John Cole: Good morning, everyone. Good morning. Audience: Good morning. John Cole: We're glad to have you at the Library of Congress today. My name is John Cole. I am the Director of something called the Center for the Book in the Library of Congress, and that means that I have a wonderful job that enables me to promote books and promote reading and promote poetry and promote the environment, and help promote River of Words, as well. Welcome to the winners. Welcome to the runners up. Welcome to the honorable mentions, and welcome to the families who are here for this very special occasion. I will just say a quick word. I'd like to know how many people have never been to the Library of Congress before. First time for many of you. We're very pleased you're here. You are in the original Library of Congress building, the first one, and it opened in 1897. And to get to this room you had to come down a pretty fancy hall. And there are fancy places throughout this Jefferson Building, and when you go down this hallway where the artwork is, you can look up and you'll see the nine muses -- the seven muses -- the nine muses, however many there are. They are all there, and that's part of the decoration of this building. It was decorated by American artists and American painters, and we're pleased you're here. And when we go to the other building for lunch, you'll find it a much more modern building. But we'll walk out through this great hall of the Library, and I'll point out some of the other features. I don't want to delay the beginning of our ceremony any more, so I'm pleased to turn the program over to Pamela Michael, who many of you know is the River of Words executive director, and co-founder with Bob Hass. But Pamela will start, and then introduce Bob Hass. Pamela. There she is. Let's give her a round of applause. [ applause ] Let me say we are still trying to get more chairs. It's wonderful to have a big crowd, but if some of the kids feel they might double up on some of those chairs until we have more, it would be appreciated. Thank you. Pamela Michael: Thank you, John. We have a little step in front of the podium for the shorter readers today, so all of us adults are going to be standing on this. John didn't mention it, but I was here a couple of weeks ago for a gathering of all the State Centers for the Book. There's one in every state, 50 of them. And I learned that this is the 30th anniversary of the Center for the Book, so congratulations to John for keeping this institution going for all that time. And thank you for hosting us. [ applause ] We did the ceremony in San Francisco for the California winners a couple of weeks ago, and when I was driving to that event I had this little image of how kids were coming from all over the state to the San Francisco Public Library, and it reminded me that they were all kinds of, like, drops of water in the watershed, and that we were all coming, as water in watersheds want to do, to a central point, and that each of those children and their families and friends and schoolmates were bringing their own stories and images and reflections of the places that they lived to share in this wonderful mix. And that's what's happened here, on an even bigger scale. We have kids from Alabama and Colorado and Maine and all over the country. Our international winner this year is from Kenya. And we have not been able to secure a visa for him yet, so he'll be at next year's ceremony. I'm going to bring up Robert Hass, who is going to bring up our poetry winners and finalists to read their works. And some of you have seen him before with the children. Most of you haven't; you're in for a real treat. A couple of days ago there was a medical crisis in Bob's family. And there was a chance he wasn't going to be able to come, and in hurried consultation with John Cole and Ann Boni and people from the Center for the Book we were thinking, "Oh my gosh, who could we get?" And we realized there's nobody who can do what Bob does. He has this way of -- and you'll see it in a minute -- of getting to the soul, to the heart of a poem. You'll hear the child read it, and then Bob will pick out this absolutely perfect -- the most salient point and say, "Did you hear that?" It might be about the rhythm or an image, and then the child will read it again and you will hear it and understand it in a completely different way because Bob has just plucked this little, most important fact. One of the dads of one of our winners who was at the San Francisco ceremony was talking about Bob's ability to do this, and he said that he had heard a poem called "Sowing; it was one of our winners who read in San Francisco, about gardening and the soil and whatnot, and he said the first time he heard it he thought, "Hmm," and then Bob, you know, waved his wand, pointed out this most perfect little piece of it, and he said that he understood it and he experienced it in a totally different way. And more important -- and this is one of the most powerful things that poetry can do -- the next weekend he was gardening, and he remembered that poem about planting seeds when he was gardening, and he said he thrust his hands into the soil and felt the pulse of the new seeds, you know. So anyway, Bob is not only a wonderful poet, but he's a poet who loves poetry and who helps others to love poetry. And we welcome all of you, and we want you to help us welcome Bob Hass to the podium. Thank you. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Thank you, Pam, very much. Thank you all, and welcome. Now, that's a difficult introduction, because now I have to deliver on the description. How many young writers are here? It's an important writing trick. When I was first starting to write, I wrote at the top of a story that the person said funny things, and my writing teacher, the wonderful novelist Wallace Stegner, said, "Never say that, because then you have to produce things that are funny down below. Write the funny things; don't tell them that it's funny." Well, it's wonderful to be here, and to be in this gorgeous room with you, and I want to congratulate all the children and all of the teachers and the parents, and thank you for being here today. The important thing I want to say about what we do with River of Words is to tell you the things that we're celebrating today. The first thing that we're celebrating is the creativity of you kids. And we're going to be honoring you and applauding you all day long, but right now this is for you, all of you children who are here. So would you all stand up, please? [ applause ] Yeah. And the second thing we're celebrating is the creativity of the parents and teachers of the kids. Would the parents and teachers and grandparents and aunts and uncles, family, all stand up? [ applause ] And the third thing we're celebrating -- and we don't need to ask it to stand up, because it's Spring and it's already doing it -- is the Earth. The power of renewal of the Earth in time, decades in the past and decades in the future, of crisis in the health of the Earth and its possibilities. And particularly what we want to celebrate today is love of place, Americans' love of their place. At the core of the idea of River of Words is the thinking of one of the important environmental writers of the 20th century, Aldo Leopold, from a book called Sand County Almanac. That is as important a book for 20th century writing as Henry David Thoreau's Walden was for 19th century writing. And so I want you kids, especially, to hear this. Aldo Leopold began his professional life getting educated by the US Forestry Service to go out in the early years of the century and take care of American forests. And he was from Iowa. He went to Yale University, to the School of Forestry, and he got sent out in a cowboy hat and chaps in 1905 into the woods and forests of America. And he saw that the forests were in trouble. Back in 1905 there were almost no deer left on the East coast. Now there are too many. The forests were being chopped down in a way that was -- without the roots of the trees, every time there was rain all of the topsoil was running off into the rivers. One of the results of this was in the 1930s, when there was a long drought in the southwest, people couldn't grow crops anymore. Topsoil is only about a foot and a half, sometimes three feet deep, and it's that topsoil that has all the energy that produces all our food; all our wealth, really, as a people comes from that topsoil. And he saw that we weren't taking care of the Earth, and he started to write about it. So did others at that time, and they started to organize. And he spent his whole professional life partly in the southwest and partly in the Midwest attending to place, attending to the love of the land and trying to teach people and train people to take care of the land. And he said in this book, at the end of his life, "We have to extend our sense of ethics of treating people decently and well from just human beings to the Earth itself." And in order to include the Earth inside our ethical system of what we understand it's our job to love and be decent to and take care of, we have to know the Earth. Because you can't love and take care of something that you don't know. The powerful thing about you kids, because you're out playing every day, or most every day, is that you already love the Earth. You already know it in the freshness of your senses. We get old and we forget all the time we spent out playing; we forget the smell of grass, the smell of trees and the look of flowers, which I confess -- as a kid I think I got sent to the hospital twice for stuffing daisies in my nose in competition with my friends, you know, and