the commute

one of the reasons i came back early from wigmore was to teach a slew of 5th graders poetry at a public school in brooklyn

at least that’s what the administration thought they were signing up for -- a poet, who would get the kids to write poems about spring, flowers, color . . not that there is anything wrong with writing with about these things, it’s just not what i have been teaching

they didn't realize they were hiring the love artist, oh well, lucky them

lucky kids

if i do say so myself

it is easy to see the transformation on a minute by minute basis

the focus & concentration of love

just by paying attention: me to them, them to me, to each other, to themselves

it’s been powerful to see my current raw & kundalini & devotional transformation translated into this work i am doing with kids, something i have done for years, with love i can assure you, but something i have seen as separate from my "love" work (which i somewhat comically, now, thought of as my "art work"). .

but really the true love project really started with the work i did with kids, if i am honest &, of course, started with me being a mom . .

i have always incorporated some breathing & moving around into my work with kids & always, always, especially with the more troubled teenagers i have worked with, focused on appreciating the tiny details of their life that may go unnoticed, forcing them to be present & grateful, but i also felt the pressure of their resistance (& the resistance of the teachers) to this slow process of becoming conscious

it takes time to feel & know & as eckhart tolle says: become friendly with the present moment . . it really takes time, there is a lot of dead air time in the room & teachers get really fidgety . . kids too . . but i noticed a new bravery in my teaching this week

i did not soften the exercises, did not change them halfway thru, like i used to, let them sit in their own silence, look for the bubble of ideas inside their bodies, resist the critical mind, to wait for themselves to come forward, vulnerable, quiet. .

it was scary, a little, like hanging over a cliff

but they scream when i enter the room, out of joy, really

their forgotten & chosen & forgotten again & loved selves  "ms kathe . . poetry!!!!!"

hope to bring some poems here soon

(i found this photo above on the internet, can’t take pictures in the school without releases, might not be able to use the poems either, but i am looking into it . .)

Comments

[denise]

that's beautiful truly. i'm now working with 'developmentally disable' adults and i'm going to see how i can use this with them. i think they feel stuck and frustrated and thus act out.
thank you for this. xxoo

[the love artist]

i'm working on a curriculum for this . . i have some writings/exercises i could share with you, perhaps you could adapt them for your community

xx tla

[m a riccardi]

This is intriguing...I teach English and writing in a high school where there is tremendous pressure to "achieve"--all with material goals in mind: the brand-name college, the high income, etc. When I offer my students chances to be present, I am sometimes met with bewilderment (at best) and derision (at worst), by the kids AND the adults! Still, it feels valuable, and very necessary. I'd love to learn more about what you do...