Faculty of Education's Virtual Poetry Space

A Spoken Word Slam Poem 

By Evelyn Gock, student

Inspired by J. Miller’s notions of transmission/transaction/transformation in Holistic Education 

Before I started this journey, I was in denial 
Not the river 
But the actual state of mind 
Denial 
Denial of my values 
 
People thought I was 
A knowledgeable teacher who worked hard 
Busy as a bee  
Collecting  
Collecting  
And collecting information  
Stoically  
Like a rock 
 
Collecting consumed my time 
Finite, precious time 
Invisible, intangible, inexorable  
(Foe of patience)  
 
Time that could have been spent 
Connecting with myself 
In heart, body and spirit 
Exercising, meditating, breathing 
Noticing 
Cleansing 
 
Time that could have been spent 
Connecting with family 
Husband, daughter, siblings, parents 
Colleagues and friends 
Over coffee 
Over books 
Over recess 
Over problems 
Laughing, crying, 
Listening, sharing 
Time that could have been spent  
Respecting my mother  
Mother Earth  
The One who takes my b******t  
Yet relentlessly sustains me with food, water, and air  
(The precious gifts for life)  
The provider of my home,  
Where beautiful intersecting relationships live  
(Humanity)

I stuffed my RAM beyond its rim  
The RAM in my brain  
My million-year-old, unevolved brain  
That society unfairly compares to a digital innovation  
The computer  
The One that will become our saviour  
With a push of a button  
Or a swipe to the right

Until the day 
COVID brought us to our knees 
With full lockdowns 
And remote learning 
Someone somewhere somehow 
Hit restart 
(Click!) 
(Ouch!)

Sporting my rose-colored glasses  
I thought it didn’t matter  
Time made me wealthy  
Rich with information, experiences, and knowledge  
My cup was full I could handle it,  
But I had forgotten  
(Clink, crack!)  
What’s important was how it’s served 
 
I used to think that if I could expand her cup 
Roll up the rim 
Fill it ‘til it’s overflowing 
I would protect my ego 
(For the win like Timmy) 
 
Little did I know 
What my gut innately knew 
My soul 
Was fading to black 
I lost my way 
Buried under the weight of  
(More is better) 
Divide and conquer 
(No pain, no gain) 
Picture perfect 
 
Consumption  
Of information  
Industrialization  
Compartmentalization  
Standardization  
Severed my intuition  
That wireless connection  
To land  
To the child  
To myself  
(Snip, snip, snip!)  
Separation  
Alienation  
Devastation 
 
Let’s not shun the -tions of the past  
They brought us darkness for  
Our stars to shine  
 
Through  
Imagination  
Reconciliation  
Integration  
Re-unification  
Spiritualization  
I can be that agent of  
Transformation in Education

Who slays the day  
(Like the Paper Bag Princess)  
In the circus of my classroom  
Where understanding comes from authentic experiences  
Spurred by our curiosities  
And acquired  
Across our bodies  
Across our surroundings  
Across our relationships  
Through story and ceremony  
(Under these constellations)

Singing as the Great Remembering 

Simardeep Kaur, Student

The sweet scent of honeysuckle meeting my face
On a neighbourhood bike ride in the summer sun
The rush of the breeze forming a canopy under my t-shirt
Inviting mosquitos to feast on my brown sugar skin 

I can’t scratch the itch on my back
Mama said dinner will be ready before the sun sets
My hands stay put on my handlebars
as I pedal my way home 

I lean into the sting and stay the course
This is how I sing my way into my memories . . .

Inquiry in Education: Playful forms of Curiosity

Laura Brown, Student

In free verse, is one actually free?  
Not literally but maybe, creatively, it comes from within. Performatively, as in ...  
... it is "the one who listens that learns". And all that, in tales.  
... to ACT(ually) be curious and explore without form  
Means to dig deep and weave - exploring beyond, and then so much more.  
Through the metaphors and wordplay, free /break/from convention.  
The 'plexity-of perplexity, complexity and duplexity  
... where barriers of plexi came to have meaning ... I imagined a glass house and placed it between, while keeping them safe from an invisible unseen. 
Blurry and Distorted, but more real than the screen.

And in doing so... 
• What surprises -to discover/uncovered?
• Can be perceived/received - by who and how?
• And what can be gained by offering space - to compare, share, acknowledge and reflect?  

The bravery to ask "what's next" ... to find self. In a what/so what frame to challenge next steps.  
A child's sneezy sleeve, an adult's missed day.  
A desk waiting, in the morning light. 
"Into the unknown" ... and "a thousand reasons I should go about my day". 
Clean slate? 
 
Perhaps, but listening closely.  
How to define (my)self: …. in words, 
… in experience? 
… in themes that I notice? 
Asking, when do I feel most me? 
CENTERING 

A top spinning and wobbling out of control? 
Always the impossible is possible but.... 
Pirouette or a fouetté, the secret is the same. 

Always hold the spot.  

At 24

By Kathy Do, Student 

At 24
I never thought I'd have to try so hard
To fit in
To belong
To feel safety 
And warmth 
To feel seen
And understood
To be valued
And cared for
I never thought I'd have to start over
And to be honest
I'm scared,
terrified,
That I'll never feel these things
Ever again 

animacy vs SPIRIT

by Ramona Elke, Student

What follows is a poem for my youngest son and our stay in hospital while he healed enough to come home without oxygen. 

I wrote it reflecting on the discussion we were having in our class about the concept of animacy. For me this didn’t fit my living reality. I needed to speak to spirit in this work – to call to the burning world, to the inflammation in my son’s body.  I didn’t know what else to do.

