Two photos — both taken by teacher Meg Roa who was kind enough to invite me to her school. Although this is common place in Southern climes, it still seems odd to me that the school hallways are on the outside of the buildings, the classroom doors opening to the elements like Motel 6. Atlantic HS circles its classrooms like Conestogas. Within the inside courtyard students lounge on planters and gather in clusters, same as in Cleveland — except with a whole lot more sunshine. So when we began to write our poems of conflict and an “almost fight,” I had to ask, “What do you call that area where you pass between classes?” Answer: They call it the hallway. A remnant of the old days — kind of like calling an ITunes release an “album” when hardly any kids around have ever laid their hands on one of those giant CDs.
Great visit, great writers. Wish I had had more time to hear more of the poems. Time goes so quickly. Whoosh. We wrote some, performed some. Hope some more poems are loosened up by the exercise. Hope hope hope.