Picking Blackberries · Tue Apr 11, 21:08 by Eleri Straker
Today I gave my year 9 students a Seamus Heaney poem to read. About picking blackberries. Not an easy poem, Heaney isn’t the simplest of poets… but he is worth the effort. I gave my class the poem and contrary to my usual practice, didn’t read it to them, just told them to read it themselves and come to some decision about it.
I have to admit that watching them struggling with the verse gave me some perverse pleasure, as I was sure they’d appreciate me more when they found how difficult it was! Anyway, the class was busily arguing amongst themselves about it with one boy declaring loudly that he didn’t get the poem at all. I asked him what the problem was and he said, “Well it’s about these people just picking blackberries and they like doing it…” He was clearly frustrated by what he saw as his own incomprehension.
“Yes,” I replied, “you’re right.” And left it at that. So he glared at me, clearly thinking I was being awkward.
Then another student chimed in with, “Yes, but there’s more to it isn’t there? It’s all happy and light in the first stanza, but in the second bit it’s different…the bit about the mould…the things are rotting, dying…”
Another interrupted, “But look at the use of the word ‘clot’ in the first stanza, it’s a horrible word, it sort of makes me think about blood clots…which can lead to death, so I don’t think it’s as straightforward as it looks…”
A boy at the back of the class jumped in at this point, telling her that he agreed with her viewpoint and that he believed that the whole blackberry picking stuff was really all a metaphor for life…
I just sat in amazed silence. I let them talk and argue and discuss until ‘just picking blackberries’ was almost lost in the interchange of ideas.
Eventually, one of the students asked me what I thought the poem was about. I just shrugged and admitted that I didn’t actually know, but had a suspicion that they might be right. I told them that my knowledge of other Heaney poems made me think that their interpretation might well be correct.
“Anyway,” I added, “in the long run, it doesn’t really matter what I think it means, if you can support what you say, then short of asking the poet himself, who’s to say you’re wrong?”
And this, I think, is what poetry is all about. It’s intensely personal. Just as teaching it is.
Each one of those students came away from that lesson with his or her own view of what Heaney was talking about and each conclusion had been reached through thought, analysis and intuition.
As a teacher there is nothing wrong with admitting that you don’t know the answer. There’s nothing wrong with admitting fallibility. I had told my class that I wasn’t sure what Heaney’s point was and the fact that I could admit it openly encouraged my students to do the same. After all, education is all about sharing information and knowledge. Generally speaking, the teacher is the one with all the facts, but sometimes it’s worth not knowing – or claiming not to know. Because then, the knowledge will come from the students. Between them, through the exchange of ideas, the cut and thrust of argument or even sometimes an inspired guess, it’s amazing what will be learned. And I’m not just talking about the students!
P.S.
By the way, I do know what the poem’s about. It’s about picking blackberries!
But there’s always more. (probably!)