I resent these theoretical readings
of this and that
when my youngest child fights to breathe…
airways closing
   closing
   closing
until he pants in frustration
“I am not made for this timeline
with COVID”
    and smoke
    and war
    and dying waters

my newly 20 year old child
wants to die

because the destruction of everything around him
is choking him to death! 

he is the clarion call
the canary in the coal mine
the nameless
            other
                  multitudinous harbingers of out total demise
because we put money ahead of microbes
and profits ahead of pine tress
                                 poplars
                                 and monarch butterflies. 

when you hear the guttural hacking coughs of your child
fighting for air,
the theoretical conversations about our relationships
to All Our Relations
moves from the idea
to big f*****g “P” practice
pretty quickly.

 he pays the price for the greed
and grabbing hands of corporations
who will never know his face
or speak his name
if he chooses to kill himself
because he can’t live a life without breath. 

the trips to the hospital –
over the past 20 years –
the holding tight of the frightened,
frustrated,
exhausted little
            medium
            bigger body –
makes pretty real
the theory of inter-species whatever you call it…
he’s living the consequences of the lack of it. 

Descartes is killing my child –
Descartes and
Dow
and Musk
and Bezos
and all those oil companies
and lumber companies
and fishing trollers
and mining companies
who lost the ability to see the Spirit of all Beings! 

the lack of “animacy”
     (ugh…even that word is sterile)
the lack of SPIRIT
                  inaabiiwin
is killing my child
and millions of other mother’s children. 

we have to move from the safety
of academic understanding of the SPIRITS
and water personhood
or your child could be next…
that is our reality
on this split road to the Eight Fire:
either we give place to All Our Relations
or we kill ourselves pretending they don’t exist.

Oct 23/22

A Cry for Justice!

PreetAman Kaur Mann, Student

I walked far to connect with Mother womb.
I nestled my heart in her lap.
She listened to me and took my worries away.
I reciprocated the same way.
Earth says, “I am your mother. I will take your pain.”
Water says, “I am your father. I will help you sustain.”
If both of us die, how would “a life” chain?
It is sad how humans’ wisdom and compassion are dead!
It is sad how humans made simple ways so complex.
Look! How human’s heart, health, and peace are so perplexed.
We all can heal with Reverence, Responsibility, Reciprocity, Relevance, Relationship, and Respect!

Self-Synecdoche

by Paula Rosehart, faculty member

Teaching parts 
Parts of me that teach 
 
The parts 
That are  
Part 
Of the whole 
But are not whole 
 
Until 
 
And 
 
Unless 
in relationship 
to one another 
To the other parts 
 
And 
 
To the whole 
My relationship to self 
And 
Ultimately 
My relationship 
To OTHERS  
 
Interpersonal-ness 
Can penetrate 
Into meaning 
 
To understand and be understood. 
This self also wants to be understood 
For the whole 
 
And 
 
For the parts. 
 
The part of Self that teaches OTHERS 
 
The self that teaches 
 
The teacher 
 
The whole body 
 
The part of me that relates to the whole class 
through the whole body both inner and outer, 

Teaching in and through the bodymind,  
Bodyspirit  
use the whole body as a locus for learning,  
embodiment of self,  
 
Listen to the voice of the body  
my inner life that regulates my heartbeat, my breath and sensual life.

The Breath 
This part

my desire to give voice to the inchoate,  
to the inner,  
and to feelings,  
thoughts, 
desires,  
the ability to express the feelings in various life-giving forms.  
To share the space, fill the space with our breath  
Situating us  
As we exchange oxygen  
Life’s breath 
 
The mouth 
This part 
 
My words,  
I desire to speak the truth, authentically encouraging and supporting others in their learning journey. 
All life begins with breath  
 
Return to the breath  
to connect with the bodyspirit  
to provide moments of pause  
allow my students to breathe in life.

My Feet 
This part 
 
of me that desires to walk alongside  
my others in their learning journey  
and to provide them with support  
(to carry them when needed)  
and to guide them along their chosen path.

The path that goes in many different directions,  
as will the path of my students,  
as each of them maps out their goals and aspirations and follows the road  
…some the road less travelled.  
helping them to stand tall,  
on both feet,  
grounded to the earth,  
and to self.  
 
Walking towards the horizon,  
Coming face to face  
With another horizon  
One another’s horizon  
Bridging one with the others  
 
Part of me and part of you…  
Part of self and part of other  
Parting  
like a lump of clay,  
We shall acknowledge the “otherness”  
 
Of one another  
And become a part of one another’s whole.

In Quest of Myself

by Yuvleen Sidhu, student

Beginning my journey to understand myself, 
Investigating self-doubt, anxiety, and mood swings I met,
Overwhelmed, frustrated, and tired throughout,
I asked myself from where all these feelings sprout.

Some answers were not obvious at first,
Addressing the trauma I experienced and heard,
Over the years as time flew,
The suffering became inescapable too.

‘GIVE UP’ and ‘IGNORE’ and keep going I thought,
But pieces of my soul were being tossed,
Developing, validating, and emotional support.
Was necessary for nourishment and growth.

Understanding, cognizance, and appreciation I quested,
Self-advocacy, realization, and regulation,
The key components,
On which it all rested.

Finding motivation, and peace was the aim,
Reinforcing appreciation and self-love changed the game,
Everyday I remembered to be kind to myself,
Self-compassion and I became wonderful friends 

Today when I comprehend my journey this far,
Sowing the seeds of support for all,
I knew the beginning had to be with me,
As there is nothing I can do if I grapple and flee.