On Not Betraying Poetry

Citation

Farber, Jerry. “On Not Betraying Poetry.” Pedagogy: Critical approaches to Teaching Literature, Language, Composition, and Culture, vol. 15, no. 2, 2015, pp. 213-232, Web.

Summary

In this article, Faber addresses the decline in appreciation for poetry within the United States, explores potential reasons for the decline, and proposes some methods by which to engender a life-long appreciation for poetry in students. He sees this decline in readership as the problem of poetry teachers at all levels of schooling. He cites the oppressiveness of grading and treatment of a poem as a test (that has a specific answer) as the main causes of student discomfort with poetry—if students can approach poetry aesthetically and with autonomy, they are more likely to experience enjoyment. Studying meter, form, “rules,” accepted interpretation, and analytical skills can be important, but most be done in context and not devalue aesthetic appreciation for poems. Faber proposes that contract grading, flexibility in level of interpretation, individual choice, returning to poems, and an emphasis on reading aloud could all improve student engagement with poetry. Ultimately, Faber concludes, the best way to inspire passion for poetry in our students is to rekindle a passion for poetry in ourselves.

Quotations

“I asked people on the first day—before I had, as it were, showed any of my cards—to write about their view of poetry and about their experience with it in school. Typically, their relationship with poetry had peaked when they read Shel Silverstein in elementary school, and then had taken a nose dive when they hit secondary school.” (217)

“We use the coercive force of grading to support a pedagogy that, most typically, approaches the poem as a problem to be solved.” (216)

“And why not encourage students to start their own collection of poems?” (220)

“We need to emphasize to students that they haven’t really read the poems until they’ve read them aloud at least once—and not just read them but even, in a sense, performed the poems for themselves.” (221)

“With each return, understanding and appreciation are likely to deepen. And, of course, we ourselves, in our teaching, can return to poems in class.” (222)

No one, including the poet, has exclusive interpretive ownership of a poem.” (227)

“A poem may not be a fortune cookie but neither is it a Rorschach test.” (228)

Reflection

Much of this article resonates with me—in my own experience in poetry courses, reading as a hobby, and potential hope to teach poetry myself. I can see where Faber is coming from when he explores the issues with treating a poem as a test or as some puzzle that you must work out or be beat by. I can think back to times in my schooling in which I was required to read a poem and write an analytical response but then was told that my analysis was incorrect. However, I had the privilege of being in several courses in undergrad in which we approached poems in a more holistic, aesthetic, and exploratory way. Some of what Faber proposes as solutions was already my learning experience several years prior.

Faber describes the experience of being asked to dissect a poem and reveal its meaning as humiliating. Perhaps the classes in which this humiliation occurs are not set up as a safe learning space (I remember a class laughing at me when I shared that what goat hooves reminded me of was the Devil, a point my professor later affirmed me in). Combine this with viewing a poem as a test and the coercive nature of the grading system and you’ve got a recipe for stifled creativity and passion. Not coincidentally, Faber promotes using a grading contract, a concept I am increasingly supportive of.

What we want to do to combat this decrease in readership is to get students excited about poetry, and not just in passing. I think Faber’s idea of approaching poems aesthetically is worthwhile, at least initially. Students who may not be experienced readers are going to be drawn to poems that appeal to them aesthetically. Only through practice will the analytic skills develop—but first, there must be an interest.

I am attracted to many of the teaching practices discussed as solutions to this appreciation problem, in particular having students assemble their own collections (of poems they enjoy) throughout the course of a quarter, encouraging weird or unique interpretations, requiring a reading journal, and returning to poems throughout a course. I am a huge believer in the validity of diverse readings of anything, poetry in particular. As a poet, I’m fascinated by the myriad ways my own work might be read. If I were to teach poetry, I would without a doubt encourage weirdness or creativity in response to any poem; that is what is exciting for me and, as Faber says, “it may be that the most useful thing many of us can do for our students’ appreciation of poetry is to reawaken our own” (230).

One of my favorite things about this article is the way Faber often compares the reading or creation of poetry to other art forms such as music or movies. Through knowledge and practice a poet “can achieve the kind of expressive subtlety and range that a jazz instrumentalist or a singer can attain, playing off of a standard tune,” he says (225). He sees the ways that poetry can be extended into different aspects of our lives.

Interestingly, Faber touches briefly on the idea of social media, saying it could “be a habitat for poetry,” but he never expands on the idea (216). Ultimately, I believe this is where Faber’s conclusions fall short. If we want to connect with students who have grown up in a vastly different time than we have—they’ve never lived in a time where the U.S. wasn’t at war and they all grew up with iPhones—we’re going to have to market things differently; we’re going to have to use platforms or strategies that are far more relevant to our students’ experiences than to ours.

In social services and DEI work, we talk about the differences between generations. What older folks in the workplace might thing is more appropriate as an in-person conversation, younger folks may find to be far more appropriate as an email. When we work together, we have to have an understanding of these cultural differences and largely, the folks on their way out have to understand that things are changing and need to make room for that. We can easily apply this also to teaching poetry. If we want this poetry to be attractive and accessible to a younger generations, we have to understand their cultural practices more.

3 thoughts on “On Not Betraying Poetry

  1. I love where you end up in your response section. I hear you saying that there’s something about poetry–sharing poetry with students and helping them find their place in it–that is intimately connected to the ways we as teachers must develop a real respectful empathy with our students’ generational (or other) differences from ourselves. Poetry can be a venue and a vehicle for our connections.

    Can you tell me a bit more about the teaching practices the article discusses? You list them at the end of your summary, but I never really get a clear enough picture of what they are or how they work that I could explain them back (not quite sure what “return to poems” means, for instance). Can you just talk me through a sentence or a quick example of these practices he recommends?

  2. johns965 says:

    Faber is very reflective in his discussion of teaching strategies throughout this article; all are strategies he has implemented and feels were productive. One of the most prominent strategies is the “return to poems” that you point out as having been unclear initially. Basically, he suggests reading a poem and returning to it later. This is done in several different ways. First, the insistence that a poem is read (or performed, as he sometimes refers to it), several times and aloud at least once. Second, the poem is taught at an early point in the course and then returned to late in the course both to bring fresh eyes to it and to see how the knowledge and practice gained over the course may enhance the reading. Third, Faber advocates collecting poems or keeping a poem journal. In this way, the student has subsequent context for and access to the poem. These returns allegedly enhance appreciation as well, something I agree with.

    Faber also spends time on the what-not-to-do. He describes students feeling pressure to conform to an analytical assessment of every poem, even if they have only worked through an aesthetic one. Perhaps piggy-backing off of condemnations of teaching to the test or studies of test anxiety, Faber believes that poem-as-test deters appreciation, which factors into this decline in readership. Without substituting critical assessments, Faber suggests an acceptance of aesthetic appreciation in an academic setting; those assessments should be welcome, especially in the early stages of reading poetry (and we can’t assume all our students have had access to poetry in the past).

    Another counter to teaching poem-as-test is to accept and encourage out-of-the-box interpretations. Has there been an agreement for the past 100 years on how a specific poem should be read? That’s fine, but alternative readings are fine, too, and inspire creativity and analytical skills.

    However, Faber does point out that these methods depend on what type of a poetry course is being taught. How many students are there? What types of poetry are you teaching? If it’s Shakespearean, rules and regulations need apply (you have to teach meter and rhyme and form) but if it’s Li-Young Lee, you don’t need to know any of that stuff but his complex images and metaphors do ask for imagination and creativity in approaching his poems. Ultimately, what Faber provides are several options to consider in designing a poetry course.

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