OVERVIEW

A group of young Toothill writers, who call themselves 'The Toothillians', came together to write a long poem with poet Hilda Sheehan about their community. The words in these pages are a collage of their poetic lines as well as words from the Toothill Lunch Club and the archives of local publication, The Link Magazine. The Watchers is The Toothill Long Poem written by Megan and Tamsin of Toothill Primary School, Kieran, Alisha, Tyler, Jake, Luke, Annabel of Lydiard Park Academy, Kiera and Morgan of Oliver Tomkins Primary School, Ella, Emma, and Alicia of Westlea Primary School in collaboration with the Toothill Lunch Club and local poet Hilda Sheehan. You can buy a copy HERE

Poems & Dreams: the writing of the Toothill Long Poem

TOOTHILL: A WORLD OF IMAGINATION


From looking through the notebooks of my group of Toothill young writers, I could see that they are deep thinkers, imaginative and proud of where they live. 'Dreams / Poems' is stated on the front of Kiera's book, a good place to start, a good place to make poetry.  We were all inspired, dreamlike, by the hedgerows, the spectacular view from Toothill, the wildlife as well as what 'The Watchers' means to us, Toothill as 'Lookout' and the wonderful 'Toothill Sunrise' as a 'stained glass story'.



The students enjoyed talking to older people, giving Toothill a sense of history and community, a voice of strength and a place of dignity. Their stories float in and out of the long poem, they are both amazing and tantalizing. I was glad to make a place for them in a historical recording of voice, insight and imagination by young people of Toothill. 'It has made me want to go and visit Toothill' said Kevin of Writers' Cafe, Lower Shaw Farm, after hearing the first draft on Thursday evening. 

Some striking imagery can be read and will be heard from the pages the students wrote in their journals:

TOOTHILL IS COOL! HAVE FUN IN TOOTHILL!


THE TRAIL OF MY LIFE BEFORE...A WORLD OF IMAGINATION


A GARDEN FENCE AND A LITTLE RED DOOR...


CARS DRIVING ROUND ON THE ROAD...BABIES CRY AND PARENTS MOAN!
MUSIC IS PLAYED FULL BLAST...



The poem is collage of these pieces, brought together with words from Toothill elders, link Magazine and myself. I had reflections too, as an honoured visitor of Toothill who had the pleasure of walking around this remarkable community with 14 young students, to visit the lunch club and record stories...to look from the very top of Swindon and to be able to say, 'wow, I really like it here.'

So come and hear the students read their words on Saturday 12th May. Details here on the Swindon Festival of Literature Website:

http://www.swindonfestivalofliterature.co.uk/12-sat.html#sat12-toothill

Come and hear the tales of ghosts at Mud Hills...


What happens when it snows in Toothill...excitement filling the air!


and as the turquoise sky turns black from blue...


and meet Alicia's Mistaken pathway..



Hilda is cool
Hilda can Rhyme
Hilda, I don’t know,
Do you like lime?

The Watchers of the Farm

Friday 24th February: a day of writing (and many other wonderful things) at Lower Shaw Farm with Hilda Sheehan and Michael Scott. Appearances from Roger Ogle and BBC Wiltshire.

We have walked the lanes of Toothill, we have visted the 'sites': Toothill Community Centre with its grand stained glass window, Toothill church and we have met with people that have lived in Toothill a long time at the lunch club. We have gathered stories, sent postcards from Toothill, read poems, played word games and thought a lot about how this long poem of ours might sound. It seemed that a day of writing at Lower Shaw Farm might help us bring all this together.

It was very exciting: we were the Watchers from Toothill!

Jake was tightrope walking between the trees, we watched in awe:

We watched...



we watched the pigs...

we watched (and petted) the sheep...

and we enjoyed playing at lunchtime...



Back at the centre was an exhibition of photographs from past Link Magazines and many old editions to look through for ideas and historic background.

A typewriter in honor of Olive King (lay-worker), who would visit residents in the early days of Toothill estate and type up their concerns on a typewriter in the back of her car. I was wondering if we could type up our wishes and concerns here, inspied by cut outs of road names and places in Toothill.

We googled all the street names to see what they might reveal: underneath the concrete, there's something exciting.

The session started with a discussion of poetic structure: could we write a Toothill version of the Wasteland by T.S Eliot? What would our five sub-headings be?

The Lookout

Pathways (this became 'mistaken pathways' in Michael's workshop) Where do the paths take us? Can we animate the path?

The Hut (shed) (the site of the first Toothill shop and gathering space)

The Watchers (the statue at the community centre) Symbolic of family, home, care, community, aspiration and hope.

Olive (representative of people that make a difference)

and also: Sunrise (Toothill Sunrise is the name of the stained glass window at Toothill Community centre)

We split into two groups and started to look at the headings above. We wrote some poetry inspired by by Chrissie Gittins 'Listening Station':

The Listening Station

It hears the wind that rushes through the trees
saying something of the sea,
It hears a moth leaving the ceiling,
It hears the thin pages of a book close,
It hears a late key turn in the door.
It hears an egg flop into a mixing bowl,
It hears the crack of a bended knee,
It hears a wash leather squeak down a window pane,
It hears an apple eaten to its rotten core.
It hears a pencil dragged across tissue paper,
It hears a pea stick snapped in half'
It hears a mouth leave another mouth,
It hears a lion (or is it a child?) roar.

Chrissie Gittins


I asked the group to think about our Look Out what tiny things might it see?

'It sees the world cuddling around us
it sees the warmth of everybody standing close
it tastes the fresh air of the world
I am Toothill!' Wrote Tyler.


Michael worked with his group on Pathways:

Our Toothill today
On the top floor
Our Dog Sphinx protecting
Watchers looker’s
The future 
With no face

We thought about our families and neighbours in Toothill and the sculpture of the Watchers.


