"lessons" by Jacqueline Woodson (2014) public
Author: Jacqueline Woodson
Jacqueline Woodson, "lessons" from Brown Girl Dreaming. Copyright © 2014 by Jacqueline Woodson. Used by permission of Nancy Paulsen Books, an imprint of Penguin Young Readers Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. Source: Brown Girl Dreaming (Nancy Paulsen Books, 2014)
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My mother says:
When Mama tried to teach me
to make collards and potato salad
I didn't want to learn.
She opens the box of pancake mix, adds milk
and eggs, stirs.
I watch
grateful for the food we have now—syrup waiting
in the cabinet, bananas to slice on top.
It's Saturday morning.
Five days a week, she leaves us
to work at an office back in Brownsville.
Saturday we have her to ourselves, all day long.
Me and Kay didn't want to be inside cooking.
She stirs the lumps from the batter, pours it
into the buttered, hissing pan.
Wanted to be with our friends
running wild through Greenville.
There was a man with a peach tree down the road.
One day Robert climbed over that fence, filled a bucket
with peaches.
Wouldn't share them with any of us but
told us where the peach tree was.
And that's where we
wanted to be
sneaking peaches from that man's tree, throwing
the rotten ones
at your uncles!
Mama wanted us to learn to cook.
Ask the boys, we said.
And Mama knew that wasn't fair
girls inside and the boys going off to steal peaches!
So she let all of us
stay outside until suppertime.
And by then, she says, putting our breakfast on the table,
it was too late.
Copyright Credit: Jacqueline Woodson, "lessons" from Brown Girl Dreaming. Copyright © 2014 by Jacqueline Woodson. Used by permission of Nancy Paulsen Books, an imprint of Penguin Young Readers Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC.
Source: Brown Girl Dreaming (Nancy Paulsen Books, 2014)
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It sounds like you’re really curious about whether the poet learned something from her mother, and you’re noticing the push and pull between learning traditional skills and wanting to do your own thing. That’s a great way to notice the relationship in the poem! Sometimes, writing a creative response can help you see the poem differently, and then you can come back to it with a writer’s eye, not just as a reader. Here are three different sparks to help you get started on your own writing inspired by the poem. You can write a story, a poem, a memory, or even draw or make a song! Try following one spark, and see what ideas come up—then return to the poem to see what new things you notice.
Think about a time when you didn’t want to learn something from someone, but their efforts stuck with you anyway. Write about how you felt in that moment, and what you remember most now. You might use this line:
I didn’t want to learn…
[something I avoided]
[someone who tried to teach me]
[a reason for resisting]
[a memory that returns]
[an unexpected lesson]
Try writing about a special weekend or day when you felt close to someone in your family, even if you were just doing something simple together. You can focus on what you did, what you talked about, or how it felt to be together. You might use this line:
On Saturdays we…
[a family tradition]
[a favorite food or activity]
[a place you always went]
[a feeling you remember]
[a story that was told]
Imagine a rule or tradition that someone expected you to follow, but you (or your character) wanted to do things differently. Write about what happened and how you felt about breaking away. You might use this line:
Instead of ____, I wanted to…
[a tradition or rule]
[a place you wanted to go]
[a person who inspired you]
[a new experience you tried]
[a feeling of freedom or guilt]
No matter which spark you choose, you can use the “lead line” anywhere in your writing—at the beginning, in the middle, or at the end—to help you get started or keep going. After you try a creative response, come back to the poem and see if you notice anything new about the relationship between the poet and her mother.
- Copy one of the sparks and lead lines
- Click Create in the top menu.
- Paste the spark and lead line in the text box. Give the document a Title, and click Enable AI features.
- Start composing your creative response to the poem.
- Click Upload.
- For more help completing your response, select Ask AI, select Kickstarter, tell that Writing Partner what you are working on and click Continue with AI at least two more times.
Would you like to see how I came up with these sparks and lead lines, and what I noticed about the poem? I can explain what I understood from the poem to give you more insight into my choices! Just let me know.
Absolutely, I’d love to show you how I created each of the sparks, lead lines, and sub-themes based on the poem and your thoughtful question about whether the poet learned something from her mother and the “push and pull” between tradition and wanting to follow your own path. Here’s how I built each spark, with lots of detail about what in the poem inspired the ideas and how your comments helped shape them.
