Fourth grade students at my school are beginning a unit on writing poetry this week. Their last unit was an expository essay unit, so they really have to switch gears to match the new genre. To prepare her students for this new kind of writing, Mrs. Hales led them through some writing exercises involving their feelings.
Every Kind of Feeling
Mrs. Hales began this exercise by giving her students the following list of feeling words. (This list was created by the Children’s Center at the University of California — Santa Barbara and can be found here.)
I especially love the categories this list provides. At the top of each column are general, basic feeling words (and the ones most commonly used in student writing). Below each of those are more specific versions of those feelings.
Students were invited to highlight the feelings that they had previously experienced, or those feelings with which they felt a strong connection. They then put this list in their writer’s notebook for reference. A few students showed me where they had jotted down times they felt disappointed or lonely so they could remember the details of the experience.
Using Senses to Describe Feelings
During the mini-lesson the next day, students were reminded that writers sometimes use sensory language (or each of their senses) to describe something. Mrs. Hales had the students choose one of their highlighted words from the feelings list, and they spent time thinking about that feeling through each sense. They created a flipbook (pictured below) with one flap for each of their senses. Students then spent their independent writing time thinking about how the chosen feeling might smell, taste, look, hear, or feel. Most of them used comparisons to things they already knew, like “plain white rice” as the taste of loneliness.
Student Responses to This Activity
I talked to several students about their experience with this activity, and I absolutely loved their responses. I promised I would include their smart thinking in my post.
Me: That’s a pretty long list of feeling words — what made you choose this word?
Student #1 (lonely): Well, I knew we were about to write poetry. I’ve written poetry before, so I know that my best poems usually come from my miserable side.
Student #2 (heartbreak): We were supposed to pick an emotion that we have experienced. I wouldn’t necessarily say that I’ve experienced a lot of heartbreak, but I see a lot of heartbreak in people around me, so I know a lot about it and it really stuck out to me.
Me: How do you think this activity will help you as a writer?
Student #1: Well, I never thought about describing my feelings like this before. I can paint a good picture with descriptions like this that use my senses.
Student #2: I don’t think I’ll use these exact sentences when I write about heartbreak because that probably wouldn’t flow very well. It will definitely be a good resource though, so I’ll be sure to look back at it when I want to include this feeling in my poems.
I can’t wait to see the poems produced in this unit. If this pre-writing activity is any indication, I will certainly be blown away by what I read! What pre-writing activities have you tried? Let me know in the comments!
I grew up in Los Angeles, and I love it. I feel so passionately about my town that I feel I must draw a clear line in the sand when it comes to our coastal rivalry with New York. The east coast, and New York in particular, represents such a stark contrast to our sunshine-and-sandals ways in California. Prior to this trip, most of my experiences with New York were brief 4- to 12-hour trips taking the train in from Connecticut or driving through to get my favorite foods. But this trip in particular, there’s something different.
Here, New York through the five senses:
New York has a smell. It first hit me when taking the subway in from JFK. That old familiar scent that’s a mix of a shirt from a vintage clothing store and sulfur. What is that? As New York has been here elevendy million years, that smell in the subway is probably a combination of a lot of things. Maybe urine, maybe wafts from the ethnic food stalls, or maybe it’s whatever is steaming up from those random pipes in the middle of the street. They say smell can be the most powerful trigger for memory and the endearing scent of this town reminds me of the fondness so many have for New York, that lived-in smell.
Walking out of the serenity of my friend’s apartment on the Upper West Side you’re hit with a wall of sound on Amsterdam Ave. The siren. The garbage truck. The taxi accelerating. The kid laughing. The click of heels. The language of French and the language of “French.” The sound of a businessman yelling into his iPhone. The Puerto Rican couple arguing about Facebook. Now take all that and multiply it by ten, pretend it’s a fish, then slap yourself in the face with it. Sound is energy and that’s perhaps the most distinct part of the vibe of this city.
You are sticky. You are grimy. You are happy. You’re constantly aware of the space (or lack thereof) around you because you’re always in contact with other people — may it be passing on the street or jammed into a line outside of a bar. You are touching the turnstile to get in to the subway. Your legs are touching the seat of a taxi. The feel of the Post, err, I mean Times, in your hand. Your shoes on the cobblestoned streets in Greenwich. The warmth of slice of pizza in your hand. All of these things become that special touch of New York.
There are people that eat to live and those that live to eat. I am the guy that drove four hours to Philadelphia from New Haven just to try the two warring cheesesteak places Pat and Geno’s because I saw them featured on the Travel Channel (then of course stopped at Serendipity in New York on the way back). A big part of New York to me is the food and that’s a draw for any trip I take. I know I’m not alone in this, as this is where a large portion of Michelin-starred restaurants reside, and this is where cooks come to be chefs. May it be from that special blend of gourmet burger at Minetta Tavern, a deceitful crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside cookie from Levain Bakery, the pure genius of the Halal carts, or the jarring, simple decadence of a slice of Artichoke Pizza. I can’t articulate in words the flavors of this town, but somehow, the food always feels like love.
New York is visually stunning, defined by the people and the buildings. The people are energy, feeling, and movement that create emotion, splashed against the canvas of the architecture. The buildings provide a stark, static contrast and permanence to a town that is constantly evolving. The lone flower growing out of a crack in the sidewalk is beautiful. The giant trees in Washington Square Park are beautiful. The rowboats and the ice skating in Central Park are beautiful. The view from the top of Rockefeller center is beautiful (and better than the Empire State building). The street carts are beautiful. Times Square at night is beautiful. The women are beautiful. The sleeping homeless man is beautiful. The doormen are beautiful. The train conductors are beautiful. The NYPD is beautiful. Everything here is beautiful, near overwhelming, if you’re ready to look at it full-on.
If you asked me two years ago about this town I would have said “I like New York but I’m not in love with it.” So if much of love is timing, then what does that mean for me now?
New York, I love you.
image – Cyber Fyber