Kurdish Poetry: Choman Hardi Introduction Begin by asking students: What can we learn from poetry? Introduce Choman Hardi—(for more info, see her website: http://www.chomanhardi.com) o She is a poet, academic, and writer o Born in Kurdish Iraq—raised in Iraq and Iran o In 1993 she moved to the UK where she studied o She has published three volumes of poetry in Kurdish and one in English o In 2012, The British education system included four of Hardi’s poems in the national curriculum (http://www.kurdmedia.com/article.aspx?id=16280) This lesson includes the following four poems: o The Penelopes of my homeland o My mother’s kitchen o At the Border, 1979 o Invasion Poem 1: Invasion Introduction Ask the class: “What feelings and ideas does the word “invasion” prompt?” Take 3 minutes to write it down. Discuss as a group Show on the board: Invasion: o The act of invading, especially the entrance of an armed force into a territory to conquer o A large-scale onset of something injurious or harmful, such as a disease o An intrusion or encroachment Reading the poem Read the poem Invasion aloud. Ask students for their general feedback—what is this poem about? Ask students to put it in context of what they know about Kurdish history. Use the questions on the worksheet to guide a discussion about the poem Poem 2: At the Border, 1979 Introduction Provide a bit of relevant background about Choman’s life:

Choman Hardi was born in Iraq Kurdistan in 1974, but her family fled to Iran while she was still a baby. When she was 5 years old, Saddam Hussein became president of the Iraqi Republic and she returned with her family to the country of her birth Ask--What do you think it was like for a five year old to be crossing the border from Iran to return to her homeland? Reading the poem Have students read the poem to themselves. Ask: What do you think of the poem? Read the poem aloud: This poem is a short story—what happens in the story? What feelings does it evoke? What is the author feeling? What are the people around her feeling? How do you know? Use the questions below to guide a discussion Poem 3: My Mother’s Kitchen Use the questions below to guide a conversation about the poem Poem 4: The Penelopes of my Homeland

Invasion Soon they will come. First we will hear the sound of their boots approaching at dawn then they’ll appear through the mist. In their death-bringing uniforms they will march towards our homes their guns and tanks pointing forward. They will be confronted by young men with rusty guns and boiling blood. These are our young men who took their short-lived freedom for granted. We will lose this war, and blood will cover our roads, mix with our drinking water, it will creep into our dreams. Keep your head down and stay in doors – we’ve lost this war before it has begun

Invasion Questions to Consider Write your answers on a separate sheet of paper. Before reading the poem: •

What feelings and ideas does the word “invasion” prompt?

After reading the poem: • • •

What do you think of the poem? What images and feelings does the poem elicit? How? What is the tone of the poem? Provide examples

Stanza 1: • • •

Who are “we” and “they”? What images are created by “dawn” and “mist”? What are alternative images of “dawn” and “mist”?

Stanza 2: • •

Identify the military words. What effect do they create? Why aren’t the soldiers described in more detail? Why are only boots and uniforms mentioned?

Stanza 3: • •

What does ‘rusty guns and boiling blood” suggest about “us” in the poem? How is this contrasted with “their guns and tanks pointing forward” in the previous stanza?

Stanza 4: • • •

Is this an optimistic or pessimistic vision of their future? Why is the poet like this? What is the effect of using “will”? What is the effect of the repetition of “will” and “our”?

Stanza 5 • • •

What is the purpose of the imperative in the first line? What is the effect of the dash? How does the statement at the end of the poem contribute to the overall mood of the poem?

At the Border, 1979 ‘It is your last check-in point in this country!’ We grabbed a drink – soon everything would taste different. The land under our feet continued divided by a thick iron chain. My sister put her leg across it. ‘Look over here,’ she said to us, ‘my right leg is in this country and my left leg is in the other.’ The border guards told her off. My mother informed me: We are going home. She said that the roads are much cleaner the landscape is more beautiful and people are much kinder. Dozens of families waited in the rain. ‘I can inhale home,’ somebody said. Now our mothers were crying. I was five years old standing by the check-in point comparing both sides of the border. The autumn soil continued on the other side with the same colour, the same texture. It rained on both sides of the chain. We waited while our papers were checked, our faces thoroughly inspected. Then the chain was removed to let us through. A man bent down and kissed his muddy homeland. The same chain of mountains encompasses all of us.

At the Border Questions to Consider Write your answers on a separate sheet of paper. Use examples from the text to support your answers Before reading the poem: What do you think it is like for a young child to cross the border from Iran and return to her homeland? After reading the poem: 1.

This poem is a short story. What happens in the story? What feelings does it evoke? What is the author feeling? What are the people around her feeling?

2. Who are the characters in this poem? 3. What are the guards like? How are they described? What is the tone with which they speak? 4.

What are the children like? How are they described? What is the tone with which they speak?

5. What are the adults like? How are they described? What is the tone with which they speak? 6. From what her mother tells her, what does Choman expect in Iraq? What does she actually find? 7. How many times does the word ‘chain’ appear? Where? What does the word chain mean? Why is it used so many times 8. What is the meaning of the last line: The same chain of mountains encompasses all of us?

My mother’s kitchen I will inherit my mother’s kitchen. Her glasses, some tall and lean, others short and fat, her plates, an ugly collection from various sets, cups bought in a rush on different occasions, 5 rusty pots she can’t bear throwing away. ‘Don’t buy anything just yet,’ she says, ‘soon all of this will be yours.’ My mother is planning another escape, for the first time home is her destination, the rebuilt house which she will furnish. At 69 she is excited about starting from scratch. It is her ninth time. She never talks about her lost furniture when she kept leaving her homes behind. She never feels regret for things, only for her vine in the front garden which spread over the trellis on the porch. She used to sing for the grapes to ripen sew cotton bags to protect them from the bees. I know I will never inherit my mother’s trees.

My mother’s kitchen Questions to Consider Write your answers on a separate sheet of paper. Use examples from the text to support your answers Before reading the poem: What have your parents passed on to you (physical objects, values, ideas, etc.)?

Stanza 1 1.

How does Hardi describe her mother’s kitchen? What do you think it looks like?

Stanza 2 2. Hardi says “My mother is planning another escape,/for the first time home is her destination.” What does that mean? Stanza 3 3. What is the significance of the vine?

4. Why will Hardi never inherit her mother’s vine? How do you think she feels about that?

The Penelopes of my homeland (for the 50,000 widows of Anfal) Years and years of silent labour the Penelopes of my homeland wove their own and their children’s shrouds without a sign of Odysseus returning. Years and years of widowhood they lived without realising, without ever thinking that their dream was dead the day it was dreamt, that their colourful future was all in the past, that they had lived their destinies and there was nothing else to live through. Years and years of avoiding despair, not giving up, holding on to hopes raised by palm-readers, holding on to the wishful dreams of the nights and to the just God who does not allow such nightmares to continue. Years and years of raising more Penelopes and Odysseuses the waiting mothers of my homeland grew old and older without ever knowing that they were waiting, without ever knowing that they should stop waiting. Years and years of youth that was there and went unnoticed of passionate love that wasn’t made of no knocking on the door after midnight returning from a very long journey. The Penelopes of my homeland died slowly carrying their dreams to their graves, leaving more Penelopes to take their place.