Valley View Elementary School Visit to ASU, May 2005
YWP hosted a one-day ASU main campus visit in May for Ms. Lucero’s fourth graders at Valley View Elementary School. The students took a brief walking tour of campus and attended a special pre-college talk designed to inform them of the college experience and the admissions and financial aid application process. Then they viewed various portrait pieces at the Art Museum to gather ideas for the creative writing workshop held in the Piper House. There they wrote and read their own self-portrait poems.
Ms. Lucero's class posing on the steps of the
Piper Center.
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YWP Assistant Director, Sean Nevin, preparing
students for a new writing activity.
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Students boarding the bus after a full day at the
ASU Tempe Campus.
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YWP Instructor, Laura Cruser, leading a group of
Valley View students through a writing exercise
at the Piper House.
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Self-portrait of Alfonso Carrillo as a Panther
By Alfonso Carrillo
When I see myself, I see an angel
from heaven coming to rescue me
from danger. My hands move like a king
cobra looking for its prey.
It feels like a dead bunny
when you feel it. My teeth are sharp
as a bloody vampire. My skin is
the color of a tiger when I’m bored.
When people see me, they get scared
as a 5-year-old getting robbed.
My cheek bones are as fat as a panda
when he is eating a Big Mac at McDonald’s.
I am like a cheetah when I am mad.
Self-portrait of Sebastian as a Knock-Knock Joke
By Sebastian Ogaz
My hands move like a snake
dancing in Las Vegas.
My hair is as hard
as a T-Rex’s tail.
My teeth are like my brother’s flute
when he plays twinkle twinkle little star.
My eyes are the color green
when my friend tells a knock-knock joke.
My ears become noisy
when my dog barks as loud
as the toilet when it flushes.
My skin is the color of tea
with milk at bedtime.
Self-portrait of Angelica as a Sneaky Owl
By Angelica Salas
The shape of my eyes is a blue
rhombus. My ears become
elf ears when I am furious.
My height is medium like a cherry tree.
My hair when it moves is a blue
thick waterfall at Niagara.
My hands move like a jelly fish.
My teeth are square boxes of white cheese.
My skin color is warm coffee.
My eye is dark chocolate.
My cheek bones feel like squishy
bubble gum. My hair is as soft
as a marble. When I see myself,
I see a beautiful rainbow.
Touching with Your Eyes
Valley View Visit 05/24/05
Collaborative Poem
When I look at this picture I see the saddest twist.
My eyes see a mask full of color
like a rainbow. The clown feels sad
because he might have killed his family
member with his 99 mm shotgun.
His face is a secret checkered identity.
His face is a monkey on fire.
The man is in a lake that is as red as a pitcher
of Kool-aid, kidnapped with only a rain of blood.
The man is crying about a head on the ground.
He’s saying, “Help me. Help me.”
I see a girl who is nervous
because her father is coming out of jail.
I see a yellow girl who thinks she is all
bad, who is cruel to little children.
She feels as sad as a sad-eyed dog.
I feel a man’s face as rough as stones
covered in clay. It looks like he is getting a facial.
His face feels like a crack in the dark stormy world.
His face is as hard as stone.
He is as sad as the moon.
The man looks like a poor Mexican campesino.
I see a sad man smoking a pipe
and dining in the smoky wind.
I see a face made out of gray smoke.
The man is sad as a bird left out
all alone in the windy sky.
I see kids getting into mischief—
holy water and holy body. It looks as if
they’re in a Christian school and trouble
makers who are trying to trade holy water
for liquor. Their teeth are pulled front and different.
I see faces that are mad as volcanoes ready to erupt.
I see a boy who has a neck as long as a llama’s.
His face is a checker board in an old closet.
I see a wild man smoking a pipe
with a face made out of black smoke
and eyebrows as big as a jungle.
I see him looking at something else.
Maybe he is thinking of his wife in England.
He looks amazed like he figured something out,
feeling like he’s ready to dance to classy jazz.
I see a woman imagining what
it was like when she was young,
thinking about her childhood,
about the first day she saw her dad.
The woman feels like a dark blank
October night rainbow.
My eyes see dead people imagined
as bugs that are taken out of the pool.
They are dead as a house
about to fall from a twister.
I see vases that look scary and weird.
I see sadness because they are hungry.
I see that everyone has the same face.
What I see reminds me of September 11,
like tile that was shattered to pieces.
I feel like I am lost in a dark deep
hole in the green dark forest.
It is as foggy as a lonely swamp
with no animals.
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