A Moment I'll Remember

"Remember where you come from and celebrate it. To remember where you come from is part of where you're going." -Anthony Burgess

It may be that this idea seems obvious to you, but I've found that in the frenzy of the modern world, it's often lost in the shuffle (perhaps somewhere between the latest Buzzfeed quiz and your second cousin's status updates). We are tethered to each present moment as it passes, and often too distracted to stop and see our lives in true perspective: past, present, and future.

In a radical show of counterculturalism, then, Ms. Hughan's English III class took Burgess' advice to heart and stole a moment to step back and dwell on the past. As we finished our study of Early American Writing, we discussed the somewhat abstract concept of "origin-writing." What does it mean to write the story of one's origin? What is at stake in such an ambitious project?

In the 18th Century, various Native American tribes carefully preserved their creation myths through oral storytelling while William Bradford wrote his travelogue chronicling the Puritans' tumultuous arrival in America. Each aspired to tell the story of an entire people. Just imagine that for a second. Extraordinary, right?

In 1999, George Ella Lyon wrote a poem called "Where I'm From." Unlike Bradford and the Iroquois, she aspired to tell the story of only a single person, but even that's no small feat.

But who doesn't love a good challenge? In 2014, everyone in Ms. Hughan's English III class embraced the same project. We began by brainstorming about the objects, inside jokes, smells, children's books, foods, family sayings and names of people which, taken together, might have the potential to convey the essence of one's origin. Refined into poetry, and performed in front of one's classmates, these stories were like a tapestry with multicolored threads that were both interwoven and distinct. It's hard to describe the atmosphere of a classroom in which each person is required to become vulnerable.

"I'm from the cul-de-sac, the playing field where all the neighborhood kids gathered as if we were a team."

"I'm from the small town people and the big city believers. From get up! And get it done! I'm from holy bibles and giving trees..."

"I'm from the hard work of a southern family, whose mottos are ingrained in my skull. 'Work harder.' 'Be respected.' 'Be the strength you need.' I'm from J.D. Salinger, Bukowski, Billie Holiday and Debussy..."

"In my house, pictures cover the walls, of a girl frozen in different periods of time. She changes, she grows, living in different moments. But she always smiles. I know this because I am that that girl, and I know where I am from."

Needless to say, I was impressed and moved. All the sudden though, my students declared that it was my turn. Luckily, I had thought they might ask and had come prepared. I stepped up to the podium. For a split second, I was nervous. A moment later, I let go in the way that I am learning a teacher must—I spoke with power, conviction, and truth in a way I never have before. It was exhilarating because it was important. When called to be a leader and a role model in the classroom, one must rise to the occasion. With every word of my poem, I was telling them something else: "Remember where you came from and celebrate it."

At the end, one of my students said: "Wait, Ms. Hughan, that was so good, we want a re-match." I think I just laughed, but in my mind I was thinking: "You're on. I'll be here all year, and we're not even close to finished."