With My People: The 2022 LSU Writing Project Anthology

With My People

With My People

© Published December 2022 by the LSU Writing Project.

All rights reserved by the authors and the LSU Writing Project.

Editors: Courtney A. Brown Kyley Pulphus Designer: Kyley Pulphus Writing Project Executive Staff: Margaret-Mary Sulentic Dowell, PhD. Director, LSU Writing Project Professor of Literacy, Leadership, and Urban Education School of Education, College of Human Sciences and Education Louisiana State University Courtney A. Brown, PhD. Co-Director, LSU Writing Project Adjunct Professor School of Education, College of Human Sciences and Education Louisiana State University

Table of Contents 6 | Remembering Sassy Wheeler 8 | Introduction

9 | The 2022 Writers

by Hayley Lindner 10 | On Being Ausmerican 11 | Who Are You

by Katy Kinamore

12 | An Essay on Being "Good" 13 | Burn Out Poem

by Lynette Dutsch 14 | Too -16 | Why?

by Kyley Pulphus 17 | I Am 18 | Here Comes Trouble

by Jessica LeBlanc 19 | The Three Little Crawfish & T-Boy 24 | In Quiet Moments

by Kristen Retana 25 | My Girl 26 | The Caged Bird

by Zana Harris 27 | If Not Now, When?

28 | My Cup Runneth Over

by Courtney A. Brown 30 | If Everything Was Perfect 32 | With My People

34 | About the Facilitator

Remembering Sassy Wheeler, PhD The Louisiana State University Writing Project Site lost a beloved colleague on April 4, 2022.

Dr. Sassy C. Wheeler deeply valued teaching, she cherished her students, and she treasured her relationships with colleagues.

Dr. Wheeler was a writing scholar who was deeply interested in equity, inclusion, and

diversity. That interest surfaced in her writing pedagogical practices and her writing scholarship. Dr. Wheeler became Co-Director of the Louisiana State University Writing Project in 2018, the site’s first Black Scholar to assume a directorship position. She was a Co-PI of two recent Board of Regents Grant awards, “Writing that Works: Developing Ongoing Professional Development on Integrating“Writing That Works: Ongoing Professional Development to Improve Students’ Argumentative Writing Using Informational Texts, Grades 7-10” (2017-19), and the CCSS to Improve Student Writing.” She was also Co-PI of a National Writing Project SEED Invitational Leadership Institute Grant (2017-18) and Co-PI of a Louisiana Department of Education, Believe and Prepare Grant with City of Baker Schools, “Professional Development in Arts Integration” (2015-16).

“Sassy,” her given name and the name she preferred to be called, never operated in pretense. She was vibrant, innovative and emphatic in the expressions of her beliefs.

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Through the most intense dimensions of the pandemic, Sassy adjusted to teaching the

LSU Writing Projects’ Summer Institute online with her colleague, Courtney Brown.

Together, they made history as the first Black females to co-direct the program. Although remarkable as an accomplishment—notwithstanding Sassy’s many other accomplishments—she remained humble, never using these things to create a chasm between herself and students or colleagues. This is a rare and unique trait, one that will always make her an exceptional professional and person.

We invite LSU Writing Project alums and Teacher Consultants to express their appreciation for Dr. Wheeler.

We will dearly miss our colleague.

Margaret-Mary Sulentic Dowell, PhD Director, LSU Writing Project

Courtney A. Brown, PhD Co-Director, LSU Writing Project

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Introduction For the second consecutive year, the Annual LSU Writing Project Summer Institute fully engaged in a 100% virtual two week seminar. This summer's director, Dr. Courtney Brown focused the attention of attendees on the proverbial "elephants in the room" with respect to the many barriers to writing programs across content areas in our school systems. Attendees had the opportunity to creatively write and construct plans for pioneering writing initiatives across grade

levels and content areas in a safe, collaborative environment with like-minded educators of varied backgrounds. The community of participants increased in writing capacity with tools, innovation, and connections creating opportunities to multiply the development of ability in students across Louisiana.