then we couldn't get them out. And we would have to go to the hospital or something. It's that kind of intimate knowledge that you still are close to and remember, and it's in the power of your writing and in your poetry. It's there right away. And now for 10 years, mostly because of the wonderful work of Pam Michael with the teachers, the artwork and the poetry of the kids of this country and in fact, of the world, is going back out into the world. The images that you produce are going to go back out into the world. The Environmental Protection Agency, which was really created out of Aldo Leopold's dream, sometimes uses the artwork of the River of Words children in the materials that they send to Congress when they report every two years on the state of the Earth. That's real power that you guys have, to give back in your words and in your images the freshness of your love of and response to the world back to the world. So that's one of the powers and the things we are celebrating today in the work that you're doing. And the other thing -- because we're in this room, we need to remind ourselves that we're celebrating this Library as a symbol of the heritage of the American people. You kids be clear about this: this belongs to you. It's the nature of our government that this is yours. The buildings in the federal capital belong to the people of the United States. As the land is going to be yours to take care of, this building is going to be yours to take care of. It's cultural heritage. It was started because -- I hope this is accurate -- John Cole, besides being one of the great activists for literacy and for children in this country, is also the premier historian of the Library of Congress. I believe the Library of Congress got started because Thomas Jefferson donated a collection of books. Is that -- John Cole: Close enough, Bob. Robert Hass: The idea was if you're going to have a free people, they have to have free access to ideas. And people in the new government -- and the kind of government we had was a new idea -- had to find their way to books. So people began to donate their personal libraries, and then the new Congress began to fund money and build buildings for this Library. That's a symbol of free people and free ideas. And so you kids are today, by your presence here, contributing to this long tradition; a real and living thing that you belong to, that belongs to you and that is going to have a future through you. So it's a wonderful thing to be here today. I just want to say one word to you about why River of Words, and why water, and then we'll get to the ceremony and to your voices, which are more interesting than my going on and on and on about this. I have a little story. I told it last year, but it's so powerful I'll tell it to you again this year. Cranes, as a kind of bird -- as a species there are 12 species of crane in the world. Eight of the species are on the endangered list. They are apt to go extinct, as a species, from the Earth. Three of them are in real trouble and one of them is okay, but we really have to be careful about their habitat, to preserve them. But eight of them are going, and they're going because the places where they have lived have gone. I don't know how old you would think cranes were as a species; I wasn't clear until I started reading about it and thinking about it. You know how old they are? Eight million years old, cranes. Human beings aren't even a million years old, they think; in fact, maybe only 300,000 years old. We're pretty young creatures on this old Earth, and the cranes, these big beautiful birds, have been flying back and forth from the northern hemisphere to the southern hemisphere, guarding their eggs, raising their young for millions and millions and millions of years. And now, because of the way human beings have been so clever in adapting to the environment, we're wiping out all the places where they lived. And they're going from the Earth. And that process can be stopped if human beings change their behavior. And in order to change their behavior they have to love the Earth. And in order to love the Earth they have to know the Earth. And so we have to be reminded, and remind them, and teach ourselves to be better stewards of the Earth than we have been in the past. The funny part of this story that I tell is I got to go to the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea. About a half a century ago there was a war between two factions in Korea. The United States got on the side of one, and the Russians and the Chinese got on the side of the other. And they fought to a draw. They divided the country in half, and they created a strip of land full of guns and mines that still divides the two countries. It still is kind of a scary place, from one side of the country to another, along this very beautiful river valley. And one of the things that happened, from this place not having any people in it for 50 years, was it became an accidental game preserve. And two of the kinds of crane that are in trouble, the white naped crane and the redheaded crane, are thriving again because there's this space where human beings left them alone. So it's a funny kind of irony that if there's peace between North and South Korea, and they stop having this militarized zone, and people start doing the regular kind of economic development that they have been doing, we'll get peace and the cranes will be gone; two species gone from the Earth. That's the complicated world you kids are inheriting. I know there's a whole group of you back there, so I want you to see that I'm talking to you as well. Your job is the future -- tigers, cranes, polar bears, the weather -- and at the heart of this job, the part of it you can take care of is your own place, where you live, and the heart of that is the way water flows through the world, because it's the system that supports all life. If you think about America, its towns and its cities and its roads and its highways, you're talking about water. Our roads are built over paths that were next to walking paths that the Native American peoples walked on, because before the Native American peoples were here those were the paths that the animals walked on. And where the animals were headed was toward water. Our highways follow the railroads. The railroads followed the covered wagon trails. The covered wagon trails followed the Indian trading trails. The Indian trading trails followed the animal paths. And the animal paths followed the rivers. We're now at that step, removed from it, but the most powerful and precious resource for us and for all the animals and plants and birds of this country is our water, and so we wanted you guys, in the art that you do, at the core of your imaginations to remind yourselves and your schoolmates, as your art and poetry gets hung in the schools and the whole country through art publications and through the way your work spreads, of the power of water and the power of our stewardship on the American Earth. Well, that's a long way of saying it's a wonderful time to be here. And you get to hear some exciting work today, and so we should move on to it now. And I better put my glasses on. So, how's the sound system? Is it okay back there? So, now, the poets first. The order is going to be the poets and then the artists and then the special prize for -- there are some regional prizes, and one of them is to our partners here in the Anacostia River Watershed, and then the teacher of the year. And that's how we're going to do that. And then after, we're going to have a group photo with all the kids, and then after that, you kids, artists and poets will probably -- there are people here who will probably want you to sign books like regular celebrity authors, so you can get to do that if you're willing. It would be a great honor for everybody to have their autograph of you. The first of our poetry finalists for today is Carlos Alameda. He's 11 years old from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, from Fulton School. His teacher, happily for me, is a wonderful poet and old friend of mine, Barbara Strasko. Please welcome Carlos up here. [ applause ] Carlos Alameda: "Colorful Shooting Star Night." In Puerto Rico it's midnight. We are on the beach. My friend Jason is on his cell phone. I'm tired and looking at the sky. Out of nowhere I see a blue star go WHAM like a getaway car. Five minutes later Jason says, Junito, look at the shooting star! And you didn't believe me before? I say. We see more colors that night. Yellow, a brightish white. I wonder if they see them in the city. The sky that night was like a flash of snow falling in the streets. Robert Hass: That's wonderful. Could you read it in Spanish? Carlos Alameda: En Puerto Rico era media noche. Estbamos en la playa. Mi amigo Jason estaba en el cellular. Estaba cansado y miraba al cielo. De repente de la nada vio una estrella fugaz Que hizo Wham...como un carro volador. Cinco minutos ms tarde Jason dice, Junito mira la estrella fugaz! Y no me cresste anteriormente. Vemos muchos colores esta noche. El cielo esta noche parece un destello cayendo sobre las calles. [ applause ] Robert Hass: I don't know if we're going to have time to have every single poem read twice, but Carlos, hang in here because I just wanted to say a word about this. There are so many wonderful things about your poem. You're a writer. I don't know what kind of writer you're going to be or what you're going to do with it, but you certainly have the gift; and that he was able to do it in both languages. I love the fact that cell phones are getting into poems; that the contemporary world is. I love the way you make us see the sky. I love the way that you say, "I wonder if they see them in the city." That seems like just such a wonderful moment of reflection, and sharing about the way the world is. And then that metaphor at the end, "The sky that night was like a flash of snow falling in the street." It was just wonderful. It makes the whole thing come alive, and the way -- you'll see it's in three-line stanzas, actually almost like a sonnet structure. And it just goes image, image, image in such a clear minded way. Could you give us the English once more, Carlos? Carlos Alameda: "Colorful Shooting Star Night." In Puerto Rico it's midnight. We are on the beach. My friend Jason is on his cell phone. I'm tired and looking at the sky. Out of nowhere I see a blue star go WHAM like a getaway car. Five minutes later Jason says, Junito, look at the shooting star! And you didn't believe me before? I say. We see more colors that night. Yellow, a brightish white. I wonder if they see them in the city. The sky that night was like a flash of snow falling in the streets. