Keeping My Promises by Crystal Kelley

Maintaining writing momentum implies that one has started.  Getting started is one of the hardest parts for me. Once I begin a writing project, momentum carries me naturally. This movement,  this river current, has its obstacles but keeps a flow. Showing up for the page every day is like feeding birds: the birds will be ready if you consistently arrive. It isn’t easy. This is especially difficult when you are beginning fresh, without a particular direction.

Each year, our writer’s workshop strengthens in the classroom: opportunities to write for authentic audiences, more time to explore ourselves as writers, and stronger choices in writing endeavors. Each year, I work to model more of my own writing with whatever it is students are working on so that I can travel with them on the journey. Each year, it is vividly evident that in doing so, students are genuinely engaged in themselves as writers.

But, I miss the page.

I miss playing in my notebook: the words, surprising gems, randomness, and meanderings without direction that sometimes take on the form of poems.  I miss the raw creativity that leads down one path only to take another and finds its own current. I miss the momentum that is born of this arriving each day to the page.

Someone told me something at lunch today that sparked my thinking.  She said we keep our word with friends and honor our time with those we care about, but we tend to flake out on ourselves when it comes to self-care. I realized that I’ve flaked out on my promises too often this year as a writer. The page silently nudges me most days, sometimes it screams for my attention, at moments least expected and untimely.  As a mom and teacher, I struggle in taking time for me--the writer, the poet.

This year, I will strive to be as forgiving with myself as the page is with me. I will say yes to writing retreats with other teacher-writers; the energy it ignites is incomparable. I will create time for myself the writer, the poet, which will enrich other facets of my writing. This year, we will play in our notebooks more so that students can invent their own energy for writing. This year, I will feed the birds.



Crystal Kelley is from Albuquerque, NM, taught there, in Syracuse, New York, and now in San Marcos, Texas.  She holds an MAT from SUNY at Empire State, and currently teaches high school English and AVID.  As a teacher consultant with the Central Texas Writing Project at Texas State University, Crystal works to support new teachers in their writing endeavors. When she is not doing teacherly things, she is playing outdoors with her three kids, squeezing in time to write, and cooking with her husband. Connect with Crystal @cryskelley9 on Twitter and student writing at www.mrskelley9.edublogs.org.

Noticing is a Courageous Verb by Crystal Kelley

Noticing is a courageous verb. It lends itself to looking at the world with fresh eyes, to contemplate surroundings and experiences, and to discovery.  Noticing slows us down, allows our eyes to shift from focused to out of focus, without pressure or anxiety. There are no expectations with noticing--except the act of looking.  Noticing possesses great power; it allows us to be in the moment, without judgment, and vulnerable.

The problem is, I have to constantly be reminded to notice.

My notebook absorbs my noticings. When I take time to notice, I observe more, and there’s more material with which to work as a writer. I love to return to these notes and sketches, to study and to question. When I do remember to share my process with students, my vulnerability shows, and students see me as a writer. I become a novice again. This creates a space where we learn alongside one another--a space for writers.

It’s not easy to remember to notice.  At times, our minds are muddled with everything else we expect ourselves to pay attention to.  I definitely am guilty of getting caught up in the ongoing noise that surrounds us as teachers of writers. Noticing takes work. When I notice along with my students, they begin to notice, too. I’ve discovered that when students revisit these noticings throughout the year--they realize that they are real writers.

The magic that “noticing” wields:

• students judge themselves less during our sacred time with the page
• when we notice what glimmers on the page, excitement is a wildfire
• conferences with students become the heartbeat of our workshop
• our revision is more focused and less overwhelming
• one word, one phrase, can lead us to our next powerful piece
• taking risks with writing is what we do (not what we avoid)
• Our focus can shift to the big picture: we are ever-evolving as individual writers

Noticing is courageous in that it helps us see we are novices all over again when we approach the page.  I notice when I allow myself as a writer to be raw in the classroom, this empowers students. It takes practice--this noticing.


Crystal Kelley is originally from Albuquerque, New Mexico, has taught there, in Syracuse, New York, and now in San Marcos, Texas.  She currently learns alongside her 9th and 10th grade English and AVID students.  She is a teacher consultant with the Central Texas Writing Project at Texas State University, an affiliate of the National Writing Project.  In 2016, she was named Region 13’s Secondary Teacher of the Year. When Crystal is not doing teacherly things, she is playing outdoors with her three kids, squeezing in time to write, and cooking with her husband. Find Crystal @cryskelley9 on Twitter and student writing at www.mrskelley9.edublogs.org.

Poetry is Home by Crystal Kelley

Writing poetry is home, and ever since I can remember, an extension of my being. Poetry saved me as an adolescent; serving as an outlet for emotion and creativity. And yet, poetry continues to feed the artist in me,  I don’t feel right if I am not writing. It is a way to wrestle with questions we have about life without having to come up with one answer.

This is a huge gift as a teacher of young writers and I understand that not all find a love with poetry--or even a like. I ask them what they know, what their experiences have been with regards to poetry.  We talk about how not everyone loves it, how some wish to run in the opposite direction, screaming. Students also share poems they love.

My approach is full of play and I ask students to promise to remain open to possibilities. We play with language, sounds, words, sketches--in our writer’s notebooks. We take sacred time with the page: every day. We write beside poems, using them as mentor texts--and enjoy them for what they are. Immersion in poetry and exposure to poets that walked before us, and those who are voicing now is important.  Pat Mora, Emily Dickinson, e.e. cummings, Denise Frohman, Emmy Perez, Juan Felipe Herrera, William Stafford, and Naomi Shihab Nye--to name a few.

One way we enter poetry is through words. Choose a set of words: randomly from the book you’re reading, the dictionary, or a list we all pick. Choose.  Then, see what happens.  Ask questions about the words, check out their history, layers of meaning, and sound and placement on the page. Make sure to share with our writing response groups--get feedback and let the creativity go from there.  This community of writers is crucial. We celebrate the pieces that inspire us and more often than not, most that wished to scream earlier, are with their pencils focused on the page as the bell rings for class to end.


Crystal Kelley is originally from Albuquerque, New Mexico, has taught there, in Syracuse, New York, and now in San Marcos, Texas.  She currently learns alongside her 9th and 10th grade English and AVID students.  She is a teacher consultant with the Central Texas Writing Project at Texas State University, an affiliate of the National Writing Project.  In 2016, she was named Region 13’s Secondary Teacher of the Year. When Crystal is not doing teacherly things, she is playing outdoors with her three kids, squeezing in time to write, and cooking with her husband. Find Crystal @cryskelley9 on Twitter and student writing at www.mrskelley9.edublogs.org.