Teacher resources and professional development across the curriculum

Teacher professional development and classroom resources across the curriculum

Monthly Update sign up
Mailing List signup
Follow The Annenberg Learner on LinkedIn Follow The Annenberg Learner on Facebook Follow Annenberg Learner on Twitter
Key Points
Things To Consider
In the Classroom
Additional Resources
workshop 7 guide

  HOME     About This Workshop     Teacher-Talk     Support Materials     Site Map  
Gonzalez' poem "A mis estudiantes"
First Steps A Shared Path Different Audiences Different Purposes
Usage and Mechanics Providing Feedback on Student Writing Learning from Professional Writers Writing in the 21st Century
Permission to reprint the two versions of this poem was graciously given by the author.

A mis estudiantes

- Quisiera saber lo que dicen esas basuritas -*

Tarahumara analfabeta

Tú que sabes leer,
     no lo tomes por supuesto;
tú que no sabes,
     hay mundos, hay dioses
     todavía por vivir en tus
Los mundos esperan formarse en tu lengua,
los dioses temblar en tus oídos.
Estas marquitas en la página,
negras como suciedad de mosca y
tan pequeñas,
te hablan - tú no las oyes.
No te puedo decir el comienzo
del nombramiento,
     sólo como cambia y que
     chispea y relumbra en la base
del cráneo.
No sé si haya respuesta;
tal vez sea suficiente nuestro decir.
Lo hombres, las mujeres
          han muerto siempre
     estas basuritas en la página
     su último legado.
          No las pierdas,
     estas cenizas encantadas
     de nuestros luceros.

© Rafael Jesús González 2004
(Metamorfosis, vol. III no. II vol. IV no. I; derechos reservados del autor)

To My Students

- Quisiera saber lo que dicen esas basuritas. -

tarahumara analfabeta

You who can read,
     do not take it for granted;
you who cannot,
     there are worlds, there are
     yet to be quickened in your
The worlds await to form on your tongue,
the gods to tremble in your ears.
These little marks, black as fly-droppings
on the page, and as small,
speak to you - you do not hear.
I cannot tell you the beginning
of naming,
only how it changes and magic
sparks and sputters at the base of
the skull.
I do not know if there is answer;
perhaps our speaking is enough.
Men, women have died always
     these small blemishes on the
     their final legacy.
          Do not lose them,
     these the enchanted
          of our stars.

© Rafael Jesús González 2004
(The Montserrat Review, Vol. I no. 1; author's copyrights.)

* "I want to know what those little specks say."

Back to "In the Classroom" main page


Build a Rubric 
Writer's Notebook 

© Annenberg Foundation 2015. All rights reserved. Legal Policy