Interview with a Haiku Educator: Charlotte Digregorio talks to Philomene Kocher

As part of New to Haiku’s new Interviews with Haiku Educators series, Charlotte Digregorio shares her interview with Philomene Kocher. Thanks, Charlotte and Philomene!

Philomene Kocher lives in Hepworth, Ontario, in Canada, having returned to her hometown after almost 50 years. She served on the Haiku Canada executive for 12 years (1998-2010), and in 2004 judged the Betty Drevniok Award Contest. In 2014, her first collection of haiku, tanka, and haibun, Singing in the Silo, was published by catkin press, and many of the poems reflect her rural heritage. Her second book, still: new, selected & collaborative haiku, was published in 2022 by Ekstasis Editions, and includes septenga written with Marco Fraticelli, a haiku travelogue recorded on a trip to Egypt, and a selection of her haiku. Over the past four years, she has contributed seven interviews for publication in the Haiku Canada Review. Now retired, she has more time for haiku, photography, and walks along the beach.

1) When did you begin writing haiku, and what do you love about it?

I wrote my first haiku in 1991, so for 35 years it has been part of who I am. Right from the start, I fell in love with its accessibility: all I need is a scrap of paper, a pen, and a willingness to look around. I love how its simplicity can open to a bigger story. I’ve had the experience of writing a haiku, only to have something revealed to me about my life. The depth of resonance that is possible with just a few words still feels magical.

2) Getting people involved in the arts who have dementia appears to be of ever-increasing interest among people who work with the elderly. You fell into offering haiku many years back as an activity for people with dementia, living in nursing homes, at the request of a chaplain-friend. Did you, at first, have reservations about going into a nursing home and interacting with elders with dementia, not having a background in this field? If so, what specifically, were your concerns?

Yes, I had reservations. First, I had previously only led workshops for those who were showing up to learn about haiku. In the long-term care setting, they would be there for a different reason―because it was part of a spiritual care program. The focus would be on the persons with dementia, rather than on haiku itself. Second, I was unsure about how to interact with someone with dementia. Third, it was new for me to collaborate in a haiku event.

My chaplain-friend, Marjorie Woodbridge, invited me to share haiku because of what had happened in previous Soul Session gatherings. She developed this spiritual care program by following the lead of the persons with dementia. She had noticed that if she played music they might be familiar with, they often joined in and sang along. Then she took poetry to the group, again beginning with poems they might be familiar with (for example, “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes): they often joined in reciting the poem. She tried more contemporary poetry, and found it often sparked responses as well. Marjorie’s intention was to provide a ‘no-fail’ environment that would foster connection and a feeling of community. One of her comments is telling: “I guess you have to believe in their capacity to delight.”

Marjorie had worked as a chaplain in long-term care for 10 years, and she was familiar with the persons with dementia in her Soul Session program. I brought my 15 years as a poet and workshop facilitator. My trust in her allowed me to take a leap of faith to say “yes” to her invitation to share with this group.

I will add that my experience of sharing haiku with persons with dementia happened 20 years ago. My responses here are informed by my recollection of the events, as well as material written at that time.

3) Did you receive any training in working with elders from the nursing home staff prior to offering haiku sessions?

Yes, I attended a training session at the long-term care facility that was designed for staff and volunteers. I was also informed by several books that gave me a deeper understanding.

Tom Kitwood was one of the first to see beyond the diagnosis, and his person-centered approach was pioneering in the field of dementia care. His book, Dementia Reconsidered; the person comes first (1997), was updated in 2019 by one of his mentees, Dawn Brooker. She incorporated additional commentary by content experts in Dementia Reconsidered Revisited; the person still comes first. Kitwood noted that “the stories people [with dementia] tell about events in their past are often rich in metaphor related to their present situation (from page 73 of the first edition).”

A book I found very helpful, and which might inspire others interested in teaching poetry to elders, is by Kenneth Koch: I never told anybody: Teaching poetry writing in a nursing home (1977). There are ideas, techniques, and conversation starters, as well as a description of his process and how he modified his lessons over the course of 16 one-hour sessions. He was assisted by another poet (Kate Farrell) and a social worker, and sometimes by volunteers. He reflected that “they found memories that made them happy and unhappy, and they found a way to write poems about the present as well as the past (from the Note to Second Edition, 1997).”

I do not want to underplay the challenges that a poet may encounter in sharing poetry in a long-term care setting. The hospitality that a poet-facilitator brings is as important as their knowledge of poetry and teaching. Over the past two decades, I expect there have been developments that strengthen the support for arts-based programming in dementia care which provide clearer tips and guidelines.

4) About how many elders attended your sessions and how often did you meet? Did you bring objects with you to interest people and have them write about them? What were a few of the samples of haiku that you brought to introduce the form?

There were five haiku sessions held between October 2004 and February 2007 as part of the Soul Sessions program. There were 10-12 of the 44 residents living on the dementia care unit. Sometimes a family member would join as well.

You might wonder what a typical hour-long session was like: chaotic, fun, creative.