Participants who complete all course requirements for the summer institute earn the badge of being a National Writing Project Teacher Consultant, signifying and recognizing their ability to deliver professional development in writing pedagogy, and earning endorsement from the LSU WP site. As is the custom of the LSU WP, an anthology of writing submissions is compiled at the end of the institute as a presentation of the journey of the institute’s participants. This year’s family of writers rendered transparent writing representing their experiences with education in the wake of all that has happened in education and in their worlds over the last year.

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The 2022 Writers

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On Being Ausmerican By: Hayley Lindner Being Ausmerican means never being Australian enough for Australia, nor American enough for America. It means being labeled as “attention seeking” for using words like “mum” and pronouncing tomato “wrong”. It means family who think your decision not to move back means you think you’re better than them. It means wondering if you even belong in this country you were brought to before you even understood what a country was. It means feeling lost in the country of your birth—

like everyone is in on some inside joke about you. It means being exoticized, it means being underestimated, and it means being viewed as an outsider.

It also means having the best of both worlds. It means having a family thousands of miles away, that, despite the distance, is rooting for you. It means representing a counter-narrative to a foreign stereotype. It means blending the parts of both until you create something beautiful and new.

It means constantly questioning – is that Australian? American? Or is it just mine?

It means isolation, but it also means membership to multiple communities. Am I an expat? A third culture kid? Neither? Both? If I stay in Louisiana, will I lose my “Australian-ness”? When does it expire? If I leave the United States, will I still be partially American?

There is so much that being Ausmerican means, and so much that it could mean. Unraveling the definition is impossible, so for now it will have to suffice that being Ausmerican is simply being me.

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Who Are You? By: Hayley Lindner Who are you to think you belong in this kindergarten class?

You must not even be five yet. I’m going to need to speak to your parents.

Who are you to think we brought you onto this earth JUST to be a teacher?

You need to realize that everyone hates their jobs and you won’t be any different.

Who are you to say this system is broken?

You’re just a freshman and you must not be trying hard enough.

Who are you to tell US that you should be placed in New Orleans?

We don’t care that you’ve been working in schools there for years, we’d rather fling you somewhere far across the country.

Who are you to ask for this lesson to be modeled?

You’ll figure it out on your own if you really care about your students.

Who are you to deviate from the curriculum with a radio-show project?

Don’t you know these kids have a test to pass?

Who are you to prioritize your own education?

Don’t you think there is more urgent work you should be doing?

Who would I be if I took any of this to heart?

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An Essay on Being "Good" By: Katy Kinamore Growing up we were told to be good girls, to do our best. This disseminated to all our roles: a good friend, a good student, a good dog mom, a good wife.

Eventually good was translated to great, to perfection, to overachieving. The pressure can be enveloping, insidious. For some, it becomes a piece of their identity, for most it becomes unsustainable. When our personal standards are this high, no one reaches our expectations.

What I’ve learned is that it is extremely difficult to be perfect, to be great, to be good all the time. It can be impossible to give 110% to everything. I’ve learned that being an overachiever is exhausting. What I’ve learned is that good enough, is enough. That we are enough, even if we don’t do all the laundry in one sitting. We are enough, even if we aren’t the best. I’ve learned that being the best and doing my best are two very different things.

Maybe being good really means to strive for greatness with grace. Maybe it means we are allowed to not be perfect all the time. Maybe it means we should supersede mediocrity and give ourselves space to breathe, to be human. Maybe it means living in our truth, even when our truth is ugly. We don’t have to be superheroes every day just because we have superpowers.

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Burn Out Poem By: Katy Kinamore It’s a weird thing being an adult

Washed up

Especially when you start as a weird kid

Undone

You have to make compromises Chipping of little pieces Rounding the edges

It’s a weird thing being a teacher Even if its all you’ve ever wanted Know what’s right Know what’s best

Turned off Burnt out How can I teach if I’m steady putting out fires?

How can I teach if I can’t do what’s best?

How can I save my students if I cannot save myself?

