I'm writing this on my couch. My favorite tea cup sits next to me, shoes are off, and phone is far far away. This is my normal perch as a writer -- one that I know works, gets stuff bubbling in my brain. The tea is pretty important. I have a particular brand I like (PG Tips with a splash of milk), and I have special cups that only I use in the house (flowery mugs from Anthropologie).

If I were in my notebook, I'd be using this cool dotted one I found at Michael's, and these pens are my absolute faves. (If you borrow one from me, I will absolutely ask for it back.)

These are the things I need around me to write. 

Well, need is probably the wrong word. These are the things I LOVE to have around me when I write.  Sometimes I have to suck it up and write while waiting in the car, or in the doctor's office, or even during my son's guitar lessons.  All writers know how to capitalize on found moments.

But I know my preferred spot is at home, with this stuff.

Last week I wrote about classroom spaces, and I quoted Toni Morrison. Morrison talked often about the power of our writing spaces, asking herself this important question, "What do I need in order to release my imagination?" 

I know I've wrestled with this question as a writer. But I also think it's an important question to ask our students, too. 

It's not a common question in schools, however -- asking kids to think deliberately about their work places. I mean, most of the time kids are asked to just settle down and get to work. The system often seeks pure compliance. So when I've done lessons asking kids to consider their writing spaces and tools, I've found that sometimes I have to convince them a little bit -- get them warmed up to this line of thinking.

Lately I've been showing kids some pictures of famous artists' and writers' workspaces, to help make my case. This summer my son and I were fortunate enough to visit Casa Azul -- the house where Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera did so much beautiful and important work.

Look at their studio space. It's flippin' gorgeous, not to mention purposeful. 

The windows with the particular light. The organized tools. The easels that leave space for Frida's wheelchair. I've found kids are really inspired by what Frida and Diego made in their own home, and it starts us on a great conversation. I ask the students: "What do you need to have around you to do great work in this room? Think about it. What do you need?"

I did this lesson a month ago in a 5th grade dual language classroom, and the kids really ran with it. Look at this young writer's beautiful desk! I think Frida would absolutely approve. 

Sometimes when I talk to kids about their spaces and tools, I mention the rituals I've seen athletes use. Michael Phelps is a great example. He is so particular about his space and his tools before he swims in a meet. He has his hoodie up, ear buds in, and from what I can tell, he refuses to make eye contact with anyone. He just looks down, walks to his bench, sits there till it's time to move, looking down still. Once he's on the starting block, he shakes his arms, looks down, and waits for the gun. It's all very purposeful and super intense.  I'd love to know what songs he's got playing in his ear buds!

There's a really important belief system underneath these conversations with kids. When we ask kids to be purposeful and deliberate about their writing tools, their writing places and their writing habits, we are inviting them to take up a fierce writing identity. We are asking them to consider themselves as makers, as creators --just like Frida and Diego. Like Toni.

We are asking them to be picky about their work, about their lives in school. We are asking them to want more than a broken nubby pencil they found in the hallway a few minutes before. 

I think that's something to teach.