by Laura Shovan
MR. STICK GUY’S GOODBYE
Jason Chen
For Mark
Find a pack of sticky notes.
Draw your old pal
Mr. Stick Guy.
On the next page
draw him a little smaller.
On the next page,
shrink him more.
Keep going,
smaller and smaller
on each page,
until he’s nothing
but a dot.
Suddenly,
Other Stick Guy appears.
Draw a close-up
of his face.
Put a tear
in the corner
of his eye.
Make it roll
page by page
down his cheek.
May 20
SOMETHING GOOD
Sydney Costley
Something good is going to happen this summer.
I can feel it. It’s in the heat, the sun on my arms,
the way kids rush out the door
when school is over for the day.
Something good is going to happen this summer.
The pool is open. The water’s cold.
My friends hang out by the snack shed,
talking about middle school.
Something good is going to happen.
Maybe my swim team will be county champs.
Maybe Mom will let me and Sloane go to the movies
by ourselves. Maybe I’ll meet someone.
Something good is going to happen.
I can feel it in the way people don’t ignore me
even when I’m with my sister.
That makes me feel like I’m something good.
May 21
PAINTING
Hannah Wiles
After lunch, Mrs. Stiffler says
we can spend the rest of the day
outside, painting our wall.
If I’m going to be a good
Holy Angels student,
I’d better start practicing now.
I guess I kind of
picked on Rachel this year.
So I tell her I am sorry
and how I think the mural
is a great idea. She looks shocked
that I gave her a compliment,
but Rachel and I work
next to each other all afternoon,
painting and talking.
I’m surprised! I never knew
Rachel was so easy to talk to.
Our class sings old folk songs
and laughs about the crazy things
that happened this year,
all eighteen of us and Ms. Hill,
having our own
fifth-grade celebration.
May 22
A TANKA POEM FOR PHOENIX
Rennie Rawlins
My sister and me
side by side on the mural.
Phoenix is smiling.
My hand holds her hand so tight,
no one can pull us apart.
May 26
NOBODY TOLD ME
Sloane Costley
Nobody told me
shutting down this school
meant Mrs. Stiffler would cancel
our Clapping Out ceremony.
Just because we’re not
going to school here next year,
Mrs. Stiffler thinks it’s pointless
to make the teachers applaud
while our class walks
between the buildings
and we officially
become middle schoolers.
Even though she gave us back
our fifth-grade celebration,
I think she’s still mad at our class.
No teachers applauding
on our last day,
and no Hannah next year.
I’m thinking middle school
will be pointless…
until Sydney reminds me
I won’t be alone.
Lots of cool kids from our class
are going to Dickinson Middle.
But coolest of all is my
number one super friend
to the end,
sister Sydney.
May 27
CLAPPING OUT, CLAPPING IN
Shoshanna Berg
I wanted to see my elementary school teachers lined up.
I wanted to feel my feet marching into Montgomery Middle.
I wanted my ears filled with the sound of teachers clapping.
I wanted the scent of middle-school lockers, emptied for the summer.
I wanted a taste of being a sixth grader.
Instead, I see my teachers packing boxes.
Instead, I feel dirt on the floor no one bothers to clean.
Instead, I hear the sound of people saying goodbye.
Instead, I smell the last lunch I will eat in this building.
Instead of celebrating our move to middle school, I’m surprised to taste my tears.
May 28
HAIKU
Newt Mathews
We saved the frog wall.
You’re welcome, amphibians!
Your friends, Raj and Newt.
May 29
I’M A CREATURE
Rajesh Rao
Finally, my dad
said I could play piano
with the Zoo Creatures.
My mask is a blue dart frog.
Wait till I tell Newt the news!
June 1
MY VOICE
Gaby Vargas
When fifth grade started,
I did not like my poems
unless I wrote them in Spanish.
But when Mark is helping me,
my English is getting better.
When fifth grade started,
I did not like my voice.
Too slow in English.
Clumsy, like dropping eggs.
But when I was singing
in the school play,
I loved being Belle.
Mark asked me to sing
with his band
at the picnic for the fifth grade.
Mark, Jason, Tyler,
Ben, Raj, and me
onstage together.
When I sing with my friends,
I like the sound of my voice.
June 2
ZOO CREATURES
Ben Kidwell
Zoo Creatures
Onstage!
One last
Concert to
Rock
Emerson’s fifth grade. Mark
And Gaby are at the mike.
Tyler, Jason, and Raj wait
Until I give the beat.
Ready
Everyone?
