Who are our people and how do we find them?

Hello hello! For our second week at Waters Elementary, we discussed stanzas and we discussed what it means to belong. Our poem for the day was José Olivarez’s “I Walk Into Every Room and Yell Where the Mexicans At”. We talked about why the speaker might feel lonely, why he looks for his people, and why this is still a poem, even if it’s essentially one big paragraph.

Finally, students wrote their own original poems about the people they belong to. Take a look below.

Ms. Smallwood’s Class

Rollercoaster Enthusiasts (Haikus)
by Caelan

you will hear the screams
we coaster enthusiasts
thrill seekers have fun

airborne is fun
you will really feel the rush
this is really fun

flying and diving
high speeds going really fast
that was a fun ride

I Walk Into a Room and Yell “Where the Moorsehouses At?”
by Lilian E.

I ring the doorbell
A loving family member opens the door and
pats me on the back.
I go into the tiny house and see soooooo
many family members
I awkwardly hug everyone of them and
say “Hi”
I see someone I know and run to them
We hang out in the back and play
Some family member from Ohio comes
out and plays with us

by Yusuf S.

I walk into rooms searching searching for my home
my home is where my people are where the conversations
never end, where the food tastes like the
sunny desert days, like the nice hot sun.

Things That Breathe
by Rae N.

Biotic organisms can breathe
We have very refined taste in what we inhale
Some of us can even drink water
Not all of us are still alive
But they are still our friends
All of us will die someday. 

Ms. Hooper’s Class

by Adalee H.

When I enter a room
I look for friendship bracelets stacked on their
I can see.
They are secretly humming and yearning
to listen to her music.
They are interested in football now.
You can feel a connection with
one another if you are a fan.

Athletic People
by Brennon H.

When I walk on the court, Energy rises within me.
When I walk on the field, my heart beats fiercely.
When I walk to the net, My mind fills with exhilaration.
But I know I am not the only who plays
sports every day.

Where the Filipinos at?
by Simon A.

Filipinos are nice, humble, resourceful, and
helpful. Our food is unique. We love
to do activities in the water. We
eat a lot of  meat and seafood. The
smell of their unique food fills the

Dynamyte Boyz
by Milo M.

When I enter the room
I look around
My brothers in blood

We are cut from the same vine
music twines us as one
the notes act as glue

My band members are here
I walk into the room and I see them
Simon, Sam, Calvin, clutching instruments
time for practice

Mr. D’s Class

A Deeper Thought
by Niko W.

Sometimes I look to the sky
and wonder three words: was what and
why. Why is this world such a mess, why must
there be death. Why must there be conflict.
I will look and wonder what. What
is this mess. What created the universe
Was religion correct. What happens when you
die. But what, I wonder most who am I, where
am I and what am I. Me. I am a deep

by Sam S.

A kid is very fun, we love to run. We love our food,
but only in a good mood. Our life is nice, but not when
we have lice. We love sports even when at resorts.
We have to go to school, even though we are cool.
Our life is easy, but not when we are queasy, When we
sleep we also count sheep. We love candy, especially when it is

Did you LaBoomStick???
by Michael D.

I get the bar to get my car,
started driving then started crying,
then ran over La BoomStick
and felt sick.



“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.