Escape

Until one day you don’t recognize yourself

Breathe

Until one day you stop teaching completely

Move on

Do what your told

Not quit- just pause

Teach to the test

Go back to your roots

Concessions

Rebuild

Give and take

Restart

Pick your battles

Retry

Maybe at first you don’t even realize-

Reteach

Maybe it’s been happening ever so gradually Like erosion on the coast You’ve washed away

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TooBy: Lynette Dutsch Too loud?

In what way am I too loud?

Am I too loud in a room full of men where I hold a different opinion than them?

Am I too loud when I dare to point out how your attitudes and views perpetuate systems of oppression?

Am I too loud when I dare to ask for excellence from you

Instead of the comfort of mediocrity that you have grown accustomed to?

Too Loud?

How can that be too loud?

And for that matter Who are you to say that I am too loud?

Are you my steward? Are you my keeper?

Who told you that I need a keeper?

Are you the one who was charged with my shaping and making into a member of this society?

See, I was given the space I needed and the guidance I craved And I have been fearfully and wonderfully made Into the confident and kind human that I am with intention and attention to the person I would be.

I was given a thirst for righteousness and a hunger to face injustice

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Empowered with a voice, my voice, to fight for myself and for others.

I was made with careful attention to who I would become.

For just such a time as this.

But, who are you?

To disapprove Of me?

By whose authority do you judge whether I am “too” of anything?

You see, I am a beloved child of God Dedicated to a life in his light,

Sealed by the Holy Spirit, Blessed and Highly favored.

I am adopted of the Most High Who humbled himself to walk on this earth

Empowering women Flipping tables of oppression And breaking all chains.

So, who are you to say that I am “too”?

Nah, Boo. I am just enough.

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Why? By: Lynette Dustsch I teach…

Because I was taught, Because someone stood in the gap for me and poured knowledge and passion into me, I teach because it is now my turn to be that warrior for others.

I teach…

Because the world is an ugly place, filled with both the imaginable and Unimaginable horrors.

Because in my classroom, we take up our swords against such horror.

Because knowledge is power.

Because together we can use our knowledge to combat poverty, injustice, loneliness, and pain.

I teach, because in my classroom- no one fights their battles alone.

I teach…

To “man the barricades” and stand watch on the wall.

As a mean of resistance to the ones who would crush us under their boots.

I teach as a part of the revolution- may it be a revolution of love and self-love.

I teach …

Because it is my Calling; my God-given sanctified duty Because nothing would satisfy my soul in the same way.

I teach because when God calls you to a task- you step up to it, or you end up in the belly of a fish.

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I Am By: Kyley Pulphus

I am the honey that sweetens your tea I am the stars guiding ships on the sea I am the stampede that makes the ground shake I’m the branch in the wind that will bend, but not break

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Here Comes Trouble By: Kyley Pulphus When my mama introduces me to people, she says with pride “This is my oldest child. She’s never been a day of trouble her whole life.”

That's an accurate description of me. I am the classic oldest child. Responsible.

Driven. Determined. A little bit bossy. A “good” girl who followed directions and did what she was supposed to do. Went to school. Got good grades. Didn’t smoke or drink or go to crazy parties. Graduated and got good jobs. Poster child for “How to Raise Your Kids Right.”

Then a few weeks ago, my mama introduced me to someone and said, “This is my oldest child. She’s never been a day of trouble her whole life…until recently.”

And I was pleased.

Not being a “good” girl gives me space to be a great one.

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The Three Little Crawfish amd T-Boy By: Jessica LeBlanc C’mon cher, let me tell you a tale.

Down on Muddy Bayou lived 3 lil’ crawfish named Boudreaux, Clotilde, and Fred. They all lived with their mama in their lil’ crawfish hole.

One day mama crawfish said, “Okay now, it’s time for y’all to get. This crawfish hole ain’t big enough for us all. Go make your own lil’ holes and be good lil’ crawfish.

