Where I Am From

I’ve never really understood poetry.  I was not exposed to it in an academic setting and I’ve never bothered to try to understand it on my own.  It’s a failing I hope to rectify. 

Limericks are the closest I’ve gotten to poetry.  Like most young people I’ve giggled at limericks, most of them aren’t for polite company so they are perfect for budding adolescents.  I won’t repeat any of them here, you’ll just have to trust me when I say they are usually naughty but funny.     

When Monty and I saw a class offered by New Adventures in Learning to discuss the poem Where I Am From, and to write our own poem, we were quick to sign up for the experience.    The original poem, Where I am From,  was written in 1993 by Kentucky poet laureate George Ella Lyon. 

The poem was embraced  by the Kentucky Arts Council and turned into a world wide project. Teachers have given it to their students all over the world.  From housewives and professors to refugee camps, and prison facilities, the poem has taken on a life of its own .  The Arts Council in Kentucky completed the project with over seven hundred poems from eighty-three countries. 

The concept of the poem is relatively simple, after reading some samples, the instructor provided a template to use to write our poem.  You can call the template a prompt or a fill in the blank assignment.  To be completed and read to the class at the next session. 

 We read the original poem by George Ella Lyon and discussed a bit about her background.  The name George is distinctly masculine in our culture but this family is from Appalachia where they have their own culture, distantly  different from the rest of America.   

George is named after her mother’s brother, George,  and her mothers sister, Ella,  so you have George Ella.  I think they might have gone with Georgia, but that’s just me. Monty’s family had some of this unusual naming thing going on.  His mother had the beautiful name, Lilly, but was called Bill by family and friends, her cousin’s name was Junior but always referred to as  Bob.  One of Bill’s favorite sisters was Gordon.  At least there wasn’t a boy named Sue!

Here is the original poem Where I am From

By George Ella Lyon –

(Think about how her life was lived growing up)  

I am from clothespins, from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride

I am from the dirt under the back porch (Black, glistening, it tasted like beets)

I am from the forsythia bush, the Dutch elm whose long-gone limbs

I remember as if they were my own

I’m from fudge and eyeglasses,  from Imogene and Alafair

I’m from the know-it-alls and the pass-it-ons, from Perk up! and Pipe down!

I’m from He restoreth my soul with a cottontail lamb and ten verses I can say myself

I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch, fried corn and strong coffee

From the finger my grandfather lost to the auger, the eye my father shut to keep his sight

Under my bed was a dress box spilling old pictures, a sift of lost faces to drift beneath my dreams

I am from those moments — snapped before I budded — leaf-fall from the family tree

Typical of poetry, the poem is open to interpretation and your feelings about what George Ella’s early life was about.  I’ll leave it to your imagination.  

We were sent home from this class with a goal to return with our own personal poem.  So off we went on our journey to write  our story.  The poems are personal, I will share mine, but you’ll have to talk to Monty if you want to see his.  

Where I am From – Carrie 

I am from swamp coolers, lawn sprinklers, and dusty roads

From tacos, Sonoran dogs, and Margaritas

I am from the tiny two bedroom house on a dirt road in a cowboy town where we searched the desert for sand garnets and played in the arroyos 

I am from desert cactus and spiny shrubs. The smell of creosote bushes  on a monsoon afternoon and the crown of saguaro blossoms like top hats on giants.

I am from pot roast for Sunday dinner and Swedish pancakes for supper, Tuesday night spaghetti made from elbow macaroni and tomato soup.

From Swing the Statue, Red Rover and Mother May I,

I am from Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry and Johnny Cash

From a family where mom and dad square danced in the moonlight, played canasta with friends, read western novels and ladies magazines

From being told to stop making funny faces, stand up straight, empty the wastebaskets, and don’t eat mother’s chocolate, it will give you a headache.

I am from starched crinolines, poodle skirts and saddle shoes

I am from tennis racquets, pickleball paddles, and bocce balls, sunshine and beautiful sunsets.   

 From parents who loved me and siblings who have always been close.  

I am from a whispered thank you to God and quiet requests for blessings for my family and friends.

I found this to be a fun and engaging exercise and I think there are endless poem possibilities for each of us to write our life poem.  I can’t wait to update mine in ten years or so.  

Where Are You From?  Go ahead, get started!