2-A-2

= Home > Activity 2-A-2: Where I'm From=

Instructions:

 * 1) Read the poem Where I'm From by George Ella Lyons. If you wish, you can also listen to the author read her poem by clicking on the speaker next to the words "Listen to George Ella read the poem."
 * 2) Compare this to some student examplesbased on this poem.
 * 3) In a word processing document, w rite your own I am from… poem following the basic structure provided in the examples. Use images and metaphors for multiple senses. You may use this templateas a guide for your poem.
 * 4) Post your poem to the course wiki:
 * Click the ** Edit ** tab in the upper-right corner.
 * Scroll down the page until you see the first empty Where I'm From Poem space.
 * Highlight the " Enter your name here. " text and type your name.
 * Copy your poem text from the word processing document. Highlight the " Paste your poem here. " text and paste your poem.
 * Press ** Save ** on the Editor bar.
 * 1) Comment on at least two other people's poems. In your comments, note any images that stood out to you from the poem and compare your own experiences to those of your peers. To comment:
 * Click the ** Edit ** tab in the upper-right corner.
 * Scroll down the page until you see the comment section under the poem you want to comment on.
 * Type your comments followed by your first name and last initial.
 * Press ** Save ** on the Editor bar.

Where I'm From Poems

 * Name:** Elizabeth Wilson


 * __ Where I Am From __**

I am from glass doorknobs, Mennen aftershave and Niagara spray starch. I am from a substantial white farm house on a grassy hill. I am from the lacey spirea, four leaf clovers, strong oaks and lucky buckeye trees. I am from homemade vanilla ice cream and dark brown eyes. From Mim and Harold, Toots and Poppy, Mother and Dad. I am from musical, artistic, and skilled hands. From use your head and go outside. I am from Amazing Grace and Rock of Ages. I'm from Indianapolis, iced tea, and cherry pie. From the green glass oil lamp that once lit the path of my great-grandmother’s grandmother and poems remembered and recited from Grandpa’s schoolhouse days. I am from cedar chests, linen presses, and dusty attics filled with handkerchiefs, letters, faded photos, butter churns, and a wheel that traveled across the ocean that is still turning, spinning my story.

Elizabeth, your poem reminded me of several friends from college who were also from the Indianapolis area. I pictured them as I was reading the names of what I'm assuming were the names of your grandparents - they had similar names for their grandparents. Very happy memories! Dan T.
 * Comments:**

Elizabeth, I remember cutting my hand on those glass doorknobs. I forgot that I had them in my house too. What cherished memories! Marcia S.


 * Name:** Dan Thomas


 * WHERE I'M FROM**

I am from the small old rusty Gremlin that amazed everyone For when the parents got out that they were followed by not one, not two, not three, not four, but five children. I am from the blue house with many voices and laughter. I am from the small yard with the high grass, the dandelions, clover and other weeds. I am from the Christmas Eve White Elephant Christmas exchange and loud laugh, from Daniel Roy and Maureen, and blessed now with Allison, Alex, and Josh. I am from educators and runners. From reading is important and look both ways or you won’t be reading anything while being reminded that it is more important to live for each other than to live for things. I am from the Upper Room Devotional that reminds me daily who I am and whose I am. I'm from Valparaiso, through Chicago and Ireland, Irish soda bread and beer. From drunk Great Grandfather Roy chasing a man through the streets of Chicago with a fire hatchet, from father Dan who claimed to be the best tree digger in Northwest Indiana, from mighty mother Maureen who packed a lot of power and spirit in her 4’11” body. I am from the old cabinet, with trophies and plaques showing victories won and accomplishments earned, and with pictures reminding us of the ones we love who are still with us and pictures giving us memories of ones we loved and dearly miss.

Dan, When you described your yard filled with dandelions and clover it reminds me of the hours I spent as a child blowing dandelion seeds to make a wish and searching for four leaf clovers. I loved those "weeds". -Elizabeth
 * Comments: Dan, I haven't seen an Upper Room Devotional in years. I remember them lying on my grandmother's end table on top of her Bible. I don't know if she truly read the devotionals, but she is a fine, Christian woman, 92 years young.**
 * Teresa W.**
 * Dan,**
 * Some of your line definitely sounds like people I wouldn't to get on the bad side of.**
 * Brian**

Dan, Your family sounds interesting. I bet there are a lot more good stories other than the ones you shared. Marcia S


 * Name:** Marcia Sangeorzan.


 * WHERE I'M FROM**

I am from wooden doors that welcome everyone, Maxwell House and Prince Albert. I am from the gray, shingled house that sits below the hill. I am from the fragrant lilacs, rich tulips and numerous pines all in a row. I am from fresh baked apple pie and sparkling blue eyes. From John and Hattie, William and Alyce, Nicholas and Elizabeth. I am from the outspoken homemaker and skilled laborer. From always believe in yourself and play outside. I am from the Christian faith, follower of John Calvin. I am from Grand Rapids by way of the Netherlands, Brown bread with cheese and windmill cookies. From Father Nickolas, killing the pesky moles that inhabited the yard, from polio stricken Uncle Jack always being the “Old Maid” when playing cards on a Sunday afternoon, from Grandpa Dykhouse, sharing tales over warm orange soda and sugar cookies. I am from the creaky attic, cedar chest filled with crochet handkerchiefs, yellowed post cards, photos of unknown relatives and friends, all telling a story filled with memories of those we love.