Remember to stop by and see ya mama sometimes too!” Before she shooed them out the front of the hole she said, “Y’all remember though, T’Boy that big gator is always looking for a snack. Boudreaux you da oldest, take care and watch your sister and Fred.” With that mama sent her 3 lil’ crawfish out to make each their own lil’ crawfish holes.

Now over on the bank of Muddy Bayou was T-Boy. He was sunning hisself and listening to the sounds of the bayou. His stomach started rumblin’, tellin’ him it was snack time. Just as ole’ T-Boy popped his eyes open, he caught sight of Boudreaux, Clotilde, and Fred leaving their mama’s hole. “MMMMMMMM-MMMH” said T-Boy. “A lil’ crawfish cocktail would hit da spot, yeah cher. Bah, let me see how ole’ T-Boy is gonna catch dem crawfish,” and he crawled down the bank and slipped into the water without even a splash.

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Fred was the first to get him a hole. Bless his heart, he was not the smartest crawfish in the sack. He was kinda lazy too. Fred found a hole that was already dug out on the bank and crawled right in. It wasn’t a very deep hole, but Fred thought it was all he needed. He poked his head out the lil’ hole and waved his pincer at Boudreaux and Clotilde. “I got my home, me,” called Fred. “Boudreaux, you and Clotilde have fun gettin’ your holes dug. Stop by and see me sometime bruh!” said Fred before crawling back inside his second-hand hole. “That lazy lil’ bah is gonna get it one day!” fussed Clotilde as she and Boudreaux swam away.

As the brother and sister swam a lil’ ways away, T-Boy came up to the surface of the water right outside of Fred’s hole.

“Hey there fren,” said sneaky ole’ T-Boy. “You new ‘round here. Mind if I introduce myself, neighbor?”

Fred might have been a few potatoes short of a crawfish boil, but he knew who this was. “I know you, bah. You T-Boy the gator. My mama told me all ‘bout you. Now, you betta shoo from my hole or I’ma pinch you!” And he shook his pincer at T-Boy.

T-Boy gave Fred a big belly laugh. “Lil’ crawfish, you can’t hurt Ole’ T-Boy. I’ll snap you up and eat you before you can do anything to me.” And with that, T-Boy snapped his big mouth open and shut it with Fred inside.

Now, we know Fred ain’t smart, but he can get hisself out of the boiling pot if he needs to. Gators don’t take real good care of all their teeth, that’s why they always losin’em. Fred was crawlin’ around on T-Boy’s tongue trying to find his way out when he bumped into a rotten tooth. He got an idea real fast. He caught that bad tooth

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with his pincer and gave it a great big yank. “Ouch!” T-Boy cried. Fred was able to jump out of the gator’s mouth and crawl away to find Boudreaux and Clotilde to warn them.

As Clotilde swam pass different parts of the bank, she was keepin’ an eye out for the “perfect” spot. She stopped at one spot. It had a beautiful view of lily pads, which could be used to hide the entrance to her hole, and it was under the limb of a big cypress tree full of moss to give shade. “This is the perfect spot for my hole,” she said. “Boudreaux, will you help me dig? I don’t want to get my pincers too dirty and two crawfish diggin’ will take less time.” Boudreaux agreed to help her and together they dug a nice, deep, snug lil’ crawfish hole. Clotilde thanked her brother

and waved him good-bye before pullin’ a few lily pads to hide the hole entrance.

“Y’all come back now, ya hear!” she called to Boudreaux.

Clotilde didn’t notice the bubbles poppin’ up to the surface of the bayou next to her brand-new hole, so she was surprised when she saw two big eyes and a big snout lookin’ out of the water at her.

“Hey there ma’am. I see you’re new to these parts. Can I lend a helpin’ hand with this lovely hole you just dug?” T-Boy was being extra sweet, trying hard to fill his snack quota with this lil’ crawfish. He hadn’t gotten the first one, but doggone it he was gettin’ this one.

Clotilde wasn’t fooled in the least. She knew this sly gator was T-Boy. She said, “Now listen here you big ole’ gator. My mama said I can’t talk to you cause you eat lil’ crawfish like us for a snack.”

