With the imminent launch of my new book ‘Of Teaching, Learning & Sherbet Lemons’ – a compendium of careful advice for teachers, I thought it might be a good idea to share with you a poem which touches upon the needs and considerations of the children we teach. This poem in itself is like a Sherbet Lemon. It’s carefully crafted structure with its unique message, and then you’re hit with that ‘fizz’ moment when you realise what it’s all about.

I’ve always believed that every child, regardless of their learning and living differences (my take on SEND) should be allowed a voice to share how and what they are thinking. Sometimes, children find it hard to explain exactly what it is that make them tick, get them hooked into learning and….well, quite simply what works and what doesn’t work for them. So, here’s a little poem to make you think about those children in your class who aren’t always able to share exactly what it is they need and want from you as their teacher.

My head is like Spaghetti….. 

My head is like spaghetti,

I bet you’d like to know?

Why the stringy thingy bits inside

Just make my brain a glow

My head is like spaghetti

When my teacher makes me think

Of sticky, tricky, thinky words

That makes my brain go ‘tink’

My head is like spaghetti

When numbers flow right past

They swirl and swim and sink and slop

And make my brain go….hey, please STOP!

My head is like spaghetti

When I’m asked to stand and speak

I shake and quake and tremble inside

My tummy’s hurting – being sick outside!

My head is like spaghetti

The lovely tasty kind

When my teacher lets me paint and draw

And use my artificial lion’s claw

My head is like spaghetti

Because I’m not like you at all

I’m special as I have some needs

Not through want, or ask, or personal greed

My head is like spaghetti

As I have a number of special gifts

Dyslexia and the Dysgraphia kind

And the disabled, quiet child that’s blind

My head is like spaghetti

When I cannot see or share

The beauty that I see inside

My brain full of colours, joy and flare

My head is like spaghetti

The finest type you see

When teachers let me learn and think

Even though I know not when to wink

So, time to thank them for their special time

For not making me a child that whines

Like those other ordinary kids in the class

Who push and shove me to get right past

My head is like spaghetti

Full of thinking strands to share

But the biggest thanks is to all of you

The loving teachers that really care

Spaghetti is for sharing

Those strands that never end

So thank you teachers one and all

Who turn my brain into a nice neat ball

My head WAS like spaghetti

Until I wrote these long long lines

So that I could unravel

All the strands that gave me thinking signs

My head MAY be like spaghetti again

But that’s the joy of life

Spaghetti one day, gateaux next

My brain, such permanent strands, perplexed

My head is like spaghetti

When I need to share and talk

But time to stop and mute the strands

My brain, now sleepy in my hands

Sonjia Nkanc (2015)

It’s a very deep and thoughtful poem I believe. It says so many things. So, I will ask you to maybe unravel your own thinking about what this poem is really about and maybe share one or two of your own……

Do let me know what you think won’t you?

Ninja