Home Is What We Eat

Hello, poetry lovers 🙂 I believe it’s important to bring what’s happening in the greater world into the classroom. In a lesson largely inspired by Stuti Sharma, this week we talked about what students know about the war in Israel-Palestine. Then we watched a clip from a 2012 documentary, My Neighborhood. It follows a young Palestinian named Mohamed, and his community’s interfaith quest to maintain Palestinian homes as they’re taken by Israeli settlers. Finally, we read “Home” by Palestinian-American poet Noor Hindi. In response, each student wrote about the food smells, sounds, and tastes that remind them of home.

Ms. Smallwood’s 6th Grade Class

by Alexa Brannan

“Alexa, dinner’s ready!”
my brother yells up to me
I run downstairs to the kitchen
only stopping once to wash my hands
I fill up my cup with milk
and slide into my chair
My dad hands me a plate
filled with sweet potato fries
as hot as fire
broccoli green as grass
and best of all
A turkey burger
my family starts eating
and we go aorund and say
what we’re grateful for
“This dinner”
“Playing with my friend”
and so much more
and when dinner’s over
I am glad I got to
eat such a yummy

My Home
by Yusuf S.

The mornings filled with the scents of eggs,
filled with the sounds of boiling tea.
Mornings like the sunrise of your day.
My home.

My Home 
by Harrison

The creamy noise of the pasta.
The cheese pull on pizza.
The beat of music at
the table.
The chatter at the table.
Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage.
After eating my stomach feels
like a pit.
Cause it ate too much.

Ms. Hooper’s 6th Grade Class

by Oliver R.

The soft bold aromas spill through the house like oil.
The smells pull me through the house like a fish to a bug.
The warm soup fresh out of the pan with crunchy onions and chives.

The soup is like a ray of sunlight on the top of my mouth.
The strong smells calm me down to sleep.

Christmas Dinner 
by Adalee H.

We gather at my grandma’s house ready to
Cheese, crackers, and walnuts there for our
I walk into the kitchen and dining room. It
smells as if heaven had a smell.
We finally come into the dinner
The plates shimmer like glass.
Pozole, salad, tacos, rice, mango plated on
the table.
We smile, give a toast then
enjoy love, happiness, and joy right
in front of us.

My Home
by Nathan G.

My dining room table is sacred to my

Greek food is sacred, my family is

Mediterranean food is sacred.

Our pita bread, soups, and salads are
a delicacy.

I love my pita bread with chicken
and hummus.

Our mom cooks everything, she is
amazing at it.

She is like Gordon Ramsay.

the food is a fancy restaurant’s
best meal.

Mr. D’s Sixth Grade Class

by Maddie J.

The kitchen table, full of memories in
the scratches
Eating french toast through batches and

Saturday mornings when you awake
the smell of french toast lingers like
butterflies throughout the air. split the
french toast so that it’s all fair.

Then the schools bells start ringing
from ear to ear
Remember its Saturday nothing to



“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.