The middle school students are wrapping up an English Language Arts unit on creative nonfiction writing focused on food that paired with a science unit about sustainability. Their final assignment for this unit (informed by their work as young scientists) is to produce an essay that told the story of a meal they planned, cooked, and served. The journey to creating this final essay and the wide array of results speak to how writing at Seabury Middle School is all about developing as a thinker and an artist.
Before We Could Write:
The unit began with Ratatouille, the movie, not the dish. We talked about the idea of being a food critic and did a close reading of Anton Ego's speech:
In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that, in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new.
Last night, I experienced something new, an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core.
In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto: Anyone can cook. But I realize that only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more.
The students began to think about making food and describing or critiquing food as parallel art forms. Students asked questions. They shared understandings.
Reading as Writers:
Before students wrote their first creative nonfiction essay, they read models of food writing.
They shared favorite sentences from these model texts:
"This isn’t a dish you’ll find in a Pakistani restaurant—it’s that special, simple meal you make at home for your loved ones—and it doesn’t even have a name" (Saadat, "The Homestyle Pakistani Curry You Won't Find On Restaurant Menus").
and
"But this is not a food story that comes without cost" (Twitty, "I Had Never Eaten in Ghana Before. But My Ancestors Had").
Together, we built rubrics. What does a successful piece of food writing look like? The morning and afternoon ELA classes came up with similar, but distinct rubrics:
Feedback-The First Workshop:
The students' first pieces matched the prompt or subject of their model texts. Then, they bravely shared their writing with small groups of classmates. Someone who did not write the piece read it out loud, and then the students in the group asked questions. As a reader, what did they want to know? What questions did they have that would help them better understand? They also highlighted portions of each piece that were working really well.
And then Again:
Students then began a second round of reading, discussing, writing, and workshopping. The model texts were a bit more personal, a bit more about a story having a message:
Some stand-out sentences from this crop of model texts:
“The telltale brick-shaped carton encasing a Dayglo orange matter that
provided equal parts sustenance and humiliation: government cheese” (Dempsey, "The Tyranny and the Comfort of Government Cheese").
and
"Anh and I were transfixed by the bright red cylinder and the mustache grin on Mr. Pringles’s broad, pale face. The Heidenga girl pried off the top and crammed a handful of chips into her mouth. We watched the crumbs fall from her fingers to the floor" (Nguyen, "Pringles").
Even their choice of favorite sentences reveals their growth as writers.
This chance to embrace more personal narratives and put more of themselves into their stories gave some of the students a necessary push from descriptive writing into narrative writing. The students opened windows into who they are and how food connects them to their world.
Revision:
Students chose one of these first two pieces to revise. I gave them detailed feedback as a reader and as a teacher. The crafted more compelling sentences, they reorganized, they shifted tense and perspective, and then they hit "submit."
Here are some anonymous highlights from their works of art:
"Grilled cheese. It’s one of the only foods I can make without burning something or nearly exploding the microwave because I forgot I left a fork in it."
and
"Bread is cool because it tastes like bread. It's also made out of a brown grass called wheat (or even rye), so that's pretty great. Bread is also usually brown. If you bake your bread on flour or with a light dusting on top, it might look more appetizing to some people. Perhaps you could call it artisan."
and
"Either way, it will probably not be like how my abuela used to make it, but some will do anything for that taste of home."
Meanwhile:
We also looked at food photography, discussed aesthetic preferences, and learned some food styling tips. The students practiced taking and editing pictures of food.
The chance to practice writing about food again after having finished the workshopping process and thinking so deeply about the food they eat and where it comes from allowed the students to stretch and grow. They could be more creative because they were more comfortable with the genre. Through meetings with me and, in some cases, each other, they talked through and planned their final pieces. They wrote and revised and wrote some more.
These final essays have voice and power. They tell stories that convince. They draw on evidence and research to tie food to its origins while also crafting character.
Great Artists:
No one sits down at the piano the first time and plays like a maestro.
Bravery
It is brave to put yourself on the page. It is brave to try something new. It is brave to ask someone else to look at something you have created and make it better.
This is the work of being a Seabury student and the work of being an artist.
The Last Word:
Anonymous Excerpts from the Sustainable Cuisine Essays:
"My hands were lightning fast, whizzing back and forth. It was a blur of motion as I grabbed the tomato and threw it in the air. I grabbed a knife and chopped it before it hit the ground, Kung-fu style.2 It was a little less dramatic, but who cares. I slapped the potatoes down and vigorously stabbed them with a fork3. I wrapped them in a towel and put them in the microwave. Despite my efforts, there was no nuclear explosion, phew."
"When I think of fall and winter, I think of potatoes: those round and imperfect roots. But add some butter, maybe cream, salt, pepper, and a masher, and you have one of the most imperfect perfect things in the world."
"There were bubbles everywhere. It had exploded to the top of the mason jar with all of the little yeast working.
One last day of being outside. One big feeding. Being in the fridge would will slow him down and not eat as fast. I took a few cautious sniffs. And made my lemon face.
This was ready."
I think you'll agree: these student writers are artists.
