…you must
Be the thing you see.
— from “To Look at Any Thing,” by John Moffett
Scholastic book order day in Mrs. Rader’s sixth-grade English class was my favorite. Once, I thumbed through the newsprint leaflet and selected a poetry anthology called Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle.
When I became an English teacher, I got my hands on the bright yellow hardback edition that’s sitting here beside me as I write. I’ve read it so often, the binding is creased, and the book opens automatically to John Moffit’s poem, “To Look at Any Thing.”
I assigned this poem for the first time to an eighth-grade class of sullen farm boys, doomed to summer school. I don’t remember their reaction, but I’m sure I read the poem aloud, earnestly, as I have every single year to high school, undergraduate, and graduate students; teachers in professional development workshops; and the occasional heartsick friend. Like a slippery trout, the poem makes its way back through fast-moving waters to be caught and released again and again.
There will never be a year of teaching–or a day in my life–when I do not need to “enter in / To the small silences between / The leaves /…And touch the very peace / They issue from.”
Yet every time I read this poem, it catches me by surprise. I stop barreling through my life long enough to pause and look out the window. I breathe. I wonder what the thing is that I must be.
Cindy O’Donnell-Allen
When I was 17, my high school English teacher told me I was a writer. He knew I would be a teacher before I did. Now, I’m a professor in the English Department at Colorado State University (CSU), where I also direct the CSU Writing Project. I was a high school English teacher for eleven heartbreakingly and gloriously unpredictable years.
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Wander around and see which stories speak to you. Each story contributes to our collective experiences, creating a bridge of shared understanding.
Reflect on a meaningful saying, quote, poem or song. It could be an old family saying, a quote that inspires you, or a heart-touching poem or song.
I don’t know my yoga students well. Their work, their families, their passions, their struggles are mostly mysteries to me. When they walk into class our focus is the yoga. We pay attention to our poses, our bodies, and our breath and try to leave the rest outside.
The pandemic was particularly hard on the mental health of adolescents. Their activities, plans, hopes and dreams were canceled or changed, and disappointment hit hard. Now many teenagers are depressed, angry, frustrated, confused and are falling deep into holes of anxiety, fear and futility.
This past year, I turned 70, published my first collection of short stories, and lost my eldest brother to cancer. These events left me feeling as if I am only now beginning to know who I am.
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