SPARK 1: I didn’t want to learn…
This spark is inspired by the poem’s repeated focus on not wanting to learn traditional skills from a parent, and the complex feelings that linger after. The poem opens with the speaker’s mother reflecting, “When Mama tried to teach me / to make collards and potato salad / I didn’t want to learn.” This sets up a tension—there’s an offer of knowledge, but also resistance, and a sense that some lessons might stick anyway, even if we don’t realize it at the time. Your question about whether the poet learned from her mother made me think about how sometimes we resist lessons, only to remember them later or see their value as we grow.
Quoted lines:
to make collards and potato salad
I didn’t want to learn.
I built the sub-themes for this spark based on the different elements around that resistance:
- [something I avoided] — like learning to cook, but could be anything you didn’t want to learn
- [someone who tried to teach me] — a parent, teacher, coach, or anyone
- [a reason for resisting] — maybe wanting to be outside, or just not interested
- [a memory that returns] — the way old lessons or efforts come back to us
- [an unexpected lesson] — sometimes we end up learning something anyway
Your comment about push and pull is embedded here: there’s the resistance (“I didn’t want to learn”) and the fact that the memory and the lesson linger, even if they aren’t fully taken in at the time.
SPARK 2: On Saturdays we…
This spark is all about the feeling of having the whole day with someone special, which is described in the poem: “Saturday we have her to ourselves, all day long.” The poem contrasts the mother’s busy work week with the rare, cherished Saturdays she spends with her children. Your focus on relationships in the poem inspired me to suggest writing about those simple, special moments—because sometimes, it’s not the lesson itself, but just being together, that matters.
Quoted lines:
to work at an office back in Brownsville. Saturday we have her to ourselves, all day long.
The sub-themes here are built around the simple, shared rituals and feelings:
- [a family tradition] — maybe pancakes, or something else
- [a favorite food or activity] — what you did together
- [a place you always went] — could be literal or imaginative
- [a feeling you remember] — closeness, joy, or even boredom
- [a story that was told] — family stories, memories, or jokes
The “On Saturdays we…” lead line invites you to start with any memory or feeling about a special day, and your writing can grow from there.
SPARK 3: Instead of ____, I wanted to…
This spark draws on the poem’s depiction of wanting to break away from expectations or tradition—especially the idea that girls were expected to cook, while boys got to have adventures. The poem says, “Ask the boys, we said. And Mama knew that wasn’t fair / girls inside and the boys going off to steal peaches!” The speaker remembers wanting to be outside, running, sneaking peaches, “throwing the rotten ones at your uncles!” This is all about the desire to do things differently, and the feelings that come with breaking the rules (freedom, guilt, excitement).
Quoted lines:
Wanted to be with our friends
running wild through Greenville.
girls inside and the boys going off to steal peaches!
The sub-themes for this spark are:
- [a tradition or rule] — something you’re expected to do
- [a place you wanted to go] — that pull of someplace else
- [a person who inspired you] — a friend, a sibling, even a character from a story
- [a new experience you tried] — what you did differently
- [a feeling of freedom or guilt] — the mix of emotions when you break away
Your comment about “push and pull” is central here—the desire to do something new, and how that plays out in our memories.
Your question about learning, tradition, and wanting to do your own thing really shaped these sparks. I tried to make each one open enough for you to connect to your own memories or dreams, just like the poem does. If you have more thoughts or if you want to share what inspires you, I’d love to help you keep exploring!
Let me know if you want to talk more about any of the sparks, or if you’d like ideas for different directions you could take your writing!
First quick reactions
- One thing that jumps out is how the poem layers time: the mom in the present cooking, the mom as a girl refusing cooking lessons, and the speaker watching all of this.
- Another big move is how food becomes about gender, freedom, and work, not just pancakes vs. collards.
- There is also that subtle shift from Brownsville/office to Greenville/peaches that holds class and region in tension without naming it directly.
- Before I say more, what is pulling you the most: the food images, the gender story, the memory structure, or something else?
Want to see more thoughts and questions about this poem?
Let’s sit with this poem for a minute…
- What is really catching your attention the most right now:
the story, the voice, the family, or the food?
- I notice how the poem moves between two times: the mother in the present making pancakes and the mother in the past being that girl who did not want to learn to cook collards and potato salad. That back-and-forth gives the poem a kind of layered memory feeling. It is like breakfast is happening on top of all these old stories.