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Thank you so much. You have a wonderful poem; the fact that you wrote it so well. Pamela Michael: I just want to tell people that Carlos and another classmate got up at -- what time this morning? Carlos Alameda: At 5:00. Pamela Michael: They left Pennsylvania -- their principal drove them here, leaving at 5:00 this morning. So, thank you to -- who is the principal? Thank you. [ applause ] Robert Hass: So wonderful. Carlos, there's a Korean poet monk who is a dear friend of mine, 78 years old, and has been a long-time peace activist and creator. He has a poem about shooting stars which I have always loved. It's a very short poem. It goes, "Wow, you recognize me." Our next reader is from Denver, Colorado; John Davies-Schley. I hope I pronounced the name right. John, are you -- Pamela Michael: Schley. Robert Hass: Schley. John's poem was submitted independently. John Davies-Schley: "Hiss." It's the hiss of fire and water meeting. It's the sound that spreads to the air. The sound that startles the woodlands. The sound that sends the largest bear to the farthest tree. A once calm river bank is engulfed in flames. The birds return days later to find a riverbank in ruins. Surprisingly, the river still runs, So do the creatures' spirits. [ applause ] Robert Hass: There are several wonderful things that you did here. One is that it's the sound, the sound, the sound, but it's really not until we get to "The once calm riverbank is engulfed in flames" that it really dawns on you that the hiss you're talking about is a forest fire; the power of destruction, also of creation in the natural world. And he just serves -- it's a skinny poem in that modern -- you know, he serves it up, just a little image phrase, one after another. Can we hear it again? John Davies-Schley: Okay. It's the hiss of fire and water meeting. The sound that sends birds to the air. The sound that startles the woodland. The sound that sends the largest bear to the farthest tree. A once calm river bank is engulfed in flame. The birds return days later to find a riverbank in ruins. Surprisingly, the river still runs. So do the creatures' spirits. Robert Hass: That's wonderful. And you read it so well, John. Read it so well. Pamela Michael: A little word about John. John was a grand prize winner in 2005 when we had our ceremony in San Francisco for the first time; a big ceremony as part of UN World Environment Day. And he was incredibly sick that day, and he had to read his poem. So welcome back, John; you look much healthier. Wait, wait. Robert Hass: We made a rule that you can only be grand prize winner once, so then after that, these young poets that are just so good, they keep doing interesting work every year, come back as finalists. Thank you so much. "The sound that sends the largest bear to the farthest tree is wonderful." So many things are in this. Our next reader is from Alna, Maine. His name is Noah Jordan; he's seven years old. He comes from the Center for Teaching and Learning, and his teacher is Ted DeMille. Noah. [ applause ] Noah Jordan: I perch high up. I cling to the sky. I soar over woods and forests. I sing in the high hidden leaves of tall trees. I fly south when the white flakes touch my feathers. I am the bird. [ applause ] Robert Hass: You know what, the gorgeous phrase there is "high hidden leaves." I sing in the high -- then he has a line break -- "high hidden leaves of tall trees." Could we hear it again, Noah? Noah Jordan: "Bird." I perch high up. I cling to the sky. I soar over woods and forests. I sing in the high hidden leaves of tall trees. I fly south when the white flakes touch my feathers. I am the bird. Robert Hass: Wow, that's wonderful. Thank you so much. That's just great. Thank you so much. [ applause ] Robert Hass: There you are. Wonderful reading. Strong reading. It took courage to stand up and read that poem. Our next reader is Emir Norbokchese [ spelled phonetically ] -- I'm not sure how to say your last name, Emir -- age 11 from Vienna, Virginia, Kilmer Middle School. Teacher, Mary Kay Folk. Emir is not here. Let me read Emir's poem. "Summer is Over." Close the barbecue. Close the sun. Close the home run games we won. Close the picnic. Close the pool. Close the summer. Open school. [ applause ] You guys can sing that backward, because you're getting ready for summer vacation right now. So our next reader is Maddie Roach, who is also 11, from Warrenton, Virginia, and her poem was submitted independently. Maddie Roach: "With the Flow." Our wonders ponders calculations misunderstandings all of our thoughts converge and collide explode and expand falling tumbling spinning floating ending and being born Thoughts flow down the River of Life and into the Watershed Robert Hass: Thank you so much. So, what got you writing this poem? Maddie Roach: I was just [ inaudible ] . Robert Hass: You want to say it in there. Maddie Roach: I was just writing in the car, and I started thinking about how thoughts just kept going and turning into new thoughts. Robert Hass: There's a wonderful image. Thank you. And then, what she said with that -- I love that so much, because that's how poems get made, from exactly that kind of thought; consciousness is a river. And she made the poem centered in the middle of the column, not brought out to the margin, and almost one word or sometimes one phrase. "All of our thoughts" is a phrase, "thoughts slow down" is a phrase, right down the middle of the page with such elegance, creating the flow of the thought that you had in the back of the car. "With the Flow," it's called. Could we hear it again, Maddie? Maddie Roach: "With the Flow." Our wonders ponders calculations misunderstandings all of our thoughts converge and collide explode and expand falling tumbling spinning floating ending and being born Thoughts flow down the River of Life and into the Watershed Robert Hass: Thank you so much for that. [ applause ] And our next reader and national finalist -- I have to say again, to you kids, we now get something under 10,000 poems and works of art every year. We have 20,000 this year that we have to go through. And the wonderful work just jumps out at you. You know, it's not that surprising, but it's way deeper than we can reflect here today. So, you know, it's very hard to choose among these wonderful poems. And another of our national finalists is Crystal Schwaigert. She's 12, from Aurora, Colorado, from Mrachek Middle School, Crystal, are you here with us? No? Pamela Michael: She's coming. Robert Hass: Here she is. Did I pronounce your last name right, Schwaigert? Crystal Schwaigert: Schwaigert. Robert Hass: Schwaigert. I did get it right. Crystal Schwaigert: "Is There a Place to Rest My Soul?" As snow flake stars fall through my scars; As dusk grows restless and valleys get wide; Winds get heavy and souls go hard, living through nightmares. Is there love, is there hope Is there light in this unraveling loophole? Robert Hass: You know -- come on up here a minute. One of the things that we noticed about the work this year is the feeling of depth, of worry and concern in them. And it's also something I notice in the writing when young poets get to be your age. And the title of this, "Is There a Place to Rest My Soul?" sounds flat out like a gospel song; sounds like it comes from one of the oldest spiritual traditions in this country, and was very moving to me. And also, then, the rhyme on "through my scars" and "souls get hard," which she goes right past to "living through nightmares." Poetry takes honesty, and this is just -- it's an honest and powerful poem. Could you -- we'd like to hear it again. I'd love to hear you say a word about how you came to this title for it. Remember? So, just read the poem. I don't want to put you on the spot here. Crystal Schwaigert: As snow flake stars fall through my scars; As dusk grows restless and valleys get wide; Winds get heavy and souls go hard, living through nightmares. Is there love, is there hope Is there light in this unraveling loophole? Robert Hass: That's a wonderful poem. [ applause ] Thank you so much. Again, you'll be able to look at the form of these, and get a sense of them in the book. Our next reader and national finalist is 11 years old; Jalesha Robertson from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, also Fulton School, and a student of Barbara Strasko's. Jalesha, please come up. [ applause ] Jalesha Robertson: "North Carolina." In the countryside of North Carolina it's beautiful. The sun is like a giant star during the day lighting the world up, telling everybody "Hi, I'm back." In the countryside of North