Showtime!
June 3
UNVEILING THE MURAL
Norah Hassan
Brick wall, bright faces.
One girl in a blue hijab
smiles at her teacher.
Beside the children
a teacher stands tall, so proud.
Her scarf flutters, a flag.
June 4
DEDICATION
Katie McCain
When we dedicated the mural,
my mom nearly had a conniption.
She says people who go shopping
at the new supermarket won’t know
what an awesome kid I am when they see
a painting of a girl with purple hair,
holding her pet snake.
At least Jason thinks I’m awesome,
no matter what color my hair is.
He asked my mom if I could go out
for ice cream after our Moving Up ceremony.
My mom said it was fine with her.
Me going out with Jason Chen.
What could be more normal?
June 5
MOVING UP SPEECH
Jason Chen
Dearly Exhausted,
We are gathered here to end
the many years w
e’ve spent together
at Emerson Elementary School.
Sickness—check. Health—check.
Better—sometimes.
Worse—let’s not go there.
Forsaking all other fun activities
when there was homework to do?
Let’s just say we did our best.
As we walk across this stage tonight,
fifth grade and Emerson
become memories
we shall have and hold
as long as we all shall live.
That means forever,
and that’s a mighty long time,
but I’m here to tell you
there’s something else—middle school.
A world of never-ending lockers,
where homework is assigned every night.
In this life, things have been much easier
than they are in middle school,
but take a look around you.
You won’t be on your own.
By the power given to me
by the votes of my wise classmates
when they chose me to make this speech,
I now pronounce the fifth-grade class
Moved Up.
June 8
SELF-PORTRAIT
George Furst
Before the Moving Up ceremony,
I asked my father to come see our mural.
There I am on the wall.
My name is underneath:
George Washington Furst,
President of the Last Fifth Grade.
“Did you have a good year
as class president?” Dad asked.
I don’t want to hurt his feelings.
I wish we could have saved Emerson
almost as much as I wish
I could have convinced my dad
to come home and live with me
and Mom and Vernon, the cat.
We look at the bulldozers,
already parked behind the school,
and I tell my dad
I’m running for student council
next year. One day, I hope to be
the student representative
to the Board of Education.
The kids in this school system
need a strong voice.
This year, I found mine.
June 9
GOODBYE
Edgar Lee Jones
Yo, Notebook.
Goodbye from your fifth-grade poet.
My class has Moved Up.
I wore a fine white suit,
black shirt, silver tie.
When I walked across the stage
I knew my mom would cry.
I am writing one last poem,
knowing my grandpa
is there, somewhere,
reading over my shoulder
never looking a day older.
I won’t forget this year,
how we tried to keep
this building alive.
How fighting back
made our classroom thrive.
In twenty-five years,
when the time capsule
gets sprung from its wall,
I will take you out
and read all my poems
about friends, sad times,
things that made me
want to rhyme.
I know you’ll be
waiting in the dark,
a quiet spark,
so I’ll never forget
a fifth-grade boy
called Edgar Lee,
who loved poetry.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
According to the saying, it takes a village to raise a child. Imagine the size of the village required to bring Ms. Hill’s eighteen students to life! I am grateful to many friends and readers, especially: Melinda Abbott, Marjory Bancroft, Veronica Bartles, Barbara Quarrier Dell, Jennifer Della’Zanna, Jacqueline Douge, Jane Elkin, Erin Hagar, Jennifer Dennison Lewis, Naomi Milliner, Marieke Nijkamp, Lona Queen, Debby Rippey, Amie Rose Rotruck, Holly Thompson, and Timanda Wertz. Joy McCullough-Carranza mentored me through a significant rewrite. Poet and translator Patricia Bejarano Fisher deserves recognition for her work on Gaby’s poems. Hannah’s poem “Hugs and Kisses” was inspired by the Hauk family. Thanks to the real Aunt Jennie, Jennie Steinhauser, for sharing her matzo candy. Ann Bracken and Patricia VanAmburg, educators and poets both, were models for Ms. Hill. Illustrator Abigail Halpin is so talented, I recognized each of the Emerson fifth graders immediately.
I could not have written this book without the Maryland State Arts Council’s Artists-in-Residence Program. Among the classrooms I have visited, Northfield Elementary’s third grade holds a special place in my heart.
The Last Fifth Grade and I found a champion in my amazing agent, Stephen Barbara, who is part coach, part expert guide to the ins and outs of publishing. Like me, Stephen is a fan of Edgar Lee Masters’s 1915 verse novel, Spoon River Anthology, which was a model for early drafts.
