Think about what you and your partner analyzed today while reading Walt Whitman's poem "I Hear America Singing."
As a class, we're going to compose our own version of "I Hear America Singing"; our version is called, "I Hear Arapahoe Singing."
Please add your own verse in your own voice to this poem. You can add a single line, or you can add an entire stanza. The tone is up to you.
Enjoy!
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I hear Arapahoe singing;
The interrupting bells chime;
The resting tongues awaken to gabber about Sally, or Friday night, or the big game;
The silence of friends embracing and enemies glaring lasts for a moment, then surrenders to the surrounding din;
Another ding sounds, and a hush quickly creeps through the halls.
Now Tommy sits with no talkative companion other than his growling stomach, thanks to third hour;
Kathy, quiet in halls, but now chatty with her few companions giggles about her latest crush;
The racket subsides as the teacher pleads, then scolds for the students to listen.
The students cry out for their voices to be heard amongst the tremendous masses of students that awaits;
They appear calm and collected, when in reality, are overwhelmed with the stress of the days gone by, full of homework, tests, and the many expectations set upon them;
Another sound erupts, that only Tommy can hear, reminding him of the loneliness the dim cafeteria will bring.
I hear Arapahoe singing...
Each table in the cafeteria speaks its own language and possesses its own people;
Shoes scuff and squeak against the tiled floor in an empty and supposedly closed hallway;
Students tap their pencils against wooden desks in thought;
Everyones' minds are somewhere not in the classroom during Spanish, and the profesora reprimands;
Teenagers chat boisterously in the school theatre while practicing auditions, and can't wait 'till sixth hour ends.
I hear Arapahoe singing
As laughter fills the halls
Others just simply pass in a plain quietness
Gossip leaps from mouth to mouth
To see who it can harm next
A mad dash is made to get to class
In order to beat the bell
Others frolic across the street
To restaurants galore
A bagel here, a burrito there
In quest to satisfy that everlasting hunger
Eventually we venture home
To begin our never-ending work
In hopes to get some minimal free time
Or a brief nap
I hear Arapahoe singing
as the diverse sound of students'
conversations echo around the cafeteria some laughing,
some talking,and some
giving each other knowing
looks across the room.
The crowd noisily disperses
as the bell rings in triumph
amongst the groans of the students
returning to class, leaving their friends sitting at the table
with a warm Starbucks in their hand
I hear Arapahoe singing;
The voices seem to shine with their own clarity and understanding;
Yet there is so much these young people cannot understand;
Their life, their times, their friends, all foreign;
What to have for lunch, what's on the test 6th hour, what the teacher is saying in math class, all unknown;
In this strange and glorious chaos, reigns student minds alone;
All hoping, seeking, reaching for their own unknown
I hear Arapahoe singing,
Beneath words, jovial, trivial,
false images falsify smiles;
The choir sings in whispers,
while cacophony destroys us.
Those who sit, anticipate,
a brighter day, a truer hope,
shadowed by the inconvenient,
unconcern of those alone.
I hear arapahoe singing,
its song in silence weeps,
it fights its way through;
no way out, but distant light.
I hear Arapahoe singing,
The static and loud murmur of hurried conversation that fills the halls,
The bells that schedule a day filled with laugher, chaos, and stress,
Misunderstanding, confusion, and clarity that blend together in harmony and discord to create Arapahoe's song.
The lyrics are foreign to some and familiar to others,
Each listener and vocalist straining to find meaning in a day seen through sleep-tired eyes,
Or simply struggling to survive the next hour.
I hear Arapahoe singing;
The teachers copying papers, as they prepare for class
students shuffle through the overcrowded halls, attempting to reach their class on time;
The hoots and hollars fill the air, and everybody's loud;
Class seems a million miles away,
never to be reached;
The doorway's growing smaller, and children becoming thin;
the opportunity is shrinking, to merely nothing at all;
the teachers stand, the students learn;
or at least that's why their there,
and as the day goes on;
The hallway's fill with hoots and hollars;
As Arapahoe Sings...