Carolina the trees are bright, green, swishing, dancing back and forth In the wind's strong breeze. "The cold is coming." In the countryside of Charlotte, North Carolina right across the street from Aunte A'Minda's house is a pond with snakes and fishes in it. "Catch me if you can." In the pond there are weeds that sway side to side As quiet as smoke, as gentle as fur. Robert Hass: That last stanza -- she's so amazing. I just wanted to point out -- you'll see in the book, two of the phrases are set up as quotations, telling everybody -- "Hi, I'm back" is one of the things the world says, and then just said in there as a remark, in quotation marks, is "the cold is coming." It's something that somebody says, and then in the final quotation, it's as if the snakes and the fishes are saying it: "catch me if you can." And then that -- you come down, and then listen again to that wonderful, sudden set of similes at the end of the poem. It's wonderful. Jalesha Robertson: "North Carolina." In the countryside of North Carolina it's beautiful. The sun is like a giant star during the day lighting the world up, telling everybody "Hi, I'm back." In the countryside of North Carolina the trees are bright, green, swishing, dancing back and forth In the wind's strong breeze. "The cold is coming." In the countryside of Charlotte, North Carolina right across the street from Aunte A'Minda's house is a pond with snakes and fishes in it. "Catch me if you can." In the pond there are weeds that sway side to side As quiet as smoke, as gentle as fur. Robert Hass: What a wonderful poem. [ applause ] "Quiet as smoke, as gentle as fur." Our next national -- no, we've come to the grand prizewinners. So, our age categories are kindergarten through grade two, grades three to six, grades seven to nine, and 10 to 12. And it's always hard to pick the winner. There are so many wonderful poems, but the finalists are always quite thrilling. And the grand prizewinner in Category 1, kindergarten through second grade, is Jose Perez, age seven, from Sarasota, Florida. [ applause ] Jose Perez: Rivers splatter, hitting rocks below. But don't be afraid, there is poetry deep inside each crevice. [ applause ] Robert Hass: What a wonderful poem. Five lines. I don't know if you know; that's the traditional length of classical Japanese poetry. Their idea was just exactly enough room to say anything you need to say. And listen to the way this unwinds again. Would you read it once more for us, Jose? Jose Perez: Rivers splatter, hitting rocks below. But don't be afraid, there is poetry deep inside each crevice. [ applause ] Robert Hass: That's wonderful. Thank you. That sort of sums up the whole spirit of what we do. Congratulations on your poem. Pamela Michael: I have a little something to tell you about Jose. He came to this country from Puerto Rico a year and a half, two years ago, and there are many seven-year-olds who were born here who would not be using the word "crevice" in a poem, in their native tongue. So I just think it's extraordinary, his use of language at such a young age, and acquiring English so recently, so special congratulations. We have two sets of grandparents here, too. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Where are both sets of grandparents? Are you here? Stand up. Congratulations to you. The words, Jose, but also the feel for the rhythm, of the delivery of each of the individual lines is something. Almost all of you kids who are here today, the poetry writers, you're born writers. I don't know what you're going to do with it, but it's unmistakably a gift. And I hope that you keep cultivating it. Our grand prize winner in Category 2 is from Lancaster, Pennsylvania. She's 11 years old. Her teacher is Barbara Strasko at Fulton School, and her name is Shyann Graham. Would you welcome her, please? [ applause ] There you go, my dear. Shyann Graham: "New Beginnings." Jazz is like me skipping rocks through the sea, floating to the moon, dreaming of being alone in the dark with only starlight to guide me. I am wishing for someone new to show me the way of hope, the way of happiness. I am sitting watching the sunlight like a bird watches her eggs, like a museum watches its diamonds, like the ocean skipping rocks back to me, but only I can see the joy of the sea's waves moving through the music, the violin moving to a new beat. [ applause ] Robert Hass: There are so many wonderful things to hear in this poem that I can begin with. When you say "I'm wishing for someone new to show me the way of hope," when I was reading this I thought, "You're the one, girl." Just listen to the way this moves. You know, it has -- excuse the expression -- sort of booty shaking energy. The beginning of it evokes jazz and dreams, and then from there it slows down to, you know, "Jazz is like me, skipping through the sea," and then slows down to "I'm watching the sunlight like a bird watches her eggs," which is terrific, but then "like a museum watches diamonds, like the ocean skipping rocks back to me," which then circles back to the beginning of the poem where the kid -- it's just a knockout. And then listen to it, kind of like a diver doing one more little flip before it enters the water, finishing itself off. It's just a wonderful poem. Would you read it again, please? Shyann Graham: "New Beginnings." Jazz is like me skipping rocks through the sea, floating to the moon, dreaming of being alone in the dark with only starlight to guide me. I am wishing for someone new to show me the way of hope, the way of happiness. I am sitting watching the sunlight like a bird watches her eggs, like a museum watches its diamonds, like the ocean skipping rocks back to me, but only I can see the joy of the sea's waves moving through the music, the violin moving to a new beat. [ applause ] Robert Graham: Wow. Thank you so much. The great founding figure in jazz violin was a half Italian, half gypsy fiddle player named Stephane Grappelli, Shyann, who played jazz in Paris in the 1920s and 1930s, on into the '40s. And just recently there's been a big revival of jazz violin, and there's a long article about it in the New York Times, and all the young players who are coming along, so that you evoke the sea and jazz violin and made the rhythms of music and the rhythms of water one thing in a poem was -- gee, what a knockout. It was just wonderful work. In Category 3, grade seven to nine, our grand prize, which -- well, I'm going to let her tell you what its inspirations were -- was written by Maddy Johnson, who is 14 years old, from Bar Harbor, Maine. Maddy. There you are. [ applause ] Maddy Johnson: "7 Haiku on Goldfish and Why." I. Why don't the fish drown!? Incessantly they circle the circular bowl. II. Quoth the painter: "I wouldn't mind being the Ver- million goldfish." III. What if a duck swooped down and ate it up? Poor soul- would it even mind? IV. All of you, drink up! The seafaring fish don't mind; cups are landish things. V. I've concluded ducks and fish share intimacy - as I do with plums. VI. Tell me, what do you think amuses a fish? No, no, I've tried juggling. VII. Now, consider the hummingbird - flighty, fast, but not quite so fluid. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Maddy noted under these seven haiku what her inspirations were. Would you mind reading your -- Maddy Johnson: Stan and Oliver, who are two of my goldfish; rest in peace. Henri Matisse, who is a Fauvist painter from the 19th century. Rumi, who is a mystic poet from the 13th century. Wallace Stevens, a poet, and Orrin Johnson, who is my brother. Robert Hass: Her brother, goldfish, painters, teachers. The wit of these poems and also the great hype of poets is that in order to make poetry you have to really be open to your weirdest thoughts, so that if you think a thing like "ducks and fish share intimacy like I do with plums," it's so odd, and that's something of the oddness and just delight of your mind, is in these things as we hear them. Would you read us your "7 Haiku on Goldfish and Why" again? Maddy Johnson: Why don't the fish drown!? Incessantly they circle the circular bowl. Quoth the painter: "I wouldn't mind being the Ver- million goldfish." What if a duck swooped down and ate it up? Poor soul- would it even mind? All of you, drink up! The seafaring fish don't mind; cups are landish things. I've concluded ducks and fish share intimacy - as I do with plums. Tell me, what do you think amuses a fish? No, no, I've tried juggling. Now, consider the hummingbird - flighty, fast, but not quite so fluid. Robert Hass: Oh, that's wonderful. [ applause ] Thank you so much. Pamela Michael: Maddy, like many of our grand prize winners, was a finalist a couple of -- Maddy, when were you a finalist? Maddy Johnson: I really don't know. Pamela Michael: Okay. Two years ago. Thank you, Maddy. Robert Hass: So our grand prize winner for the sophomores, juniors and seniors in our high schools is a young man whose poetry we have been watching for a long time. He's very gifted. He's now 18 years old. Welcome Billy Creed from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, LSU Lab School. His teacher is Candence Robillard. [ applause ] Billy Creed: Plunged. Into a nightmare Anxious, tired, hungry we arrived. It looked like nothing. Where a proud house once reigned over water oaks And stood down mausoleums of Confederate dead A single tree remained. A towering water oak, with limbs beckoning for nightfall, Receiving only an august haze, choking fall from its leaves. Roots that swim through la terre noire like ducks on the pond In the back, it was my tree. I played on it during those monotonous summers. Anything to get out of that proud house. So proud it had