Sometime in my first year as a teacher, I gave a lesson on haiku.  My students needed to learn what syllables were, and how to pay enough attention to them to be able at least to count them, and I figured that since haiku were simple and short, and since you can’t hardly write a bad one, they’d make an ideal introduction.  I hoped that by manipulating English into an expressive template they would take the opportunity to become more analytical about and also more playful with the language, that they would take ownership of it and pay more attention to some of its parts.  This was probably one of my most successful lessons, and many of my kids started writing haiku all the time.  I eventually decided that on every test students would be able to earn five bonus points by composing an original haiku, on any theme or subject (sometimes — say, around holidays — I might make suggestions, but usually not).  

So I’ve compiled quite a collection of my favorite student haiku.  The organization of my papers and miscellanea is still suffering from the recent move, but I will try to post at least the highlights here eventually.

But for now, something related and different: since I was reading hundreds of haiku most every week, I had haiku on the brain, and it started to spread.  Sometimes — always, I admit, in meetings and classes — friends and I would write collaborative haiku, one person writing a line and passing it on, the other writing a line and returning it for a resolution.  What follows are the haiku that Molina and I wrote in this fashion while compulsorily attending the Jackson Public Schools “convocation” for teachers and administrators in the gymnasium of Jackson State University in August of 2006.  Most of them pertain to what was being said or done by the speaker or presenter in the moment they were written.  A few of them might make more sense if you have some familiarity with the particular wasteland that is professional pedagogical theory, or if you know some of our friends.

 

So many speeches

And yet so little is said

I pledge to the flag

 

Ten teams, three tigers

Grambling’s view of the pine bluff

Putting shine on shit

 

Graves for the justice

Not to mention for reason

Listen forever

 

How much bullshit fits?

As long as you tickle them

It goes easier

 

I have a goatee

You do, too: goatees for all!

What would Jacob think?

 

Orange tie, power

How  can I find his tailor?

The clothes make the man

 

[After some comment about church]

Yep, I’m a heathen

Heathenism sure is fun

Let’s go eat some pie

 

[After a (black) speaker made a joke about white people not sending their kids to the public schools, and the (mostly black, but also white) audience laughed]

Laugh at racism

Just refrain from eye contact

It can be fun, too

 

Let’s get on the bus

That’s not a euphemism

Like your mom’s euphemism

 

[During performance of The Battle Hymn of the Republic]

We love our Jesus

Who needs an eternal soul?

Can truth even march?

 

Take it from the top:

Jesus is a good buddy

Bad taste in music

 

Whose truth is marching?

Whoever sings the loudest

Loudness equals truth

 

Teacher discount, please

Can discount refer to time?

Just keep your receipts

 

Teachers pat own backs

Student achievement today

We love each other

 

Neither good nor great

At least we’ve been entertained

What good teachers do

 

Learning is free lunch

But there’s no such thing as that

Just keep your receipts

 

School starts on Monday

It continues Tuesday

Same shit, different day

 

What is he saying?

What is truth, Pontius Pilate?

What isn’t truth, man?

 

My truth is bigger

Doc says I’m a late bloomer

It lasts longer, too

 

Eat my doctorate

It’s Doctor Asshole to you.

Want to play doctor?

 

[Name expunged] plays doctor

[Name expunged] has his own office

Pee-aitch-deed your mom