I hear Arapahoe singing
As we rush around the congested halls
Some clustered in groups, some striding down the hall alone
Heavy bags and backpacks upon our shoulders
Some faces laughing while some remain expressionless
Headed toward the library to tackle the mountain of homework
Or across the street to get a yummy morsel of food or drink
The high-pitched buzz of the bell sounds
Quickening the pace of the masses as they venture toward another class
Waiting for the final high-pitched buzz
To allow them to go home
The cliques tap their heals on the hall tiles;
Freshman drag their feet as they are let out of an impossible test;
Teachers chat about grades and new teaching techniques;
All together the Arapahoe body sighs a relief;
Even if today was not the day there is always tomorrow to rely upon
I Hear Arapahoe Singing
The sleepy singing with their coffees in hand;
The happy singing as they skip through the halls darting from group to group;
The stressed singing as they dash to their locker for a final glace at their notes;
The calm singing as they peer though the madness.
The teachers singing as they collect the stack of papers to which they will devote hours of labor;
The lunch ladies singing as they prepare their best and hope for approval;
The janitors singing as they make the world a cleaner, healthier place;
The administrators singing as they patrol the halls, ensuring safety and tranquility.
I hear Arapahoe singing.
Walking through the halls an image of friendly faces, enemies, and attitude.
Clicks of friends sit with their hands on their thrusted outward hips.
Exchanges of awkward glances and stares occur with everyone who passes by.
Gossip, laughter, smiles, love, stories, drama, and secrets are revealed through the lips of all who speak.
Deep inside of every click are individuals, yearning to break through their masks and venture off into a place unknown; a person who struggles to be better than themselves.
Students fight for their future with all their hearts and decided which path they want to walk upon.
I hear Arapahoe singing.
I hear Arapahoe Singing
The bellowing cacophony of uniqueness
Dimmed slightly by the song of conformity
An unruly clumping of social classes
Scattering at the bright toll of a bell
A beating rhythm is pounded out;
The pulse of the masses starting their day
Single file erupts into chaos
As shoving and pushing take over the hallways
Each to their own, making their way to lectures
A strange oxymoron of unity and individualism
I hear Arapahoe singing;
The students babbling amongst friends in attempt to comunicate
Cell phones ringing like a chorus of bells
The teachers instructing the masses in their knowledge
The administration babbling about the latest events of the schools
The musicians creating a tapestry of melodies and rythem
The Athleats fighting to the drum beat of the Arapahoe spirit and the battle cries of the loyal fans
The under-achiever dancing in singing over getting an A
The scholar taking his knowledge to new hights
I hear arapahoe singing
Now kelly hears a song so loud a sound so beautiful but she sits alone at the table of rejects. No one is allowed to say hi to her due to the sought out accepted stupid rules, most people think the "rules" stop dramma but kelly just knows they cause pain.
I hear Arapahoe singing.
The loud jeering echoes through the halls
as upperclassmen ridicule the newbies.
The freshmen, they're out of place.
The different stereotypes
stand in their designated places
throughout the school.
Each unique and significant.
The bell rings,
everyone must go to class.
A silence whispers through the halls.
All that is heard is the click-clack
of a pair of shoes.
Someone is late to class.
I hear Arapahoe Singing…
As the students lounge in their seats,
Pencils tapping impatiently on desks.
The scratch of chalk echoes on the old fashioned chalkboard,
accompanied by the occasional burst of laughter,
and the soft hum of teenage chatter.
Yet all this is background noise,
to the tick tock of the synchronized clocks.
They softly measure the minutes,
restraining the restless students,
counting away the hours of lives.
tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…
I hear Arapahoe singing,
as the student’s desire to live
radiates off the walls,
each with a unique voice and dream.
I hear Arapahoe singing;
I hear the students banter fill the halls.
Girls giggle and smile.
Boys playfully push each other around.
It’s just another high school.
I hear Arapahoe singing;
Through the classrooms gentle hum.
Students fill their heads with knowledge,
As they wait for the bell to ring,
Signaling them away to their next class.
I hear Arapahoe singing;
It’s homecoming week.
Festivities fill the air.
Warrior pride.
It is our school.
We are our story.
I hear Arapahoe singing.
I hear Arapahoe singing:
The jocks walking proudly down the hall excited about tonights big game.
The cheerleaders dance about darting through the hallway to their group of friends
The teachers stand tall watching their hard work being payed off as a class takes a test
The choir's voices ring clearly through the halls brightening everyones day
I hear Arapahoe singing
The Cross Country team as the lace up their shoes and prepare for a run.