Greenfields and trees: a view hidden by silver birches

Today we visited Toothill Good Companions Club with Roger Ogle. Thirteen students sat and chatted easily with the lovely people that meet up for lunch every Friday. They were pleased to see us, share tales of Toothill, their memories, dreams, opinions.

'I'd move to a bungalow, if I won the lottery,' said John, 'but right now, I'm happy: one wife, one car, one house...it's all I need.



'Norma and I fell in love in Toothill. But we met at the Solo Club in the Manchester Road - it works you know! We both have good families and we are happy...there's lots of wildlife to watch, foxes and hedgehogs come out at night. There was a view of the railway when I first moved here but now it is hidden by silver birches. I was a lorry driver delivering coal mainly to Pinehurst. We had gas in Toothill, no need for coal. But Danny the woodcutter would come, with truck and his old grinder. It was all about connections. He'd know who'd had wood delivered.' ( Danny the Woodcutter was the grandfather of Miss Thamesdown, 1978!)

The journals of the students were filling up, everyone was engaged in chat and laughter. There was mutual enjoyment on this lovely social occasion. 'There's a buzz going - the seniors enjoyed meeting up ... I'm sure lots of lines will emerge about daffodils springing, sharing church buildings, the stained glass window and cows as neighbours.' Roger Ogle.




13 year old Alicia of Greendown School with 96 year old Jean Carey who was one of the first residents of Toothill in 1977 and one of the founders of the Good Companions Club. Thank you Toothill Good Companions Club, for being so friendly and welcoming to the students of Greendown, Toothill, Westlea and Oliver Tomkins!



Afterwards we had a good look at the 'Toothill Sunrise', a stained glass window of Toothill Community Centre. Take a look...what can you see?





We all gathered around 'The Watchers' statue. This was my first sighting of the sculpture by Carlton  Attwood.





Toothill church then recieved a surprise visit from 17 very curious people. We had a warm welcome from David who explained that the church started as a builders hut (the same hut Jean Carey told us she'd take cups of tea up to...when the paths were made of mud and only two or three houses were built). This church was a loved space ... cared for and warm. It was full of story and the sharing of faith, understanding and community above all else: we heard of Olive who would visit people to type out their needs for them in the back of her car. I am thinking of a typewriter for our final day of writing ... we can tap out some wishes, thoughts, ideas too in the spirit of Olive.






I've asked the students to look through the stories they have collected and to think about ways they can make them into poetry over the next few weeks.Many phrases are coming to mind: The Watchers, Toothill Sunrise, The Look Out, Mud Hills, The Mound,  ... all good companions for a rich poem to come.









man, woman, child, dog made of stone

The postcards from TOOTHILL are arriving and are surprising, amazing, wonderful!

Keira said, 'The Watchers sculpture stands all alone, man, woman, child, dog made of stone. It's part of toothill's history, it's on display for all to see.'

What a gift of a poem this one is...thank you Keira!

Annabel's poem was full of fun and rhythm...'Toothill!' she cries...'My cool home!' This poem also has a clever form all of its own...it was a pleasure to read.

Alicia invites to 'join us at 'Toothill! Come and have an epic game of football!' She says we belong there, that others might want to join the Toothill family. What lovely sentiments she offers us in her poem.

Margan expresses that Toothill is 'cooler than you get taught.' That people play there, have values...lovely!

Jake's poem had a bit of Wordsworth in his lines, 'a tiny bird wandered lonely...and his stray trolly chatted to an empty bag of crisps....

I've enjoyed all the poems so far...please read them in full HERE

The Hill Stands Strong and Brave

2nd Session: Toothill School Long Poem workshop

This week we used some surrealist techniques for creating lines about Toothill. After reading,  A Martian Sends a Postcard Home by Craig Raine, I asked the group to look through their journals for words that would inspire poetic lines for our long poem and to think about Toothill as if it was the first time they had visited it. They would be reporting back on what they found. We played an Exquisite Corpse, a method by which a collection of words or images is collectively assembled. Each collaborator adds to a composition in sequence (similar to the game consequences). The results were fantastic. Each student ended up with 8 lines to form a new poem about Toothill made up of lines from themselves and their group. 'The hill stands strong and brave,' and 'toadstalls and knomes in a pretty garden,' and 'seagulls flying above me, time to cover my head!'



The poems that came out of the compositions were remarkable but remain in the journals of  the group. I hope we can share some here later.

We were joined by Roger Ogle of the Link Magazine, a well known community friend. Roger was able to talk to us about The Watchers, a statue that stands at Toothill Community Centre. He asked the children why it might be called The Watchers.

It's a family watching over one another.

It represents the community taking care.

Like a nest of dolls, nest of people.

Like a family sheltered.

It could be a mother with her daughter.


I wondered if the statue had anything to do with the place name of Toothill, a place of watching, a lookout.

Luke said the statue reminded him of a Russian Doll.

a small version of the Toothill 'Watchers'
on display in Toothill School


We had a chat about the hill behind Toothill School: we call it 'Mud Hill' and play football there, or 'The Mound' or 'The Hills'.

We talked about the power of sound in a poem and how it can create music. The word TOOT has a musical presence that we can make use of and we brainstormed lots of words that sounded like TOOT to use in our long poem: cute, soot, loot, compute etc. We then read the Ning Nang Nong by Spike Milliagan so get a real sense of the power of sound and assonance.

I have given each student a post card with a stamp on it and my address and asked them to post me a poem from Toothill. There will be prizes and I am so excited to see what comes in the post this week! Each poem will be recorded on the blog.

I plan to deliver postcards to all year 6 students in each school this week. All they will need is a stamp, inspiration and great words of Toothill!