Where I'm From, 2015 extended dance mix

     Another poetry month has come and gone. In spite of state testing on the horizon, we spent some time creating our "Where I'm From" poems in order to get a handle on free verse techniques. I asked that children go heavy on the sensory imagery and gather facts from at least one family member of a different generation. 
     There are at least two other posts on my blog about this activity, but this year students chose a "golden line" to include in our collective/collaborative poem.
   If a line is indented, that means it belongs to the same person who wrote the preceding line. The students are very proud of their work, and we hope you enjoy reading our family history.

“Where I’m From”

I am from a stranger time

          from a bad war and an old compass

A man who put his country before him

          And became my hero

I am from military moves all around the globe

I am from the tendrils of the Vietnam War

And my grandfather’s homecoming

I am from C-130’s in Vietnam

          To Apache helicopters in Afghanistan

And keeping vendettas

I am from a broken down town

          Gun shells everywhere

From stitches in people

to stitches in stuffed animals

I am from collections of Indian arrow heads

I am from open fields and massive mountains

From sleeping under the stars

I am from long rides to county fairs

From hooves pounding against the ground

          To get to the open

I’m from factory fresh Rolls Royces

          and dusty Chevy step sides

I am from rusty trucks and muddy boots

I am from the scratches on my knees

I am from the acne on my parents’ faces

I am from sweet tea on the front porch swing

From a cheagle running

I am from slurred words and fast talkin’

I am from corn hole and fireworks

          Until the neighbors complain

Where pranks were part of our daily routine

I am from the country mile to the city limits

from blaring Bruce Springsteen out of the old stereo in the Blazer

Pushin’ the speed limit on dirt roads without a care in the world

I am from the North and the South

I’m from the smell of horses and fresh cut grass

I’m from the quick whiff of cookies baking

I am from Florida, Ohio, Virginia,

          Each with friendships broken and repaired

I am from Puerto Rican neat freaks

I am from the Naval base in Japan

          Two baby boys brought home

          To the giddy faces of their new family

          Fighting over who gets to hold them first

I am from New Orleans

          Where the gumbo smells like vegetable soup

I am from the salty smell of the Gulf

I am from Portugal

          With soccer fanatics and day long beach trips

I am from gauchos and riding bulls

I am from a small town with big ideas

From long, loving hugs

          To sweet, short ones

I am from the grunge sound

          Of Nirvana and 4 Non Blondes

I am from Kurt Cobain concerts

          And from Onyx blaring through the Walkman

I am from Def Leppard

Days of listening to 45’s

using my hairbrush as a microphone

Old school music and fancy car shows

          Never dull or boring, a bunch of Chatty Cathys

Family of blue and green eyes

I am from weekends spent in tomato fields

          Hoping that a sweet pecan pie was hot on the stove when I got home

I am from jars of lightning bugs we’d collect at sunset

From the political disagreements in the dining room

          washed down with sweet tea

I am from big meals and bigger hearts

I am from the sound of music and joined hands

From sitting in lonely hospitals

From calls to get a cat out of a tree

          To taking a tree off of a house

I am from the feet running off the starting line

          To oars gliding against the calm, cool water

To Friday night soccer

          To Saturday morning cheers

Wrestling instead of pageants

I’m from the smell of nicotine from lit cigarettes

to Mom and Dad smoking with the windows up

I’m from the 60’s and 70’s peace movement

And pinning dead bugs on cardboard

I am from old school hip hop and sick beats

And watching Netflix in my bed

I’m from soccer every weekend

From hustling to first base

          And playing infield

Feeling muscles getting stronger with every throw

I am from summer vacations in the OBX

From barefoot summer nights on the beach

I’m from cold ocean breezes and city smog

Warm, cozy and away from the freezing winter

Jumping on the trampoline in the cool rain

Blue water and chlorine

I am from standing on the pier

From the scent of freshly baked bread out of the oven

And dunking Oreos,

          But making sure the milk doesn’t drip

On

the

couch

I am from the smell of Lysol and bleach

I am from Sunday morning church

From fussy pajamas on Christmas Eve

From working hard and playing harder

Hand-me-downs were a necessity for some

From the smell of pasta made on Italian streets

From hot tea with too much sugar

I am from beautiful outcomes and tragic mistakes

I am from a caring grandmother

I am from the highs and lows of life

Motivated by my mother’s and father’s words

The dream is still alive

From parental love that will never fade

Sister to Jesus’s disciple, Buddha’s enlightened, and the lack thereof

And making my mark upon the world

          And touching the hearts of people

I’m from never forgetting

that family is everything

          and always sticking together

For they are

          My key