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“Well your mama would be right!” hollered T-Boy and he snapped his mouth open and shut but Clotilde backed deep into her hole and he didn’t get her. He tried again but just ate more mud. Clotilde dug deeper into her hole and then she dug up.

She made another hole and crawled out to safety. She was heading to find her brother Boudreaux when she saw Fred comin’ straight for her. Fred told Clotilde all about T-Boy and what he tried to do. The brother and sister set out down the bank of the bayou to find Boudreaux. After all, he was the oldest. He would know what to do.

Boudreaux was the oldest of the 3 lil’ crawfish and he was the smartest.

Boudreaux knew that ole’ T-Boy would find him eventually and when he did he would be ready for him. As he looked for a place to dig his hole, he was also looking for somethin’ else too. He was lookin’ for traps. You see crawfish and gators weren’t the only critters livin’ in the swamp. These critters called humans lived there too.

These humans were strange. They walked on two legs and were real tall. They had

two arms but no pincers, they had these things called hands. The strangest thing was that they ate all types of critters. They ate fish, crawfish, and gators. Boudreaux wanted to dig his hole next to one of these human traps. Hopefully the trap would catch T-Boy and then he could live in peace.

Boudreaux spotted a human trap just as Clotilde and Fred found him. They both told Boudreaux all about T-Boy and his tricks. Boudreaux told his brother and sister

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about his plan and they all started to work on the lil’ crawfish hole together. They dug it right on the side of the human trap so that if T-Boy snapped at the hole, he would snap the trap and get caught. Once the hole was complete, they just sat on the bank and waited.

It wasn’t long before T-Boy found the 3 lil’ crawfish and he was spittin’ mad. He was also VERY hungry - he was hangry! He made a beeline for the lil’ crawfish with his snout open as wide as it could go. When he snapped it shut, the trap went off and ole’ T-Boy was stuck. He couldn’t break free from the trap.

Boudreaux, Clotilde, and Fred went hide in their lil’ crawfish hole and waited for

the human critters to come. The trapped ole’ T-Boy and got him in their boat.

Boudreaux heard one of ‘em talkin’ ‘bout a gator sauce piquante. He didn’t know what that was, but it didn’t sound good for ole’ T-Boy.

The 3 lil’ crawfish were now safe to live in their own crawfish hole all together.

They were careful of the human critters with their traps and went to visit their mama like good boys and girls.

T-Boy may have ended up in a sauce piquante, but they would never be somebody’s crawfish bisque. Boudreaux was smart enough to make sure of that cher.

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In Quiet Moments By: Jessica LeBlanc In quiet moments memories flicker like a slideshow in my mind of all the happy times you gave me.

In quiet moments I see your face, happy, bright eyes, your smile and I hear your strong, comforting voice.

In quiet moments I can still remember your strong arms wrapping me safely in an embrace and telling me that everything will be alright.

In quiet moments I hear your tired voice saying that you needed to rest, asking if it

was okay to go.

In quiet moments I sit and watch the cardinal outside my window, perched on the fence looking back at me and I know that you are not really gone.

You are always here with me in these quiet moments.

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My Girl By: Kristen Retana Little girl twirling Growing dizzier, she spins.

To the ground she falls.

She giggles then shouts Through her joy and laughter, “Look!”

“Look at me, mama!”

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The Caged Bird By: Kristen Retana The caged bird, feeling trapped, only wanted to be free.

She wanted to feel that release, the freedom to fly, But some things aren’t meant to be.

Yes, her dream was from this cage to flee And to this confinement say goodbye.

The caged bird, feeling trapped, only wanted to be free.

She wanted to expand herself, to really see.

Knowing it was futile, though, she barely made a try.

Some things aren’t meant to be.

She once envisioned herself soaring to new heights above the sea.

Then, losing hope every day, she’d sit and sigh.

The caged bird, feeling trapped, only wanted to be free.

She once dreamed she would find solace in the shade of a tree.

Then, remembering her hopeless plight, she’d cry.

