Dancing in the Rain

Every year, after the big test, I work in a creative writing unit with my seniors.  This involves responding to various quotes from a text.  The format (short story, poetry, personal narrative, etc.) is up to the student, as is the length.  The goal is simply to write a lot and engage each other in meaningful sharing and discussion about personal voice.  This is, by far, my favorite unit of the year.  

My hope is to post my daily musings with some of the responses of my students.  

~

Dancing in the Rain

She looked foolish, but she didn't care.

Centered in the light cast from the streetlamp, she spun and spun and spun. A hearty spring rain dowsed her hair, now plastered to her face, small rivers of water streaming from the ends. Her mottled blue tee-shirt clung to her; her jeans grew exponentially heavier with every twirl as the rain washed down the road.

Each drop fell cool on her skin, immediately coming together in a liquid embrace.  Water rushed between her bare toes, the smooth red bricks a riverbed beneath. She extended her arms, lifting them toward the sky, a smile spreading, and a laugh escaping.

It was a lifetime ago when she last did this. A handful of broken hearts, innumerable tears and laughs, new relationships formed, old relationships faded, strong relationships bolstered: uncountable experiences that slowly chiseled her into the woman now giggling and spinning in the the middle of the street in cascades of rain.

This. This is who I am. How could I ever forget?

Last night, I danced in the rain.

~

Student responses:

"Exponentially is a cool word."

"Why did she forget who she was?"

"What if you told it from the rain's point of view? Like personified it?"