Wednesday, September 26, 2012

A Lesson from Katy Perry


Write ON!
Day 275
I spend the day listening to bubble gum pop, songs sung by teenage girls who wear glittery leggings.  I listen carefully to the lyrics, searching for clues.  What do girls care about today?  What angst plagues their lives? 

In a few weeks, I’ll lead a writing circle for third and fourth grade girls as part of a six-week after school enrichment program at my boys’ school.  My hope is Write ON! will empower girls to find their “groove” through their own words.  The bubble gum pop?  I’ll use popular song lyrics as writing prompts in hopes of getting girls to journal honestly about their lives. 

“Why girls?” I. asks.  “Why not boys?”  He’s asking for himself.  He wants to join the circle. 

How do I explain to a 9-year-old that girls are more complicated creatures than boys?  Boys toss a football in the yard while girls fret about what someone said or who wasn’t invited to what party.  Girls need empowering.  How else can they navigate into the teen years feeling strong, confident and heard? 

I find a song message that I love.  Katy Perry knows her stuff. 

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag,
Drifting through the wind
Wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin
Like a house of cards,
One blow from caving in?

Do you ever feel already buried deep?
6 feet under screams but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you
'Cause there's a spark in you

You just gotta ignite the light, and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July

'Cause baby you're a firework
Come on, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Baby, you're a firework
Come on, let your colors burst
Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh"
You're gonna leave 'em all in "awe, awe, awe"

“Maybe we can do a boys circle in the spring,” I tell I.  He smiles and runs to get a notebook to share a story with me he’s written. 

“What’s the story about?” I yell to his retreating back. 

“About you and me and our trip to New York,” he yells, his voice quieter as he turns and heads up the stairs. 

Seems to me he’s already finding his voice and I’m in awe, awe, awe of this little boy.  

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