no air conditioning, So proud it had no TV. Anything to stay away from that graveyard That ate footballs and came alive with "Dixie" at night fall. It used to have a swing. But now it just has a rope. Tangled, Knotted, Broken. A lot like our family, A lot like our city, A lot like our home. Robert Hass: After Katrina hit, we went into our files and found dozens of poems and works of art by kids from Louisiana, including a poem about the dike that broke, two years later, by Billy, which you'll find in an earlier version. So, do you think some poets just have radar? They just have radar. And that young kid's poem about the Berwick dike made us pay special attention to Billy. And this is just -- you know, it's a grownup poem, and so much of what's great and terrible about this whole history is here in its full complexity; the graveyard where Dixie comes up at nightfall, the mausoleums of the Confederate dead, the towering water oak. The sense of what's both alive and tragic in the history of the place, and it's just an amazing. I want to say adult, because there's a grownup sense of tragedy in this poem, alongside its sense of hope. It's really wonderful work, Billy. Let's hear it again. Billy Creed: Plunged. Into a nightmare Anxious, tired, hungry we arrived. It looked like nothing. Where a proud house once reigned over water oaks And stood down mausoleums of Confederate dead A single tree remained. A towering water oak, with limbs beckoning for nightfall, Receiving only an august haze, choking fall from its leaves. Roots that swim through la terre noire like ducks on the pond In the back, it was my tree. I played on it during those monotonous summers. Anything to get out of that proud house. So proud it had no air conditioning, So proud it had no TV. Anything to stay away from that graveyard That ate footballs and came alive with "Dixie" at night fall. It used to have a swing. But now it just has a rope. Tangled, Knotted, Broken. A lot like our family, A lot like our city, A lot like our home. [ applause ] Robert Hass: I was just asking Billy what his plans are for next year. He's going on to college. He'll be starting at Tulane in the Fall. I want to talk to his English teachers there ahead of time. So, these are our poetry finalists and winners. All the poets, would you stand up? [ applause ] You know, writing is one thing, and standing up before a bunch of people, especially in a room like this, and reading is another thing. And you all did just beautifully; that power of projecting your words. And if you were nervous doing it, you know, take a deep breath, because you're going to get chances to do it again. And it's great power that you have, to be able to do that, and a gift to be able to communicate in that way. And you also looked great, all of you, in your outfits. So, now we're going to come to the art. So this is about halfway, so all of you kids, if you want to just stand up and shake a little bit, or stand up and wave your arms or do something... Pamela Michael: So, not all of you have books in front of you. Very few do, actually. The kids got them in their gift bags. But this year's book is dedicated to someone. Her name is Nancy Taylor, and she and her partner of 10 years, Dr. Edwin Loo -- Ed Loo, who is going to say a few words in a second -- were wonderful friends of River of Words. I met Ed - actually, Bob and I met him at the same time in California, at the very beginning of River of Words. He works for USEPA, and we were giving a talk to some group about water quality monitoring. And Ed was there, and he came up afterwards, and he was so enthusiastic about what we were doing and said, "You know, when you come to Washington I want you to come to the EPA. I want to talk to you more about this." And he and his partner, Nancy, for years, at the end of this ceremony every year -- which I can tell you, our little staff is kind of drained when this is over. They had a house on Capitol Hill, and they would have a cocktail party, and they would invite us and anybody we wanted to invite, and they would invite people they thought it was important to learn about River of Words. And we'd arrive, and Nancy made the world's best martinis, and we would just relax. And they're wonderful hosts, and Ed has continued to be. Nancy left the Earth a month ago, and so we have dedicated this year's anthology to her. She was a lifelong educator, taught at Catholic University, was a specialist in special ed, in early childhood education. And we'd like Ed to come up and just say a few words. Edwin Loo. [ applause ] Edwin Loo: Well, this is a great honor for me and for Nancy. Nancy spent her whole career in the DC area in literacy, early childhood literacy and special education, and she would be so pleased every year to see the young poets and their creativity. And so in her honor I'm going to read from the Psalms; Psalms 24, as translated by Steven Mitchell. The earth belongs to the Lord. And everything on it is his. For he founded it in an empty space And breathed his own life breath into it. Filling it with manifold creatures, each one precious in his sight. Who is fit to hold power and worthy to act in God's place? Those with a passion for the truth who are horrified by injustice, Who act with mercy to the poor and take up the cause of the helpless, Who have let go of selfish concerns and see the whole earth as sacred, Refusing to exploit her creatures or foul her waters and lands. Their strength is in their compassion. God's light shines through their hearts. Their children's children will bless them, And the work of their hands will endure. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Thank you, Ed, so much. Thank you, Nancy, for your generosity. This program exists because of Pam, because of her effort and dedication, but there are lots of other adults, and -- Pamela Michael: And Nora. Robert Hass: And this year and last year, Nora, who is here. Nora, where are you? She's probably busy doing -- anyway, we have a board; we have people who help us raise money, we have people who donate money to us. We have the inestimable John Cole, whose generosity has helped us every year. [ applause ] But without people like Ed and Nancy, we just couldn't do this at all. Now, the art finalists -- the first is from Watsonville. I'm not sure everyone is here for these, are they? Pamela Michael: Zeth is here. Robert Hass: Just Zeth Blanco from Watsonville, California. Pamela Michael: And we have -- let's see, do I just push an arrow to make this go forward? Oh. One second. I got it. There we are. Robert Hass: This is "Hawk Baby." My wife saw this and said, "I want one right now." She loved this so much. Could you say a word, Zeth, about what you were thinking about when doing this drawing? Zeth Blanco: I made some bird scratches, the hawk scratches. Pamela Michael: See underneath, the little scratches that the hawk made. Robert Hass: Uh-huh, it's so wonderful. This should be yours. It's really wonderful that it's a kind of combination between a fish and a hawk, making its scratches there. Almost looks like a fish, with that part, and then when you look longer you see it is a hawk with its beak and its bright eye, and scratching, and it's just a baby hawk. So alive. Pamela Michael: Zeth, what school do you go to? Zeth Blanco: Landmark. Pamela Michael: And is your teacher Linda Cover? Zeth Blanco: Yes. Pamela Michael: Yeah, our teacher of the year, who you'll meet later. A lot of her students are winners and finalists this year. Congratulations. Robert Hass: Thank you, my dear, so much. That is just stunning, besides you being a wonderful artist. I hope you're having fun here in Washington, are you? So it's a little scary being up here. There is a family that has practically become a River of Words family, because year after year they submit just wonderful work, and it's the Darham family from Bozeman, Montana. And one of our art finalists this year is Ella Darham. Ella, would you come on up? [ applause ] The interesting thing about watching you guys is watching your styles change over time. And this is new, and the sense of color is just so dazzling. One of our board members, and the judge, the final judge of the art contest, is a man named Thacher Hurd. You guys will know of his name because he is himself a children's art book illustrator, but he's also the son of Clement Hurd, who is the man who wrote Good Night Moon, which is a book you probably all know; one of the most wonderful of all children's books. And Thacher can't be here, but he just fell in love with this, and partly with a sense that I only primitively have, of the way you manage color on the surface. Can you say a word about what you're up to, Ella? Ella Darham: Well, this painting is kind of a bird's eye view of the forest floor, and you have the rocks with all the lichen. And then, being in Montana we have a lot of this natural beauty, and especially around our house, so it's based off of kind of where we live. Robert Hass: Can you hear in the back? Great. Okay, good. Thanks. Pamela Michael: One second. I just want to say something about this. I was talking to Nan, Ella's mom, who is an artist and art teacher, and all four Darham children are finalists this year, as they were last year. Ella and her sister Mira have been grand prize winners in the past. I was talking about the amazing color that the Darham family has in their paintings, and Nan told me that it's from paint that she got before she was married, before she even thought of having children. It's not made anymore, and she said it's kind of miraculous because she keeps watering it down each year, and it's like a little magical pot of paint that doesn't seem to -- and I said, "Well, maybe it will last until all four children are out of the house, and you will have had the paint for their lifetimes." So, look at the originals out in the hallway, because these scans can't do justice to this vibrant paint. So congratulations, Ella. