On ‘Bubbles’: St. Catherine’s Students Publish Poetry

Students journaling in the class Kiva during their Writer's Workshops hours. 

So it's time for Writer's Workshop, which is a class where we study a writing genre. And, almost every time at the beginning of the class I hear my teacher say, "Alright, get your planner, notebook, and something to write with." Then I stand up, groan, say how tired I am, and move on.

In this specific unit or genre, we studied poetry. We had to read a variety of famous poems, which our class calls "mentor texts," to help us think about what our poems should look like. We read deep poems on how horrible everything was all the way to a poem about green chile, and then back to Shakespeare and Emily Dickinson, blah blah blah. Needless to say, I was not interested at all. I don't like those poems because, first off, I didn't understand them, and they're about things I didn't care about. Like "Contact Lenses" by Andre Lorde, which probably is about something super deep, but all I imagine is someone struggling to put in their contact lenses and having to wear glasses. So that means nothing to me.

Liberty Meyn spending time journaling.

But I found one poem that I loved called "Dusting" by Julia Alvarez. This poem in particular really stood out to me because even though it was a small poem it packed a huge punch. The poem created an image in my head of someone's voice and imagination being wiped away with a towel, and even though it was a smaller poem, it made me feel sad that anyone ever felt that way. So after reading that poem, I wanted mine to pack that punch in a few words as well.

After finishing with the mentor texts, we flipped through our writer's notebooks to see if any of the thoughts in our notebooks could be converted into poems. I lethargically looked through my notebook thinking none of my old writing would work. Then I saw this entry that was called "Bubbles," and it was about why I liked something as simple as bubbles. I thought, well, dusting is also something very simple so I chose bubbles to be my inspiration for my poem. In the actual entry the writing seemed very happy, so I decided to write my poem happily in the beginning, because, well, I hadn't figured out what my big punch would be.

So my poem started with "Bubbles/ Never angry/ Never sad." Not bad, just saying my opinion on bubbles. Then the next moment, class was over. Dang, I was just getting somewhere. So, the next class, I kept thinking, okay bubbles, well, I remember when I was little I would always see how far they went before they burst. So I wrote, "But what they all have in common,/ is one day they pop." Right? They all will eventually pop. My punch was forming, but what would I want to have linger in people's mind? I kept thinking and I thought our world isn't very good. Because there's war, hunger, greed, anger. Then at that moment, I knew what would be my punch. But, how could I put that into a poem about bubbles? And I thought, well, those things pop my bubble. And then I knew what my closing lines would be.

Student poetry hanging on the walls of Fioza. 

After that my writing teacher explained to us that we were going to publish the poems in this super cool, hipster, weird coffee shop. We all looked at photos of Fioza, (the hipster coffee shop) and all of us thought it was amazing. But then we all suddenly got nervous. For me I was not confident at all with publishing. It took a little while to get the poems up, but some friends and I couldn't stand the anticipation, so we decided to do it ourselves. After an amazing basketball practice, we went to Fioza, got some coffee, and put the poems up. And took lots of photos with our amazing iced coffees and poems. And still the poems are there in their triangular formation to this very day.

BUBBLES

Bubbles
Never angry,
Never sad,
Always happily floating
Big ones,
Small ones,
Pretty,
Ugly,
But what they all have in common
Is one day they *pop*
Like a kernel of corn blasted with heat
Popped by pressure,
Popped by hate,
Popped by sadness,
Popped by anger,
Which the world has created
To pop
My happy little bubble