Some things aren’t meant to be.

She became silent and eventually ceased her plea.

Alone in her cage, dreams beyond her reach, she laid down to die.

The caged bird, feeling trapped, only wanted to be free, But, sweet little bird, some things just aren’t meant to be.

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If Not Now, Then When?

By: Zana Harris I have so much gratitude as we enter this last day of learning. The knowledge shared throughout this institute is simply invaluable. Our profession receives so many critiques. “We get the most breaks.” “We are so lucky.” But nobody talks about this part. Spending your afternoons tutoring to make ends meet. Logging into another zoom because you need your Masters to move up. Spending Saturdays at your school’s football games. Watching your Sundays fly by to do it again. Or not

even resting over the summer because there is so much to learn in so little time.

But if not now, then when? If not US, then WHO? It is evident that all here love these kids. We cherish our jobs because there are no days off. We are responsible for molding the next generation of everything. When its all said and done, I hope we look back and say to ourselves “Job well done.” So, if not Zana. If not Alison. If not Lynette. And Kristen. And Katy. Tonette, Jessica, and Hayley. And if not Dr. Brown.

Then Who?

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My Cup Runneth Over By: Zana Harris My cup runneth over with love, Gratitude, Humility, Ability, Breath.

What a gift it is to be alive My cup runneth over Is your cup half empty or half full?

Vibrate high and you decide My cup runneth over This life is a gift There was someone who didn’t wake up this morning A life ended

A love missing But God chose me To live To breathe To love My cup runneth over Another day to learn and grow

Another day with free will to walk into my destiny The path won’t be easy I’ll be tired My feet may hurt 28

I may be hungry I may be thirsty But God has given me a cup A cup filled with love Wisdom Life To replenish when I am weak A cup filled with the medicine to make it through this day My cup runneth over And over And over

And over

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If Everything Was Perfect By: Courtney A. Brown If everything was perfect All over the earth each child would smile all the time And always know his worth If everything was perfect When times got rough every woman would dig down deeply And know they were good enough If everything was perfect When terror appeared I’d hope that every man would be strong and brave And have no fear For we are limitless and great Spectacular, unafraid Ingenious, joyful and wonderfully made In a perfect world we know it Our behavior shows it How we speak and love and perform is an example in us of it If everything was perfect I wouldn’t wait I’d be who I am Straight out of the gate

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To create…

For the fate of the world I’m in longs for what I have to give So I’ll live to serve, to love, to light authentically…

I see…imperfectly perfect is me!

If everything was perfect…

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With My People By: Courtney A. Brown With my people I create, I feel safe I can face All the elephants in the room who take up space With strength and grace With my people

I am strong, I stand tall I won't fall Pressed against the proverbial wall My voice releases a clarion call With my people I will fight, shine my light Do what's right Give vision where there is no sight Through the dark and shadowy night With my people I am not ashamed, I will proclaim We hold the same Reasoning, evidence, claim Not for the fame But for unity to remain

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With my people I hope for the best, peaceful rest Minimal stress Euphoria and success Always striving for more, never less With my people There is strength, a common thread That never ends An unbroken circle of continuous wins Where each puzzle piece neatly fits

With my people

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About the Facilitator Dr. Courtney A. Brown earned her doctorate from the LSU School of Education in 2018 and is the first returning

Teacher

Consultant

to

co-direct

an

Invitational Summer Institute. Her unique ability to integrate the theoretical concepts of writing with

creative practical applications is a remarkable benefit to the Invitational Summer Institute. Brown brings to the Summer Institute many years of experience in teaching students from elementary through college as well as deep experience facilitating professional development for content area teachers in East Baton Rouge and Caddo Parishes. Her reach through the LSUWP further extends into the community through engagement with the West Baton Rouge Museum and the Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities.

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Courtney A. Brown, PhD

The Louisiana State University Writing Project (LSU WP) promotes the exploration of writing, writing research, and how to share writing best practice among educators (established 1985). The yearly anthology illustrates the learning, connection, and creativity of the summer invitational institute participants.