The pack of a 100 warroirs all running to the same beat yet one that is all there own.
Running as one, finishing as one, accomplishing as one.
I hear Arapahoe singing;
Not just those in choir,
all of different talents,
drifting through the halls.
As class belongs to class,
the end bell rings;
Yet warriors belong to warriors,
And raise the spirit everlong.
I hear Arapahoe singing,
The loud ringing of the bell, filling the ears of every student as they are bursting to have some freedom
The pattering of the feet as everyone rushes to their next class
The yelling of voices trying to get a word in with their friends
The shoves of the seniors pusing around the scared freshman
Then everyone disappears and the voices of the teachers fill the air
I hear Arapahoe singing, the students shouting their songs down the hall. The stops between classes adding a new accompaniment.
I hear Arapahoe singing
each in their own groups
afraid to step outside the bounds
singing a song that sounds good to the whole
only small traces of individuality trying to be heard above the noise of this conformed student body.
I hear Arapahoe singing; melodies of education echo in my head;
Students scurry down the hallway, the friction from their feet warming the cold tile;
The ring of the bell alerts it is time for class: a noise that causes excitement for some and installs dread within others;
Pencils tap on the desktops as they prepare for a day of vigorus scribing;
The song of the broom doing its sole duty of sweeping the floor is performed by the lone janitor in the empty corridor;
Teachers cry out in desperation; a compassionate, yet forceful sound resonating in the minds of those listening;
Gymnasium walls reverberate with the pride of the Warriors:
"Our pride in you will ever grow 'cause that's the spirit of Arapahoe!";
The noises never cease;
Unity joins this music together emitting a beautiful song.
I hear Arapahoe singing...
From the students in class,
daydreaming of what Friday night holds.
To the students in the hallway,
awaiting anxiously the high-pitched bell,
signaling that it is time to take the test they never studied for.
From the teacher that perches in front of the chalkboard,
hoping the students are learning, or even listening.
To the administration, silently dwelling within the main office,
going over important files, knowing it's their responsibility to keep the school running smoothly.
From the massive intimidating football team,
prideful of their school as they prepare for that upcoming game,
To the students within the walls of the theater,
performing with passion and letting their voices be heard.
From all faculty, to all students at Arapahoe, their one powerful voice sounds.
I arrived at your site based on K. Fisch's recommendation.
I know that this was a school assignment, but I appreciate how these poets were able to boldly share their particular viewpoint of life at Arapahoe with the rest of the world. Just as Whitman tried to encapsulate his viewpoint of America/Americans, I believe that the varied voices of Arapahoe combine to form a unique window into world that a visitor to the school would find.
Is there any way that you can post your poems on your individual pages so that readers can comment on particular lines or stanzas?
Thank you for your time and poetic effort.
I too arrived on your site from Mr. Fisch's blog. Being an administrator from New Jersey, I was impressed by your verse and comforted that your high school experiences in Colorado are virtually identical to those of our students here on the East Coast. Well done.
A third "arrival" from the Fischbowl.
I really appreciate how you've taken a "classic" poem and made it your own - well done!
Wow! Impressive work Arapahoe Students. I follow Mr. Fisch's blog and was invited to see how you and your teacher have explored Whitman's poetry. The verses are loaded with creative imagery and word choice. Your descriptions, vivid and timely. Well Done.
Ms.Niemeyer
Technology Integration Specialist
WI
I also arrived from Fischbowl. Your work is excellent! Our experiences are very much the same even in Alabama. I could see many of my students that echo your sentiments.
Another Fischbowl visitor arrives...As one who works in an office, or sometimes from the kitchen table, and other times attending meetings - your comments are true for the many places people gather. Nice job!
And yet another Fischbowl person! Fantastic! I love the way you've used the blog to put your work together - and poems of such high standards! I work with teachers in England and will be showing them your blog as a brilliant example of students' work!
It's wonderful to "hear" your singing. You obviously understand the power of words and the importance of poetry.
Another Fischbowl reader (and former English/American Lit teacher)
Great story as for me. It would be great to read something more about that matter. Thanks for giving this info.
Joan Stepsen
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