls. The ten students with whom I shared this glorious space for three weeks were just as magnificent … [They]had the ability to carry on a discussion exploring meaning and interpretation with great maturity. This carried over into sharing time where they offered positive feedback and constructive ideas for editing to one another. They were fully engaged in writing and in each other’s writing, which made for a superior community experience.

Thoughts from Megan, who taught middle school students:

The middle school students, with their enthusiasm for the fantastical and the absurd, their ability to laugh, and their unfettered imaginations, reminded me again of what I had seemingly forgotten—that writing is all around us and that to engage with words does not always require realism. The most surprising part of this seemingly obvious realization was that I found my own writing and teaching were flourishing in that kind of imagination-rich environment.

Thoughts from Stephanie, who taught lower elementary students:

From my merry band of elementary schoolers at camp I received a lovely and unexpected gift: their own precious creativity was broken down to the tiniest, most basic components and handed back to me in the form of hilarious synonyms, wacky Greek myths, heartbreaking haikus, and passionate sonnets about soccer and pigs. My heart is full of gratitude for the joy of writing, for the excitement of watching young writers find their voices, and for the trust they had in me to respect the work they so lovingly created.

Our writers autograph anthologies for their adoring fans.

If you have any questions about our Badgerdog Creative Writing Summer Camp, be sure to contact our Education Programs Manager, Cecily Sailer, at (512) 538-1305, ext. 102, or cecily.sailer(at)badgerdog.org. We’re running a special discount on summer camp—so check us out on Facebook or Twitter to find the coupon code and enter to win a free Spring Break workshop spot for your writer.

So many love poems, from the elementary school writers in our Youth Voices in Ink Spring 2011 anthology.

Today, we are pleased to highlight our Silver Voices in Ink programs, which offer creative writing workshops for adults 50 and older. These workshops take place in libraries, recreation centers, senior centers, City of Austin Housing Authority sites, and YMCA facilities. The writers who join us are courageous and honest, and they quickly befriend one another, sharing their stories and insights and offering their support. Often, the workshops create such an atmosphere of camaraderie that the writers form their own literary group after the workshop ends. Last month, we launched a workshop at the YMCA East Communities Branch (with many thanks to A Glimmer of Hope Foundation). Now, just a few weeks into the class, one of the participating writers shares her poem about the workshop itself. Shamala Gallagher, the Badgerdog Workshop instructor leading the class, offers a few additional words to introduce the piece.

On the second day of my Silver Voices workshop at YMCA East, poet Pamela Burger surprised and delighted me by presenting me with this typed, expansive, and carefully crafted poem—not in response to any assignment I had given her, but simply as a tribute to our new community of writers. In this poem, I am taken not only by her musical language, but also by her humility and kind generosity of spirit.

Shamala Gallagher
Badgerdog Workshop Instructor

Silver Voices

I heard about this writing class,
A love I have always had.
I wasn’t really too worried,
As it couldn’t be that bad!

I waited in rapt anticipation,
My books and pen so new;
And wondered who would be there
And what new ideas we had to do.

I realize how many years had gone
Since I had used the words I’ve learned.
And this was to help remind me
I could still take my turn.

Their faces were so greeting
And the laughter so sincere.
I felt a glimmer of mystery
In coming to participate here.

It had been so long since writing
In my known and natural state,
That I was so sure that all I knew
Was forever to be my fate!

But a very special memory miracle…
These folks just flowed with words.
Beautiful and spontaneous and with
Many I knew I had truly never heard.

Writing has come long distances
With words I never knew were there;
The flow and easy passages lifted
Me from my beginner’s despair.

I hope to learn this magic life,
To learn to think so strong,
That maybe in the near future
My memory, too, can come along.

I love the journey of poetry.
Maybe I’ll be an author, too!
The people here, they share with me
In special words I never knew.

I love my Silver Voices group
As they lead me down the path
Of new words and phrases
That were not part of my past.

