Chairs are not just for sitting

Chairs are not just for sitting, although I do enjoy their dependability. Such a reliable spot for most students to plant themselves when they come in. We can handily move them to and fro to suit momentary needs. Face forward, turn and talk, form new groups, tip back a little, but not too far.

Such an egalitarian accessory. Some days, I even forget that kids tower over me above 6 feet tall; likewise, shortness is a meaningless construct when chairs do their job. When was the last time you heard someone brag about the length of their torso? Exactly.

Here's the workshop routine: Chat first, read a poem, talk about a poem, and (if we're lucky) hear a little "slice" from me. Then, it's time to write.

Take a risk. 

Jump in.

Trust the idea. 

You might surprise yourself. 

The alarm bell sounds, and groups circle up. But that's not all. Those chairs--flexible devils--are at it again.

A few students accept the invitation to stand up, climb up, and speak up. Because not all words are content to stay on the level. They are energized, raring to breakout. There is no megaphone to be found, nor is it necessary.

The class turns, lifting their chins, silent, open eyes, open ears. Nope, no spotlight; the shine is on the writer. Laptop in hand, strong souls read syllable by syllable, strutting staccato beats, and themes that run deep. Last lines are met with applause and some "Whoo whoo!"

Chairs, I see you. You're so much more.