No place like home

An exercise designed to get my students to think about personal essays had the same effect on me. Using an idea from the wonderful Carol Schwalbe, I broke out fresh 24-count boxes of Crayola Crayons, a pad of paper and the instruction to draw the street/house they grew up in. I joined in and realized some basic truths. (Yep, this assignment really works.)

I have a great life and a lovely house, but the word home will always mean a red brick house on Western Avenue. I loved growing up there with my sister and two brothers and my wonderful parents. I miss Chuck and Rita every day, but I feel so blessed to have such good memories of home. Though I doubt my siblings or anyone else would recognize the house from my drawing, (my students say I draw bricks like a second-grader) I know that it’s home.

About these ads
Posted in Uncategorized. Leave a Comment »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

%d bloggers like this: