7 Questions: This poem represents a “slice of life” recently when I had to tell one of my Seniors that she had not made the “magic number” for a test that would fufill a major graduation requirement for her. She immediately, and understandably, broke into tears. After talking with her for quite some time, giving her space (and tissues) to cry, I learned that she had just moved here from Puerto Rico in July. A brand new state/school/peninsula for her Senior year. During a global pandemic.
I knew that English was her second language . She was like many of my ELL students: quiet, polite, rarely asking questions as they navigate a brand new existence. I had begun to witness progress in her writing, mainly in that she was starting to actually submit her annoations for our shared reading text, The Poet X. If you have not read this amazing book, I beg you to!
The place I am with my second language (Spanish) involves me learning my numbers (I am now up to the 300s!) and, “Yo como manzanas…I eat apples.” My Senior is far more advanced in her second language than am I. The good news is that she has now fufilled this graduation requirement. :)
During our one-on-one data chat, I showed her that she had missed the “magic number” by 7 questions. 7 questions. Hence, the poem I wrote for her:
7 Questions
7 questions.
That is how many
Baby Girl missed on the test.
And all of a sudden,
Her smile slowly morphed
As she began to question her
Worth.
“I was beginning to believe that I was smart. That I was doing good,” Baby girl said.
You moved from an island
to a peninsula.
Away from Friends.
Away from Family.
Away from love.
Away from your voice.
Not smart?
You figured out how to…
Do a new school.
Pass 7 new classes.
Make new friends.
Communicate with new teachers.
Some nice. Some not.
All in a new language.
You are now finding a
New Voice.
Your Voice.
7 questions, Baby Girl.
Your worth
Your power
Your intelligence
Cannot be touched by
7 questions.
Love,
Mrs. G