I Am... Who Am I?

I am going to challenge you, the reader, to do an assignment for me. I'm not going to grade you or fix your grammatical and punctuation errors (unless you want me to). I just want to see what you come up with. When I was teaching at Promise Program, I had my students do this as a final project. It always amazed me (and them) at how different each one was, and how revealing they were, no matter how simple or flowery.

The “I Am” poem was introduced to me by my ninth grade English teacher, Mrs. Nagolski. I have loved it ever since. The idea is to use the beginning phrases below to complete thoughts, usually one sentence per phrase (but it’s poetry, so it’s obviously open to interpretation).

Don’t worry if you’re not a poetic person. All you have to do is finish the sentences (keeping the “I am” line the same each time, although this rule can be broken if you really want to do something else). You don’t even have to think about whether they “go” together, and PLEASE don’t feel you have to make them rhyme (although you can if you want).

Below are two samples. The first one is my first one, written when I was 14. The second one is a more recent attempt (I do one approximately every 3 years--it's cool to see the differences in my personality, and in what mattered more to me).

Here are the lines to use for your I Am poem:

(Pictured here with just-graduated student Sari & her daughter,

Promise Program Class of 2006.)

I am

I wonder

I hear

I see

I want

I am

I pretend

I feel

I touch

I worry

I cry

I am

I understand

I say

I dream

I try

I hope

I am

Sample One

(Written at age 14, 1987)

I Am #1

I am a dreamer on a rainy morn.

I wonder what others think and say.

I hear the cry of a falling star.

I see a rainbow from the other side.

I want to believe that I’m loved.

I am a dreamer on a rainy morn.

I pretend the rain is angel tears.

I feel myself floating on the clouds.

I touch the sunshine as it passes by.

I worry about how my life affects others.

I cry when God’s grace is revealed to me.

I am a dreamer on a rainy morn.

I understand what it means to love.

I say what I mean, but it could be a lie.

I dream of traveling to faraway places.

I try to see the good in things.

I hope for true peace in this world.

I am a dreamer on a rainy morn.

Sample Two

(Written at age 35, 2007)

I Am #6

I am a teacher and a student.

I wonder how I’ve made it this far.

I hear the voices in my head

—positive ones telling me how strong I am

—negative ones telling me I’m worthless—and

I see how they influence my reactions to the situations in which I find myself.

I want to be above all that

—to be immune to any persuasion that is not pure—but

I am a stubborn, persistent soul, and lessons like that are hard-earned for me.

I pretend I don’t really care; tell myself that I’m tougher than everyone else, but what

I feel deep inside beneath the surface of my tough exterior is almost more than I can bear.

I touch that unbearable darkness in the solitude, when I allow myself to listen to the depth;

lower than the voices…

lower than the persuasion…

lower than the knowledge I think I’ve learned.

I worry—oh, how I worry—but only for brief moments…

moments that threaten to leave me breathless, and

I cry hot, angry tears at my inability to stop the pain, the sadness, the darkness

—why can’t I stop these things?

I am not omnipotent.

I understand that we are all here in this universe for a reason,

and I really do believe that (most days), but when

I say that I feel as if I don’t belong in this time and this place…

does anyone out there know what I mean?

I dream of continuing to learn,

of flying with great minds in ancient lands,

of talking with ancient souls in great detail, and

I try to remind myself that I have already done that and

survived the enlightenment as well as

overcome the blind belief and

hardened joy and

mind-numbing sadness.

I hope…

and that, in and of itself, is a miracle,

because there was a time when I lost all hope…

when I chose to be “safe” in my cynicism in order to keep out the darkness, but

I am still learning that it is better to hope

and dream

and swallow the joy this world offers

than it is to grow so cold and bitter that I

cease being able to share what I have learned with anyone else.

Even if you choose not to share it, I encourage you to try. They have a cathartic quality to them. Some of my students' I Am poems were very to the point, in the moment. Things like "I hear my kids yelling from the other room" and "I am so tired." It doesn't have to be fancy. It just needs to be you. Enjoy it!