 * Comments:**
 * Elizabeth,**
 * I remember the Maxwell House coffee at my home too. We also had lilacs and pine trees all in a row. They separated the backyard where we used to play kickball. We also played beneath the trees using the dropped needles for our soups.**
 * Patty P.**
 * Elizabeth,**
 * I think it's cool to trace ancestry through religion with an eye toward geographical settlement. It doesn't take much geneological probing to see which religions populated which regions of the U.S.**
 * Brian**


 * Name:** Patty Price


 * Poem:**

=
I am from cedar chests, large boxes, photo albums and frames. Containing the memories of times that have pasted. They hold the moments with my father now looking down from above. Moments from a lucky trip to Disney. The memories they bring are more precious to me than any rare metal or gem.======

Patty, the house across the street growing up from us was a green and white aluminum sided house. It has since been remodeled and looks different but your poem reminded me how I it looked. I will have to check with my brothers and sister next time we gather at the old house to see if they remember how the house across the street once looked. And, ahhh, those fun summer days spending hours at the pool! Dan T.
 * Comments:**

Patty,

Disney is worth it, right? I go back and forth on taking my kids there. Why was it a "lucky" trip?

Brian

Brian, I have great memories of Disney but it was a one time trip for my family. It was not something we could afford and when my dad won on a scratch off ticket and took us to Disney. I would love to take my kids some day. It has changed though since I was there in the early 80's. I have friends who take their families about every other year. Patty P


 * Name:Teresa Whitehouse**

Where I’m From
 * Poem:**

I am from coal dust, from Dial soap and Crisco. I am from the twin hills tri-level on the corner with the large maple. I am from the green bean stringing, the corn shucking. I am from large holiday meals and shared funny stories, from Ed and Mary, and Sol and Dessie. I am from the night fishing and daytime boating. From always tell the truth and never wear white shoes before Easter. I am from Beaver Dam Baptist Church, sitting on the same pew every Sunday. I’m from western Kentucky, fried catfish and cornbread. From the bee in Aunt Ruth’s shorts at the cemetery, the baiting the hook using a tissue, and the dentures lying at the bottom of the swimming pool. I am from praise the Lord, ya’ll come eat, and come back soon.


 * Comments:Teresa, Reading your poem brought back memories of large holiday meals at my house. I remember we sat in the dining room and basement, but the kids got to sit at card tables throughout the house. Your poem also brought back memories of sitting in the same pew every Sunday. My grandfather wore hearing aids and he would have to sit in the same pew that was set up with ear phones to magnify the sermon. MarciaS**
 * Teresa,**
 * The Crisco brought back a funny memory I was told I did. I put it in my hair and it took my Mom several shampoos to get it out. We too sat in the same pew every Sunday, third from the back on the left side. It funny how you remember things from so long ago.**
 * Patty P.**


 * Name:** Brian Reinking

Reinking I Am poem 2-A-2
 * Poem:**

I am from strawberry Hi-Ci, from Lance peanut butter crackers, and from Domino’s delivery.

I am from a small brick cape cod on a busy bus-traveled road across from a sprawling education complex.

I’m from honeysuckle, azalea, and gladiolas, from dripping summer melons, sun-warmed tomatoes, and garden lettuce eaten with specks of dirt still clinging to its leaves.

I’m from poker for pennies, tall frames and bad knees, from Reinking and Roche and Snyder.

I am from a head in higher education and nose on the grindstone.

I am from Kansas Dust Bowl andConnecticutsuburb.

I’m from “use your head to make a living” and “use it up wear it out make it last or do without.”

I’m from a number of trips to church I can can’t on my two hands and one foot, that is including weddings.

I’m fromMissoula,Fort Sill,New Brunswick,Bar Harbor, and Pompton Plains.

I’m from sardines on rye bread and a dime in the right palm.

I’m from great grandfather’s thumb nailed to a fence post out of shouting distance to the house, a grandfather’s broken leg on an icy pond that spoiled a state basketball run, and from a nearly fatal fall into a great grease pit inVietnamwill on recon to steal another unit’s coffee maker.

I’m from two tome on immigration and homesteading history, the shift from agricultural to professional work, and from a long line of military service (excluding my brother and me).

I’m from mothers who cooked well, kept their opinions to themselves, and worried themselves sick so that the family could be comfortable and safe.


 * Comments:**

When you described the "dripping summer melons and sun-warmed tomatoes", it instantly reminded me of the tastes I remember from my childhood summers as well. What delicious memories! -Elizabeth

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