“What does an iguana have to do with poetry?”

That’s a question I recently asked some 5th grade boys, right before launching into my school presentation about poetry, which included a reading of my book, “Iguana in the Road.”

As a member of a local writer’s group, I’d been invited to participate in a literacy program for city youth. I was excited to be around students again, after having been retired from school psychology for 4 years.

I arrived early, hoping to set up my presentation before the students arrived. Unfortunately, I soon learned that there would be a substitute teacher that day. 

Then I was informed by the Literacy Specialist that it was a “tough class.”

I knew I could handle that, but what ruffled me a bit was when my PowerPoint presentation wasn’t immediately recognized by the smart board in the classroom.

It was 8:00 a.m. on a Friday before a long weekend, and I’d been hoping my bright, colorful PowerPoint slides would wake the kids (and me) up, and keep us awake throughout the presentation.

I had a Plan B: I’d brought notes. But luckily, I didn’t have to use them! After about 5 minutes, a helpful staff member got the technology working, and my PowerPoint was up on the big screen. Yay! Now all I had to do was inspire a bunch of young boys to write poetry.

I began by holding up a cute stuffed iguana and asking, “What does an iguana have to do with poetry?” Admittedly, it wasn’t a fair question. They couldn’t possibly have known what I was leading up to. But one brave soul raised his hand.

“Eat,” he said.

“Eat?” I asked. He nodded.

“Okay … they both eat?” He nodded again. What could he have meant?

Maybe I misheard him, and what he really said was “neat” (as in “I like both”) or “feet” (as in the rhythmic pattern of poetry). In either case, maybe he should have been teaching the class instead of me.

I decided to move on quickly – and to keep the presentation lively. (A teacher friend of mine once told me that teaching is something like acting.) I believe my strategy worked, because the boys paid attention and were respectful and engaged throughout the entire hour.

I think having props like my cuddly stuffed iguana helped. I also had brought lots of books. I began by showing them a picture book about Gwendolyn Brooks, the first Black person to ever win a Pulitzer Prize. She won the prize for poetry, I informed them, and she wrote her first poem when she was seven years old. They seemed surprised by that.

Next, I read short quotes about poetry from three famous poets: Amanda Gorman, William Shakespeare, and Kwame Alexander. They’d never heard of Amanda or Kwame, but one boy not only recognized the Bard, but knew his name.

I animatedly read a page from Kwame Alexander’s novel-in-verse, “The Crossover.” When I mentioned that the book is about twin brothers who play basketball, one boy raised his hand. “I’m a twin!” he said. When I said that the main character in the book is named Josh, he grinned. “I’m Josh!” he exclaimed. I was glad I’d chosen “The Crossover” to include in my talk. (P.S. I love that book!)

I then listed the main ingredients in a poem (rhyme, rhythm, and repetition), read a poem as an example of rhyme, showed a photo of my dog (because kids like dogs, right?), and read a poem I’d written about my dog that used repetition.

I added other ingredients, such as comparison (simile and metaphor), and I read a poem my own daughter had written in 4th grade – one that used a metaphor. I wanted them to know as much about poetry as I could squeeze into an hour, without boring them to death.

I also stressed that a poem does not need to be long. As an example, I put Muhammad Ali’s famous poem (“Me. Whee!”) up on the board.

Then I dramatically announced that there were NO RULES! in poetry. I wanted them to relax and feel free to write whatever was in their hearts.

After that, I invited them to think of a topic and brainstorm a few words that could eventually become a poem. Classroom helpers passed out paper and pencils that had been provided by a grant from a local organization.

Several students asked for help with spelling. As I spelled out a word for one boy, he wrote it from right to left, each letter reversed. Some kids didn’t write at all. One child kept his head down on his desk most of the time. I knew from experience that could mean he hadn’t slept the night before, was hungry, or maybe was just trying to keep his emotions together. Whether they wrote or not wasn’t important to me. I was just glad they were listening, because I was hoping to plant some poetry seeds that day.

In the 5 minutes they had to think of topics and write, the majority of kids did write. I’m not sure I could have done that! Their rough drafts ranged from just a few words to whole paragraphs. Several volunteered to stand and read their works-in-progress to the class.

They wrote about football (one poem was a play-by-play description of a game), and about their pets. One of my favorite creations was this one:

“Chocolate, dog, no, no, no.”

Good use of repetition! And it says so much in just five words. After reading his poem aloud, the author explained what he meant (that dogs shouldn’t eat chocolate). This is a clear, concise, rhythmic poem, written in just a few minutes by someone who might never have written a poem before in his life. Bravo!

I concluded my presentation with a reading of “Iguana in the Road,” and moved on to my next assignment, a bilingual 5th grade class down the hall. (The school I visited is the largest bilingual elementary school in my city.) 

Right away, I noticed a difference. The students seemed older, taller, quieter. They didn’t raise their hands or respond to my questions … not right away, at least.

But by the end of the presentation? Wow. Not only were they participating, but they were actively encouraging each other to participate, chanting their friends’ names to get them to stand on the “stage” (the front of the room) and to share their poems.

While they wrote, I offered assistance. As with the former class, many asked for help with spelling. One girl asked if it was okay to write in Spanish, or if she had to write in English. I told her it was fine to write in Spanish, and then I mentioned that to the rest of the class. As a result, several kids wrote poems in Spanish.

Since many were reluctant to read aloud, I offered to read their poems for them, including the ones in Spanish. At least ten children handed me poems to read, about half of them in Spanish. I think they were pleasantly surprised that I could read and understand them!

Thanks to the community grant, each child in the participating elementary schools received a free book that day! I was so grateful for the privilege of being part of this program and being among so many creative, talented, and helpful people.