Our students have been working hard on their "My Life as a Playlist" memoirs this year. For the project, they write of a snapshot memory that is associated with a song. The song is to represent that moment in their life. I like to write alongside my students and show them revision firsthand. Here is my writing that I am working on: "walk the Line" by Johnny CashIt was just another night, except that it wasn’t. We had played cards together hundreds of times. Our notebook laid on our sticky kitchen table. The notebook was filled with countless points etched and scratched out with hasty pencil and pen marks. Games that were started and cancelled because someone was winning by too much, or new family members joined in on the fun. Yes, it was just another night. Except that it wasn’t, because it was the last time we played cards together happily and carefree. In the months to come our card games would change. The setting would turn from our warm kitchen table to cold hospital trays, waiting rooms, and hospice beds.
My phone laid on the table as my dad sat in awe in front of me. He was amazed to learn of Spotify for the first time. A classically old school man, he refused to acknowledge anything other than the dusty tape deck that sat on top of our antique dresser in our family room. Thrifted bluegrass tunes sat in front of it, CDs filled with country crooners and opera fanatics. He was amazed by the collection of artists playing through the tiny speaker, the sheer magnitude of how much music was available to me at my fingertips without a CD or a tape player. He happily requested song after song, hoping to find one melody that this technological wonder didn’t possess. He sang along to every tune. His baritone voice wrapped the room, and those of us within it, in comfort. His whistles sounded like those of a songbird perched outside. Sometimes when I think of him, I still hear the melodies as if they were yesterday. We played until Saturday turned to Sunday. We laughed until our bellies were sore. We scratched new scores into the pad of paper, filling our dollar store notepad with even more victories and losses. It didn’t really matter who won. What mattered was the impressed look on his face as I sang along to lyric he had worried I’d forgotten. The songs from our road trips, from our judo nights, or our trips to King’s Diner. Yes, it was a night like any other, except that it wasn’t.
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AuthorHi! I'm Mrs. MP and I teach grade seven English! I'm so excited for you to learn along with me Archives
January 2022
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