I now can see the magic
Of the words that fill the air
And all the special people
Who have made us all aware.

Their working words are poignant
In a world so strewn with life!
And they can take me with them,
Sharing our happiest memory flights.

I feel like I have learned a lot
And my mind has grown to see
All the places, times, and thoughts
That only these memories can free!

I am a Silver Voice in training
And I think I will have my say…
I know I have special people
Here to guide me on my way!

Pamela Burger
Silver Voices in Ink Writer

For those young writers staying close to home this Spring Break, Badgerdog is offering an imagination vacation! Just pack up your favorite pencils and don your creative thinking caps. It may first appear you’ve stepped into a classroom, but you’ll soon discover you’ve unlocked the door to other worlds never before seen or mapped or photographed. You’ll encounter odd creatures, heroes and villains, stories of romance and adventure, and landscapes that would grace the cover of an extraterrestrial National Geographic.

What we mean to say is—for the first time—Badgerdog is offering a Spring Break Creative Writing Camp! Our inspirational teaching artists will guide students through the art of poetry and prose writing and offer endless inspiration to aid writers in their literary creations.

Workshops meet from 9 a.m. to noon for three days—Tuesday, March 13, through Thursday, March 15—at the Griffin School in Hyde Park (5001 Evans Avenue). Young writers in grades three through twelve can enroll in one, two, or three days of programming. For more information about our spring vacation package, visit our website.

This spring, Badgerdog joins more than thirty community partners across Austin in an exploration of human dignity and courage. As part of Ballet Austin’s Light / The Holocaust & Humanity Project, Badgerdog teaching artists are sharing with their students texts that bear witness to civil conflict and oppression. Inspired by these poems and stories, writers of all ages will create their own work in response. Through this creative process, students share words of hope, concern, and remembrance. Next month, on March 11, students from each of our schools and community workshops will share their poetry on stage at Ballet Austin in a reading titled, “In Front of Strangers I Sing.” This past week, Badgerdog teaching artist Jena Kirkpatrick invited her fourth-grade workshops at Brown Elementary School and Pickle Elementary School to join the conversation. Here, she recounts the experience.

When introducing the Holocaust, I used the story of the children of Terezin, a Nazi concentration camp just northwest of Prague, and one of its most notable survivors, Michael Flack. I think my students were most shocked by the number of children taken to Terezin (15,000) and the very few (100) survivors.

As a group, we discussed basic human rights, and I asked students to identify what these are. They gave examples like food, water, shelter, and an existence free of physical abuse. I then asked these young writers to reflect on how it would feel to be taken from your home, separated from family members, and forced to wear the Star of David on your clothes to identify you as Jewish. One student raised his hand and exclaimed, “I would not do it.” This led to a discussion about our basic human rights and freedom of religion, so I asked students to imagine how they would feel sleeping on a concrete floor, having little food and water, and being asked to perform 80-100 hours of hard labor a week. Jose A. at Pickle Elementary wrote, “I am sitting here in this ugly place. My tears are rolling down my red, puffed cheeks.” Carla E. offered these words: “I want to survive, but I don’t know how. Must I die to see my parents? Then I see a big flower. I want to smell it, but it’s on the other side.”

The introduction of poet Michael Flack turned the conversation to hope and light in the midst of great despair. His poem, “On A Sunny Evening,” was found in the cracks of the walls of the concentration camp. I asked student to identify lines in the poem that focused on hope through nature. Their responses were filled with optimism. Anessa B. at Brown Elementary wrote, “I found hope. I see flowers and trees. I won’t die. I won’t die. I will survive.”

As class concluded for the day, we discussed how people, when standing together, have strength in numbers. We decide to act when one voice cries out in the name of injustice. In a poem she titled “A Day of Hope,” Destiny, a student at Pickle Elementary, provided an eloquent summary of our lesson for the day: “There’s one person every day who believes there’s going to be hope.”

Jena Kirkpatrick
Badgerdog Instructor