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Ella was just a little girl when we first saw her work. Now we're going to invite up here her brother, Jackson Darham, who is 16. Pamela Michael: Twin brother. Robert Hass: Twin brother. Pamela Michael: There we are. Jackson Darham: All right. This is my painting, "Neighbors," and it's of a whole bunch of animals like bears, foxes, ants even, and rabbits. And they're all in their dens and they're all sleeping. And the reason why I named it "Neighbors" is because they all are living together. All of them are at peace; there's no tension. It's all totally just quiet, and this -- let's see. So I named it because everybody is happy, and it's kind of like a community, and it's all like a whole bunch of neighbors together. They're all there, and they're all right next to each other, and they seem to coexist with one another. And that's why I named it "Neighbors." Robert Hass: If you take a look there's a womb in this, of course, and its imagery, and the replenishment in recovery, sleeping. And so it's also implicitly a winter painting, down under the Earth. But you talk about it, Jackson, as if it were a poem. Here is our next finalist, Max Darham, age 17. Come on up, Max. [ applause ] This, a landscape -- you can see these kids are all working Max Darham: This is just a landscape of sort of the mountains around our home, the Bridger Mountains in Montana, and the sunsets that we occasionally see from our house. And playing with all the different colors, you can create a nice sunset. Robert Hass: Thank you. Pamela Michael: Max is going to Bennington next Fall. Robert Hass: Thank you. Next is the youngest of the Darhams, Mira, whose style, as you'll see, is different yet again. Mira, come on up here. [ applause ] Mira Darham: This painting is about where I live, 'cause there's lots of birds, animals and mountain goats, but not really -- I don't see any, but lots of mountains around our house. And bears, they come to my house, usually in the summer. And we don't have a pond, but we have fish near our house. Robert Hass: Thank you so much. Pamela Michael: Mira is also a former grand prize winner. Great. Very pretty dress. Nan, could you come up a second? I just want their mother to say a couple of words, because we were talking about the way in which the family has kind of embraced River of Words over the years. And it's really unique, and we want to also celebrate the wonderful teacher. [ applause ] Nan Darham: I want to thank River of Words for teaching my children to explore every day; to look into the skies, to notice the clouds, snow on the mountains, shadows, light on the fields and the moon above the trees. River of Words asked them to smell rain on dry dirt and to taste tart chokecherries. Over the years they traveled through marshes, sinking bare feet into mud, and paddled miles of rivers past beaver dams and rafts of pelicans. They touched beetles and butterflies, rough bark of spruce and soft lichen on the ridge. They guess where the elk herd might be, up on the hill or down by the pond. Is it the sound of the coyotes, the sand hill crane or the owl that they heard that night in their sleep? River of Words has invited them to the dance of the blue herons in the mist, the funeral of a bear cub, and to feel the pulse of a world in their hearts. Thank you for welcoming my children into the arms of dreams and questions. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Thank you so much. Pamela Michael: The tree doesn't grow far -- what's that thing about the oak? What am I trying to say? Robert Hass: That thing, yeah. Yeah, that's even better. So I think we have been seeing Mira's work since she was five, so I'm starting to think of her like Picasso; like, "Oh, she's moving into her middle period here." Look at this. Quite remarkable. Feels like an American feel for space that you instantly recognize, and it's by Grant Dohrenwend, 14, Madison, Alabama. Wonderful work. Grant Dohrenwend: This is my work. It's called "The Untouched," and it was just an open field I saw, and you don't see many places like this anymore. So I just thought it would be great to call it "The Untouched." Robert Hass: Great, great. Thank you. Pamela Michael: And Grant's teacher, Peggy Hickerson, is here. You want to stand up? There she is. Robert Hass: Peggy. These stands of native trees -- you know, you kids don't know that in the early days you could walk from the Atlantic Coast to the Mississippi River, about 1500 miles, without ever leaving the forest; you could be under the canopy of the forest the whole time. And there are just stretches, patches of the native forest left in some places. I got to take a tour of the state of Iowa with a woman who had just written an ecological history of Iowa, and she had a sense of where each of these stands were, what life they protected, how they could be allowed to expand in ways that would improve the soil and the quality of water throughout the state of Iowa. So there's also something really poignant and alive in this image of a stand of trees. Here is a waterfall in a rain forest. Alan Gan, six years old, Highland Park, New Jersey. [ applause ] Can you see, Alan? Now, you know what? I'm going to do something here. Is this okay? Can you say one word about what inspired you to do that drawing? Alan Gan: I like rainfall, so I did that drawing. Robert Hass: Well, it's really wonderful. [ applause ] Pamela Michael: Thank you very much. Robert Hass: Thank you so much. Pamela Michael: Alan Gan. Robert Hass: Yeah. And like an artist, he also has on a really terrific suit with a gorgeous tie to go with it. This is so alive, Alan. The artist who looked at the work, again, of thousands and thousands of children, one of the things he said about this is that the feel of composition and design, the way that you have organized the different parts of picture have just the combination of stillness and energy that the world itself has, in the way it has the strong cascades, and some of it has straight lines, and then it has especially where the splashes and the trees are, and the clouds, these more rounded forms; that you just had a wonderful feeling for the way the world was, and were able to convey it to other people. Here's another national finalist, Haylee Henry, Thorsby, Alabama, "Ocean's Castle." Haylee is eight years old. [ applause ] Haylee Henry: I drew this picture because I love the beach and I love how the sand feels. [ applause ] Robert Hass: That's a wonderful sand castle. One of the things that's wonderful about it, Haylee, is that looking at it, you just imagine kids lovingly creating the sand castle on the beach. [ applause ] National finalist Brandon Mahajon, age 11, Elmira, New York. "Nighttime City." Brandon Mahajon: I just drew this because I thought of the polluted air in New York City, and so that's about it. [ applause ] Robert Hass: So, how did you find your way to these colors? One of the things that is really amazing about this is, like, the mix of the purple and the gray, and the mix of the reds and blues, and way they pick up on the color in the sky. Is that just messing around, in getting there? Brandon Mahajon: Yeah. What I did was that I drew in oil pastel, and I had painted over it with watercolor paint so it looks like the air was right between you and the building. Robert Hass: That's really a wonderful technique, and it just works beautifully. And it has kind of a dark movement, very alive in color. Pamela Michael: Congratulations. Robert Hass: Congratulations. Brandon Mahajon: Thanks. [ applause ] Robert Hass: This is completely adorable. It's Erin Tilley, Laguna Niguel, California. Age six. Are you here, Erin? Oh, here you are. Erin Tilley: I drew this because I just really like ducks, and that's about it. Robert Hass: Well, you can sure tell that you do. Pamela Michael: And Erin's sister Shannon was a finalist last year. Robert Hass: "Two Ducks in the Rain" is a good title. "I Just Really Like Ducks" would also be a wonderful title. This is just so endearing, Erin. Pamela Michael: Congratulations. Robert Hass: Congratulations. [ applause ] Here's another bird and another six-year-old; William Zeng from Los Altos, California. William, are you here? [ applause ] William Zeng: I drew this picture because I like birds and ducks, also, but once I met a little bird and I catched it, but then it got hurt and I think it died or something, Robert Hass: That's wonderful. [ applause ] One of the things we want to do fairly soon is a large book of the children's birds. Now, when we began this program, thinking mainly about schools and environmental education stewardship, supporting the creative work of teachers around the country, we didn't realize that we were going to develop this amazing archive of the kid's vision of the world. And we have so many wonderful bird and animal drawings at this point. So, now we come -- Pamela Michael Wait, wait, wait. There is -- can I take over? Robert Hass: Sure. Pamela Michael: There's another art finalist here who is from the DC area, and I'm so sorry that Aviva, your name is not in the program, and we don't have your art here. We do have a print of it. It's totally my fault. We talked to your mom, and I knew you were coming, and it just didn't make it into the mix of things. So we're going to reprint this program and send you a copy with your name in it so you'll have that, okay? [ applause ] And this was one of our favorite pieces. I'm just so sorry we don't have it on the big screen, but Bob will show it to everybody. Come on up, Aviva Ramirez. [ applause ] Pamela Michael: Do you want to tell us about your sea horse? Aviva Ramirez: When I was making this at home I was thinking about the one that I had made at school, and I was thinking about the whales that I was learning about when I was learning about the ocean, and that's why I put the whale's tail inside. Aviva Ramirez: Very nice. Thank you so much. [ applause ] Robert Hass: I was learning about -- what a great praise, you know. In every classroom in the country, "I was learning about whales, and that's why I put the whale's tail inside." It's really wonderful. Aviva, thank you so much for that image. Pamela Michael: Let's give Aviva another round of applause. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Such sweetness, yeah. There are actually several rivers that belong to the watershed of Washington, DC. The commentators always talk about the city by the Potomac; it's actually the city between the Potomac and the Anacostia River. And the protection of the Anacostia River for these last years, and the revival of the Anacostia River was in the hands of citizen volunteers who decided, as they have on almost every river and every watershed in this country -- local citizens gone to work on protection of the river, day lighting of the creeks, water testing and monitoring; the people in Louisiana who have gone out into the Gulf to measure the size of the dead zones, to understand what's happening in the Mississippi, and the farming. And the hero of the Anacostia River is a man named Robert Boone, who founded the organization out of love of the river some years ago. He's one of my personal heroes; please welcome him up here. [ applause ] Pamela Michael: Robert Boone and the Anacostia Watershed Society have been partnered with River of Words since our very beginning. They use our Watershed Explorer curriculum in local schools, and the Anacostia Watershed Society also has a local contest. They make a poster and a T-shirt, and we have their top two winners from their local contest here to be honored today. Their names are Risa Olivia Aikens Cummings [ spelled phonetically ] , who is a poet. Do you want to come up, Risa? Are you here? Great. [ applause ] Tell us where you go to school and everything. Risa Olivia Aikens Cummings: Hello, everyone. My name is Risa Olivia Aikens Cummings. I am a senior at Archbishop Curley High School. I don't have my poem with me, but the poem I wrote was inspired from the river, of course, to write it, because the river does run through me, and it's a big part of the community, so I wanted to write a poem that would inspire more people to go around and realize how nice our river is, and then go there and enjoy it. And I would like to thank [ inaudible ] Arts Collaborative for telling me about the program, and helping me to get into the contest. Thank you. [ applause ] Pamela Michael: And Olivia, I just want to say, we haven't forgotten you, our Anacostia prize winner for River of Words. We will be bringing you up in a minute. And then the art prize winners for the Anacostia Watershed Society contest this year are a group of students who are part of the Life Pieces to Masterpieces program. And we have two of their art mentors. They didn't want to take the kids out of school to come to the ceremony today, so two of the youth mentors who have gone through the program are here today to accept the award in their honor, and they can maybe tell us a little bit about a local organization, Life Pieces to Masterpieces. They're here today; Cinica [ spelled phonetically ] Wells and Maurice Key, or [ inaudible ] . Robert Hass: I'd like to say a word about the Life Pieces to Masterpieces program. This is one of those excellent after school programs in a very challenged neighborhood. And these are heroes who are challenging the degradation, the bad, the destructive habits and the darkness in their communities. They are bringing up the life, and Life Pieces to Masterpieces was featured in our Earth Day event this year. We had 2,800 volunteers this year. And for reference, 18 years ago we had 12 people who volunteered. So we are very excited about this model, the Life Pieces to Masterpieces. The name in itself says so much. And these folks are really making a difference in this part of our community and part of our watershed. [ applause ] Male Speaker: Hello, everyone. My name is Maurice [ inaudible ] , and I'm a founding senior apprentice and art mentor for Life Pieces to Masterpieces. Earlier she told you that we didn't want to take the boys out of school, but I'm proud to stand here before you and accept this award on behalf of 35 young men who made art based on their life experiences. Life Pieces to Masterpieces is a nonprofit arts organization, so what we do is we make art based on our life experiences. So whatever goes on, whether it's good, bad, happy or sad, we make life experiences based on that. Recently we have been in conjunction with the Anacostia Watershed Society, and we have been learning more about the Anacostia River. So because of that, we have created this painting. Thank you. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Robert Boone was working in Washington; that's how he got started on this. He was working, and for something different to do, he would get out and started canoeing on the Anacostia River. This is about 10 years ago or longer, and he saw what condition it was in, and he started working on it. And he pretty soon formed this organization and got other people involved, and the quality of the river is improving. And it's an instance of what one person can do. He also happens to be related to Daniel Boone, so if any of you want to shake hands with someone who not only is helping to repair the Anacostia River but comes from an old American pioneer family, you can shake his hand later, and maybe he'll ask you to sign one of your books of poems. The Anacostia Watershed prize goes to Olivia Coleman, who is 12 years old, from Bowie, Maryland. [ applause ] [ low audio ] Pamela Michael: There it is. [ applause ] Olivia Coleman: I drew this picture because sometimes when we go to field trips, we go to the Anacostia Watershed. And I see this bridge, and I love the landscape. [ applause ] Robert Hass: It's so strong, what you do with this. The painter who looked at this just said, "Wow," and it's because of those strong lines. Not only do you get the architecture of the bridge powerfully in the sense of movement, but the muddy look of the river and the river water. It's just very strong work. So thank you, Olivia, so much, and congratulations. Pamela Michael: Thank you. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Okay. So you kids -- I know this is a long time. We're going to now look at the grand prize winners, and then we're going to introduce the teacher of the year, and we'll be through. Our grand prize winner in Category 1, "Mountain Lion on Mt. Madonna" is Jakob Langholz, eight years old from Royal Oaks, California. [ applause ] Pamela Michael: Do you want to say anything about it? Jakob Langholz: Not really. Robert Hass: What gave you the idea? Is this a mountain lion? Jakob Langholz: Yeah. Robert Hass: Yeah. Did you ever see one in the watershed? Jakob Langholz: No, but there are lots of them there. Robert Hass: Yeah. Thank you. It's such an alive animal. We were just thrilled by this. Jakob Langholz: Thanks. Pamela Michael: And Jakob got his ribbon and certificate at our ceremony in San Francisco, so we just have a little thing for you today, Jakob. Jakob Langholz: Thank you. Pamela Michael: Congratulations. [ applause ] Robert Hass: Jakob, I have been hiking in our part of the world for most of my adult life, and I have seen mountain lions four times. If you're out often enough, you will eventually see one. Around the watershed, bobcats -- I think you're more apt to see them if you're lucky, and if you stand still at dusk somewhere near where there are quail or rabbits. Anyway, this is quite alive and wonderful. And speaking of animals and alive and wonderful, our grand prize winner in Category 2, "Pondering the Pond," is David Kwok from Westmont, Illinois. Robert Hass: Thank you. Congratulations, David. Do you want to say a word about it? So, what set you going on raccoons? David Kwok Hardly anything. Robert Hass: Huh? David Kwok: Hardly anything. Robert Hass: Hardly anything? One of the things that the artists loved about this was all the different activities of them. Is that pencil work? David Kwok: No, charcoal. Robert Hass: Charcoal. And what's your teacher's name? Pamela Michael: She's here. Robert Hass: She's here. Pamela Michael: Want to stand up? Robert Hass: There are you are. Okay. [ applause ] Congratulations. Let's put this on you -- this beautiful material of your suit we will pierce for a second. Pamela Michael: Just to show you some of the things the kids are getting -- the artists are getting a little bit different things from the poets, but the Library of America has donated to the older kids the collected writings of John Muir. And one of our former guard members, who is a publisher, gave the kids John Muir's famous dog story, "Stickeen." And we have some art supplies -- Skipping Stones magazine, which is a wonderful magazine of all work by children from around the world, has donated issues. Some friends of ours who have the [ inaudible ] books, which are tree free journals, have donated some sketchbooks, so there's some goodies in every bag. We thank all of our contributors. Thank you. Robert Hass: So thank you, David. Thanks