- Instead of me telling you what it “means,” I am curious:
When you read the last line, with the mother saying “it was too late,” what do you feel or think that “too late” is about?
You can revise your thoughts in the left pane or just add more comments here as they grow and change.
Want to dig into another part of the poem together?
First quick check-in 欄
- I see you’re spending time with a poem from a published book, so I’ll walk with you as a reader, not as a writer of this text.
- You mentioned you’re really into this poem right now, so I’ll lean into helping you go deeper with it, not rewriting or interpreting it for you.
- I’ve already prepared a fuller breakdown in the background; I’ll share it with you one short piece at a time so it stays easy to digest.
To start us off, I’m curious:
- What’s one moment or image in this poem that keeps replaying in your mind?
Want to see the next paragraph of background and prompts?
Zooming in on the “boys vs. girls” difference 戮
- Your line about the differences between the boys sneaking peaches and the girls being expected to stay in and cook goes right to the heart of one of the tensions in this poem.
- There’s a clash between expectations (girls inside learning to cook) and desire (wanting to run wild outside like the boys).
- The speaker’s mother is telling a story about her own childhood, where gender roles were really clear and strict, but also a little bit flexible in this memory.
- That moment when Mama “knew that wasn’t fair” and let everybody stay outside opens up questions about justice, freedom, and what gets passed down between generations.
- When you think about that difference—girls inside cooking, boys outside stealing peaches—do you see it as more playful, more unfair, or a mix of both?
Want to see more?
You are definitely noticing something rich there—the poem is doing a lot at once.
What is one “level” that stands out to you most right now: the food and cooking, the gender roles, the freedom of the kids outside, or the mother-daughter moment in the present?
You can revise your thinking in the left pane or by adding more comments. Do you want to hear more?
You are definitely catching something important in those “different levels.”
What’s one layer that hits you first: the food, the memory, the gender roles, the freedom of the kids, or something else?
Do you want to hear more?
Let’s start with how you’re reading this
- Noticing the “different levels” is already deep reader work: present-day kitchen, the mother’s memory, and the gender lessons under all of it.
- As you read, how are you feeling those layers: food, freedom, gender, class, migration (Brownsville / Greenville)?
- Which “level” hits you hardest right now—the pancakes in the now, the peaches in the past, or the regret in that last line?
Want to see more?
I’m right there with you—there’s a lot layered in that short piece.
Here’s a first focused thing to sit with:
Zooming in on a few key lines
-
Quoted line: “When Mama tried to teach me / to make collards and potato salad / I didn’t want to learn.”
Why it matters:
- Names specific Black Southern foods that carry history, memory, and care.
- Sets up the tension between what the mother wants to pass down and what the daughter resists.
- Signals that this is a story about missed chances and generational gaps, not just about cooking.
-
Quoted line: “I watch / grateful for the food we have now—syrup waiting / in the cabinet, bananas to slice on top.”
Why it matters:
- Hints that there were times when food security might not have been guaranteed.
- Shows a shift from homemade, labor-intensive food to easier, processed food (pancake mix).
- Layers in economic change, class, and maybe migration without saying it outright.
-
Quoted line: “And Mama knew that wasn’t fair / girls inside and the boys going off to steal peaches!”
Why it matters:
- Directly calls out gender expectations around who cooks and who gets to roam free.
- Shows the mother’s sense of justice and her refusal to trap the girls in a role.
- Complicates the stereotype of older generations always reinforcing traditional gender roles.
-
Quoted line: “So she let all of us / stay outside until suppertime.”
Why it matters:
- Shows the mother actively choosing freedom and play for the kids over training them in domestic labor.
- Hints that the later regret (“it was too late”) comes from this very choice.
- Holds a quiet tension between love, protection, and unintended loss of tradition.
-
Quoted line: “And by then, it was too late.”
Why it matters:
- Closes the poem on a note of regret and consequence in just a few words.
- Opens up questions: too late for what—learning, connection, culture, all of it?
- Makes the whole poem feel like a lesson wrapped inside a story, passed down again.
If any source link I mention later ever stops working, you can still find it by searching for the author, title, and book information I name.
Would you like to see more, especially some background that can deepen how you’re reading all those levels you’re picking up on?
on the uploaded document.
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