Wow. I'm just an earth urchin.

Sue.

This is really great! You should blog the directions so we all can try it.

Jean

DIRECTIONS TAKEN FROM A WEBSITE ON WRITING ASSIGNMENTS

Where Are You From?

This is a repost from November, 2003. I still get visitors or trackbacks from this one. It is a fun exercise in learning about the small things that give us our identities with the place or places we are from.

George Ella Lyons is an Appalachian author and poet with a long list of children's books to her credit. Her poem, Where I'm From, begins in this way: I am from clothespins, from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride. I am from the dirt under the black porch. (Black, glistening it tasted like beets.)

Each of us is from a place that is more than a dot on the map. Every experience that we can recall has left its mark on who we are. Nobody is from Clorox, but can't you smell the laundry room at the poet's house as a little girl?

I'd like to make a suggestion-- not just to the 'writers' who read this, but to everyone. Actually, putting on my teacher hat: this is your assignment --

Read Where I From, all of the poem is here.

Then, write your own version-- where you're from. Here's the format, the remainder of the form is in the "continue reading" section if you want to try this worthwhile exercise. Cut and paste it into a word processor to work on later. (This is a borrowed idea, not mine, but worthwhile, I think, and meant to be passed along.)

You might be surprised what you find as you rummage around in those dusty old trunks--your personality, your family history and traits, and the places you've called home--as you complete the poem with your own memories and facts.

I think it would be a joy to read this personalized poem from a group of bloggers who "sort of" know each other. This could extend the depth of bond between strangers. The same thing applies within a family. Consider you and your spouse each filling in your own blanks, from your own unique perspective. If you don't want to post it or send a link to it to Fragments, maybe this would make a cherished gift to give your children. I'm willing to bet they will learn something about 'where you're from' that they did not know.

I will repost "Where I'm From" (the Fred version) on Friday. Maybe as the week rolls along, you'll post links to your version that you put up on your websites. It will be interesting to see the small, peculiar things we each select to define where we are from.

This may be a silly idea, but that hasn't stopped me before, why raise my standards now!? You can read some of the comments and completed poems from November, 2003, here--to get you started.

For the WHERE I'M FROM Format: Click the READ MORE link below:

I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.

I am from the _______ (home description... adjective, adjective, sensory detail).

I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail)

I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).

I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).

From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).

I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.

I'm from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).

From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).

I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).

So. Where are YOU from?

A few of you have pondered where you're from using the structure, more or less, of the poem we've used for this activity (read several from links in the comments to the earlier post.) A few more have said they'd send links to theirs today or soon. And as usual, when I read them, I see bits of common experience, but I also see phrases I have not a clue as to their meaning or significance for the writer. This ambiguity gives their memories a certain mystery. I want to know more. Explain: there's got to be a story here.

If I were going further with this vehicle of self-exploration and writing, I'd say ", choose one phrase or line from your completed poem and tell us what that is all about and why it is significant to you."

You know, you could tell quite a larger story about most every blank you filled in as part of this exercise. Oven-baked Saran Wrap? What's that all about? (See below.)

In fact, it might be an interesting project to see if you could weave all these related phrases of your history into a thousand-word memoir framed around these passages about yourself that have come together in the Where I'm From poem. Think about it. Write it. Post it.

My version of WIF (along with a short explanation about the Saran Wrap) follows in the READ MORE section that will appear when you click it.

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I am from the peaceful banks of a creek with no name; from JFG, toast and blackberry jam and home-made granola.

I am from "a house with double porches," a room filled with good ghosts and creek laughter in the mornings before first light.

I am from Liriodendron and Lindera, butterfly bush and mountain boomers

I am from Dillons and Harrisons, Betty Jean and Granny Bea-- frugal and long-lived, stubborn and tender, quick to laugh. Or cry.

I am from a world whose geography my children know better than I, from a quiet valley where I am the proprietor and world authority of its small wonders.

From barn loft secret passwords and children who can fly if they only try.

I am from oven-baked Saran Wrap and colds caught from jackets worn indoors.

I am from pire in the blood Baptists, from the cathedral made without hands, the church in the wildwoods, the covenant of grace.

I'm from the Heart of Dixie, son of Scarlett O'hara. From War Eagle, Wiffle, UAB and PT, from Walnut Knob's blue ridge and the soft shadows of Goose Creek.

From a "fast hideous" dresser and a home body from Woodlawn, from a grandfather I never knew that I can blame for my love of nature and my stubbornness, they tell me.

I am from fragments, the faint smell of wood smoke, and familiar walks among trees I know by name, from HeresHome and good stock. A man can hardly ask to be from more. --Fred First, November 2003

I am from oven-baked Saran Wrap...

When Ann and I were twenty-two and newly married, my grandmother, Bea, often gave us leftovers from meals she had prepared. They would go home with us in a pyrex dish or Corningwear bowl covered with plasticwrap.

Knowing how new-to-the-world we were (but never quite as naive as she must have thought), Bea would always remind Ann as we left to be sure and take the Saran Wrap off the dish before she put in the oven.

Two decades later when we had the last meal Bea prepared for us before rheumatoid arthritis robbed her of her independence, she gave us leftovers to take home. "And remember to take the Saran Wrap off before you cook it" she reminded us. Yes, Bea, we'll always remember.

Posted by fred1st at 05:24 AM

Wow, this is quite an assigment. I'll have to try it, hope others do too.

Jean