It has been a joy working with the team at Wendy Lamb Books, whose time and energy enlivened Ms. Hill’s class. I appreciate copy editor Colleen Fellingham’s keen eye, and her patience. Art director Kate Gartner and senior designer Trish Parcell took great care to make The Last Fifth Grade feel as cozy as spending time with a good friend. Special thanks to my editor, Wendy Lamb, and her assistant, Dana Carey. They have been generous with their guidance, trust, and enthusiasm.
I am grateful for my children’s patience and humor. And most humble thanks to my husband, Rob, who is not a writer, which makes his understanding that rarest of gifts: empathy.
A CLOSER LOOK AT THE POEMS IN THIS BOOK
READING POETRY
The Last Fifth Grade of Emerson Elementary is a book of persona poems, which means that each poem is written in the voice of one of the characters.
Listen to those voices. Whether you are reading aloud or silently, imagine that these poems are no different from speaking with a friend. Poems are very much like people. They try to make you laugh with a joke, tell you a sad story, or share a secret. But like people, poems don’t always reveal everything they know. You might want to ask the poem, “What do you mean when you say that?”
Sometimes the fun of reading a poem is laughing at silly rhymes like the ones Jason Chen writes. Other times the fun comes from creating pictures in your mind, like the ones described in Norah Hassan’s poems. Best of all is when a poem hints at something that makes you want to figure out its meaning for yourself. Why is that the most fun? Because that is the moment when you become part of the poem.
FAVORITE FORMS FROM ROOM 5-H
Acrostic
In acrostic poems, the first letter of each line spells out the subject of the poem. This cool form is read the usual way, but also vertically, down the side of the page.
SUGGESTION: Write about a friend, using his or her name to form an acrostic. The more details you include about the person, the more your poem will resemble your friend.
Model poem: “Things That Annoy Me” by Katie McCain
Concrete Poem
Concrete poems are shapely. The words of the poem form the shape of whatever the poem is about. We read the poem, but we also see it.
SUGGESTION: Pick an object that’s important to you—your favorite soccer ball, a lucky hat, your pillow. Draw an outline of your object on paper. Fill in the shape by telling a story about your object, or describe what makes this item important to you.
Model poem: “Lucky Hat” by Ben Kidwell
Diamante
Diamantes are seven-line poems. They are named for the diamond shape they make when centered on a page. Poets start with two nouns that are opposites (“Summer” and “Winter”) or two words that are related (“Cold” and “Ice”).
Line 1: Noun
Line 2: Two adjectives about the noun in line 1
Line 3: Three “-ing” verbs that show the noun in action
Line 4: Four nouns or a short phrase that link line 1 to li
ne 7
Line 5: Three “-ing” verbs that show the last word of the poem in action
Line 6: Two adjectives about the noun in line 7
Line 7: Noun (synonym or antonym of line 1)
SUGGESTION: Write about a special day—a snow day, your birthday, or a holiday.
Model poem: “Valentine Diamante” by Rachel Chieko Stein
Epistolary Poem
Epistolary means “written as a letter.”
SUGGESTION: Make a poetry postcard. Draw a picture or cut out a photograph you like from a magazine and glue it on the front of your postcard. On the back, write a letter to someone (real or imaginary) in the form of a poem.
Model poem: “Anything” by Sydney Costley
Fib (Fibonacci Poem)
Fibs are a new form of poem, invented by author Gregory K. Pinkus. By counting syllables, Fibs follow the Fibonacci sequence of numbers. It’s easy to do. Start with 0 (an empty line). Then 1 (a one-syllable word). Add them together to get your next line: 0 + 1 = 1 syllable. Keep adding the last two numbers to get the next number in the sequence. In nature, Fibonacci numbers make a spiral like the ones formed in a nautilus shell. In a poem, the sequence looks like this:
Empty line: 0 syllables
Line 1: 1 syllable
Line 2: 0 + 1 = 1 syllable
Line 3: 1 + 1 = 2 syllables
Line 4: 1 + 2 = 3 syllables
Line 5: 2 + 3 = 5 syllables
Line 6: 3 + 5 = 8 syllables
Line 7: 5 + 8 = 13 syllables
SUGGESTION: Since the Fibonacci sequence is found in nature, try writing a Fib about the natural world. Insects and spiders, animals, plants, and even outer space all make great topics for Fibs.
Model poems: “Two Fibonacci Poems” by Newt Mathews
Found Poem