to everyone. [ applause ] Look at this, "Summer Showers," Loren Kim, age 15, Fairfax Station, Virginia. Loren. Pamela Michael: Oh, you skipped Edward. Robert Hass: Oh, wait. Pamela Michael: Go back one. Robert Hass: Oh, sorry. "Family Time at Crystal Lake." Edward Yang, age 14, Westmont, Illinois. [ applause ] Edward Yang: I'm sorry to disappoint you; this is just a figment of my imagination. But I'm sure you go to the local pool, it'd be just as good. Well, I don't know. I just -- when I was drawing this I was thinking about the Chicago Bulls. Pamela Michael: And your teacher is also [ inaudible ] . [ applause ] Robert Hass: Have you always done a lot of drawing? Edward Yang: Yeah, [ inaudible ] . Pamela Michael: And David's older brother John's drawing is a grand prize winner, but his drawing of the duckling is out in the hallway. You can look at that. Edward Yang: Thank you. Robert Hass: Take a look. One of the things that Thacher Hurd said -- Pamela Michael: I'm sorry. Forget what I just said, sorry. Robert Hass: -- Edward, about this, looking at it -- he spent part of his time in the summers in Wyoming when he was a kid, and he looked at this and said you can feel the heat. If you come from a western landscape and see this look of a bowl and water, it feels like you can -- this gives -- it's very hard for a painting to convey what it's like on a hot day in the mid afternoon, or at high noon at the western landscape. Yes. Pamela Michael: I just want to clarify. It was David Kwok's brother John, not Edward's brother. The smaller boy -- there he is -- his brother, whose painting is out in the lobby. They're all from Westmont, and they all have the same art teacher. So, sorry. Robert Hass: Which is a demonstration of something else; the power of gifted teachers. And we'll come to that in a moment. But here is "Summer Showers," Loren Kim, age 15, Fairfax Station, grand prize winner in Category 4. [ applause ] Loren Kim: Well, I guess I saw water as a symbol for life, and like, as cheesy as it sounds, I guess children are the most valued and influential form of life. Robert Hass: It's gorgeous work. How did you get that feel of -- it's white on black, but how did you get that feel of summer rain? Loren Kim: I guess -- I don't know. I just covered it with washed white paint, because the contrast with the black, I guess, was just -- I liked it. Robert Hass: It's wonderful. It's just terrific work. Pamela Michael: Is your teacher here? Loren Kim: No. Pamela Michael: I just want to say that Thacher Hurd, the judge, said that for artists, rain is one of the most difficult things to depict, and you did a wonderful job. What I love about this painting, and what a lot of people have commented about, is the kinesthetics; the way the girl is standing huddled up. The body language is so precise and right on. It's just really terrific. Congratulations. [ applause ] Robert Hass: So there they are. Pamela Michael: And all of the winners and finalists are on our Web site, riverofwords.org, so there are 100 finalists and about 50 poets and 50 artists. We invite you to go to the Web site and see it all. Robert Hass: So painters, stand up. [ applause ] Pamela Michael: And now we come to the last segment of today's program, and that is our teacher of the year. River of Words works because of teachers around the world and around the country, especially -- about 95 percent of our participation is the US. We're in about 15 countries, but we don't really have the money or staff or time to do much outreach or support internationally. People find us on the Internet, or in other ways. So, most of our work is here in the US. And I do teacher training programs, and Bob sometimes gets a chance to go into classrooms, too, and meet remarkable, remarkable men and women who have devoted their lives to young people and to teaching. It's not an easy job. Increasingly it's not an easy job. And in our society, as in some others, it's also undervalued, I think. So it took us a couple of years to figure it out, but maybe two or three years into the program we added a teacher of the year category to our honorees. And it's kind of mysterious. That's there nomination process, there's no -- people call us, and we get wonderful packages from principals and from colleagues letting us know about the work of good teachers, but you know what, the work of good teachers is visible in the work of their students. We see it. And for years and years and years River of Words has had many, many, many grand prize winners and finalists from the Watsonville, California area, and a lot of it is the result of the work of a remarkable woman who I met about eight years ago at a workshop at the Santa Cruz museum. She was a parent volunteer. This is another model. There are classroom teachers, and then there are volunteers and youth leaders, and 4-H and Girl Scout troop leaders, and many people who, out of the goodness of their hearts and their desire to improve their community or their own child's educational experience make it their business to go into the schools to enrich the students' lives. Linda Cover is an incredibly gifted person. She has single handedly put together programs that reach out to -- how many schools do you work in, Linda? Half a dozen schools in the Watsonville community. And that is a community that has a lot of migrant workers. There are a lot of English language learners in that community, a lot of children whose families are working in the fields. And I'm telling you, the kids in Watsonville -- you can't get out of school in Watsonville without knowing the name of every bird and plant and animal in your community because of the work of Linda Cover, which is now an official part of the work of many schools in her area. So we want to honor her for the second time. We did this in San Francisco -- and let her talk to you a little bit about her work, and give her all of our thanks and love for the work that you do. [ applause ] Pamela Michael: She got her ribbon in San Francisco, too. Linda Cover: Well, this is so wonderful, seeing everybody here. This is such a magic place and magic moment for our children. I want to thank everyone at River of Words. It has made such a big difference in my children's lives, and all my students and my children; I also have a child. But I can't tell you what something like this means in the whole life of children. And you'll find getting an award like this does make a difference in your child's life. It's priceless. It really is. I want to say this. The River of Words vehicle has been like a fine and shiny limousine for my Watsonville children. It's been a great ride for lots of students, but it's actually been life changing for many more. Through the River of Words efforts we have been encouraged to value our own home. You have given our students their very voices, and now they are able to sing. They sing loudly and sweetly and harmoniously, sometimes angrily. Their songs echo in our libraries, government buildings, cafes, county fairs, on local TV, in the halls and walls throughout our community. Our students have become the Lorax of our town. They speak for the rivers, the wetlands and the forests of our watershed. Some of our original Watershed Explorers are now in college, with a heightened appreciation of our environmental ideas and goals. These artists and poets are now becoming world travelers, community activists, environmental educators, scientists and the leaders of tomorrow. Speaking of the leaders of tomorrow, I want to speak to our leaders of tomorrow, our leaders of today right here in this room. You are our eco warriors. You are warriors for our planet. These are some of the things I'd like to pass on to you that I learned, that I'd like you to know. And I can tell through your work you already know these things; I'm just repeating what you already know. You have to know about your neighborhood. You have to know the people, the dogs, the cats, the butterflies, the caterpillars, the rolly pollies, the sour grass patches and the climbing trees because these are your friends and your teachers. As well as you know brand names like Gameboy and iPod and Coke and Starbucks, you must also know your friends, the plants and creatures in your neighborhood by name. Monarch butterflies, mallard ducks, snowy egrets, sour grass, dandelions, oak trees and the name of the lake in your park. And so here's your assignment. These are the things that you have got to do, and I can see you're already doing it. You have got to go to the water, the beaches, the lakes, the creeks; you have got to splash in the puddles in the rain, you have got to play in the mud, do cartwheels on the grass and climb lots of trees. You have to learn from these, because these are your true teachers. Keep on writing poetry. Keep on drawing and making music. You will make the world better one song at a time, one poem at a time, one fabulous drawing at a time. Thank you. [ applause ] Pamela Michael: Well, we made it to the end. Thank you all so much. I want to especially thank John Cole, Ann Boni, Pat White, Margeen [ spelled phonetically ] -- oh, I see we have a board member here, too. This is Carl Cole, our Washington, DC board member over there. [ applause ] I want to thank the staff of the Center for the Book for making this possible for us every year. This relationship started when Bob was poet laureate from 1995 to 1997. And through the efforts of John Cole and the Center for the Book we have had a home here at the Library ever since, and I think it's a really important anchor and a way to bring children together from all over the country, to share our stories and our life experiences with each other.