Teaching kids to write is
equivalent to teaching
kids to think; giving kids
the tools to write is giving
them the resources
to be successful in life.

Combining all of this
with soccer is like putting
peanut butter with chocolate.

I am surprised every public
school hasn’t adopted a
SCORES program.”

- Best Selling Author, Stephen King

Picture this: A smooth wall-pass to the Center Midfielder, who passes it up the line to the Right Winger, who boots a magnificent cross to the Striker, who heads the ball like a laser beam, into the upper right corner of the net, just inches from the Keeper’s reach and…Ta Da! Goal! That’s The Beautiful Game, also known as, Soccer.

Who thought of combining The Beautiful Game with poetry? America SCORES, that’s who. SCORES is an after-school program for urban public schools, bringing kids a weekly dose of soccer and poetry. As a SCORES Poetry Coach last fall, I had the pleasure of working with students at the Oakland school, Think College Now (TCN). They played soccer twice a week and then they joined me in “playing” with poetry the other two days a week.

My team consisted of a dozen or so high-energy 3rd through 5th grade girls. They were mainly there for soccer, but since poetry is a requirement under SCORES, they had to take my class, too. I knew I had a big task ahead of me.

Week-by-week, we explored the basics of poetry, experimenting with various forms. I tried to keep it fun–mixing activities between music, word games, stories and journal-writing. But these girls loved to talk and tease each other. Plus, they had cliques. I’ll spare you the details. Rather, I’ll just say some of them had a flair for drama.

When I started to doubt their progress, their journals and experimental poetry turned up gems. I watched them come out of their shells, embracing poetry as a vehicle for expression. They wrote about friendship, family, love, hate and crushes. They surprised me by their eagerness to read their poems out loud. Could it get any better than that?

Our final project was to perform a group poem at the annual East Bay SCORES Poetry Slam! at Dunsmuir Estate. The girls took pride in composing their own lines. I also let them choreograph some movements. However, the rainy day weather affected our practice sessions. I found myself managing their behavior more than coaching. I strived to keep the girls focused and busy. I also crossed my fingers a lot.

Performance night brought us together with hundreds of other SCORES kids. We were second on the program. I tried to shrug off the girls’ collective “deer-in-the-headlights” expressions–however, I grew concerned. A few of the girls had stage-fright. I hoped it wouldn’t spread.

My team sat, stiff with fear, as the first group performed their poem. I held my breath as the MC called us up. Thankfully, all my girls stood up and followed me to the front of the auditorium. I watched them file on stage, just as we had practiced.

I remained close by to cue and cheer them on. But once they got going, they were fine. Every girl remembered her line. If someone forgot to recite the group lines then other girls filled in, projecting their voices and filling in gaps. They wowed us with their performance of “All the Colors of the World.”

The poetry slam reminded me of a good soccer match. As a veteran soccer coach, I recalled the planning, scrimmages and drills, mess, mud and grime of the field, ebb and flow of the game, perfect passes, interceptions and hard-earned goals. A coach organizes practices, but the game, itself, is in the players’ hands (and feet).

The judging panel awarded my team: “Most Visionary” and “Rhythm & Rhyme.” Perhaps they, too, were reminded of The Beautiful Game?

Peter Sís tells an evoctive, multi-layered tale of growing up behind the Iron Curtain in Czechoslovakia in his picture book, The Wall. I couldn’t put this book down even after it turned dark and I had to read with just the inside car lights on. (I brought the picture book along on an errand, hoping to squeeze it into my day–which I did!)

In the car’s dim lighting, I learned how the seemingly innocuous, yet twisted schooling of the boy, mounted up to a lifestyle of paranoia and fear. He hears of a relative being thrown into prison for planning to defect to the West. His parents no longer speak freely in front of him and his sister for fear of being ratted on by them. However, the boy’s internal walls, erected and reinforced by Soviet society, begin to crumble long before the Berlin wall does, thanks to his love of drawing and hunger for artistic expression.

Sís captures the flavor of youth’s innocence amid sordid world views through stunning pen and ink illustrations, graced with sensitive, carefully-placed color washes. Read this book and relish the visuals, but take time to read the timelines at the beginning and end of the book. Much more than a memoir, it summons a fresh take on Communism and the Cold War. Other reviews on The Wall can be found here (must sign into the NY Times) and here.

I look forward to hearing Mr. Sís speak, along with other children’s literature luminaries, at Reading The World X, a multicultural literature conference held next month at USF–it promises to be an enriching event. I’ll be an attendee, as well as, presenting insights on Hawaiian storytelling. Stay tuned!

Meet my sidekick: AlphaSmart Dana. I lug it around in a backpack, tote or plastic accordion folder. Light-weight, yet rugged, it’s perfect for use in a car, at the cafe, and even outdoors. Here we are at the local beach, ready to write.

Sloppy first drafts are a breeze on the Dana. As someone with “edititis” (obssesive editing syndrome), the Dana’s short, wide-screen display dissuades me from proofing as I type. I’m never tempted to surf the net because there is no net. But don’t let its simple design fool you. The Dana is a hybrid laptop-PDA offering techie-pleasing input/output options, sophisticated viewing choices and more.

The Palm Pilot OS system runs oodles of applications. I have the option to activate WiFi wireless, a plus for future jet-setting. But my greatest joy is tapping away on the full-fledged keyboard.

I took my Dana on an eastbound red-eye flight with two stop overs and I knocked out work at several airports and planes thanks to the unit’s long-lasting battery charge. I saw laptop owners at PHL airport scrambling for power outlets to juice up their sluggish laptops. I spared the smirk, kept my head down and typed away on my trusty Dana. I didn’t have to recharge the battery until two days later.

Major smilies go out to AlphaSmart for their primo customer service. The first unit I received was defective but the folks at AlphaSmart promptly sent a replacement Dana and covered the cost of returning the bad one.

Not a perfect start for me and my Dana, but what great loves aren’t without a challenge? The new unit functions superbly.

Sometimes it’s just me and my Dana, typing away at places like this:

When my son was a toddler, he’d get super excited when we included peas in his meal. He called them “balls” and he’d throw them around the kitchen. He would also shake, rattle and roll–practically blast off–in his high chair whenever he played with…I mean ate…his food. This illo (a mix of ink and colored pencil) was a drawn a while ago when he was 1.5 years old. He is now 15. You do the math.

Cheers! May you soar with your dreams (and soar in your dreams) in 2008!