• We tried to coordinate all aspects around a theme, so that the haiku, music, and other sensory cues (like mittens, pinecones, and a teapot for the winter session) would all work together.
• There was music playing to welcome everyone. For the opening and closing ritual, we would hold hands while Marjorie lit a candle and said a prayer.
• The first half of the session was devoted to sharing haiku. If the person was able to, they would read it out loud, or else one of us might read it along with them. Then we would ask questions like “Does it remind you of anything?” or “Did that ever happen to you?” This was one of the most important things I learned: persons with dementia can often respond to conversation even when they cannot initiate it.
• As we talked about things, we wrote on a flipchart the words and phrases that seemed to be most moving, often because of their humour or poignancy. These words and phrases became the ‘building blocks’ we used to create haiku together in the second half of the session.
• We read the haiku just before the closing ritual of holding hands while Marjorie said a prayer. Music was played again as everyone left the group.

This example may give more insight into what happened. The following poem (used with permission) was read during a session about summer:

full summer moon
I walk in the tree’s shadow
picking strawberries

– Catherine Bayne

Some of the phrases we gathered from a group discussion of “full summer moon” included:

• strawberries are gone
• still taste them
• raiding my grandparents’ garden
• raiding my grandparents’ apple tree
• raiding the cookie jar
• raiding the neighbour’s garden
• first come, first served

The woman who spoke the following poem in its entirety (we just wrote it down from her storytelling) had been in the home for about 6 weeks, and during that time she had been crying out in distress. However, as she told this story, her head was back, her eyes were closed, and she was laughing.

raiding my grandparents’ garden
squishing the strawberries
as I run away

– Soul Session Poets

A few weeks later, this poem about running barefoot in the strawberry patch brought an immediate response. Marjorie shared the haiku with a resident (who had previously attended Soul Sessions) and the woman’s daughter who was with her. The resident was in her wheelchair and appeared to be sleeping, but when she heard the haiku, she put her head back and laughed out loud.

5) Did you approach presenting haiku to people with memory loss differently than you would to adults not experiencing it? If so, how did you hold their attention and what were some of your teaching methods?

My own workshops also had two parts: sharing and then writing:

• Share haiku by having attendees take turns reading a poem out loud. This teaches haiku by example. I choose haiku around a theme, and select ones that I find particularly resonant.
• Invite them to try writing their own haiku. I provide a suggestion (“first thing this morning, I . . .”) and ask them to write something for each of their senses (sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell, and insight). The final step is for them to choose two of their images / notes and put them together into a poem.

Marjorie and I were responsible for structuring the group by asking questions, and deciding when to move from reading haiku to collaboratively creating them. The flow was led by the persons with dementia―when their interest began to wane in a topic or they became restless, we moved on. We tried to have both structure and spontaneity.

6) What do people with dementia most respond to in haiku? The sensory aspects of it? Is it more difficult for them to appreciate haiku than it would be to appreciate music or say, painting a picture?

One of the first responses was “I don’t get it.” We hoped that the familiarity of the images in the haiku we had chosen as prompts would help make a connection to this unfamiliar form of poetry. Sometimes they would respond to the poem, but mostly the haiku were ‘jumping off places’ for reminiscence. After the haiku was read out loud, Marjorie and I might make comments about the poem as well as asking questions. There were general questions directed to the group, and at times specific questions directed to an individual.

It is challenging for me to say which part of the session was more helpful.

• We opened with music that they might know. For the theme of Love / Valentine’s Day, Marjorie brought songs by The Beatles (“She Loves You” and “All You Need is Love”) and Elvis Presley (“Love Me Tender” and “I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You”).
• We brought objects that could be touched (a vase with bright yellow chrysanthemums, two heart-shaped candy tins, and a bunch of valentines).
• The program was already established by the time of the haiku sessions, so there was a precedent for what they might expect. And it was held in the same room, so that may have provided cues as well.

Music and poetry are similar in some ways. They are often rehearsed and laid down with an emotional memory. From research it seems that emotional memory is stored is more places in the brain, and that may be why having an emotional prompt can evoke more memory. Or why hearing a song often makes you remember a feeling as well, or a specific event in the past. Marjorie shared this story. When listening to Guy Lombardo’s rendition of “Auld Lang Syne,” a woman was swaying and smiling to the music. Marjorie asked her where she was and she answered, “Dead centre on a dance floor in Detroit.”

7) What are some of the things that people with dementia find fun or rewarding about reading and writing haiku? Do they enjoy expressing their emotions or even challenges about memory loss?

It seems that capacities such as social interaction, emotional connection, and embodied awareness are often preserved despite cognitive limitations. I feel that the haiku sessions tapped into all of these.

The persons with dementia were familiar with the pattern of the session; and with hospitality and connection established, anything was possible. I remember when someone asked her, “What are we going to do today?” Marjorie replied, “We’re going to have fun, unless you’ve already had too much fun today.”

8) In a group, do people with dementia like sharing their poems and appreciate listening to what participants have written?

Haiku were only written collaboratively within the Soul Session gathering. At the end of the session, Marjorie or I would read the haiku and acknowledge the person who contributed all or part of the poem. In this way, their contributions were again validated and often led to more sharing.

9) Did you encourage people to write haiku outside of the sessions, and did any of them come with haiku they’d written on their own? Were some inspired to write as a daily activity?

The haiku we shared were prompts for connection, rather than examples for learning how to write haiku.

However, there were ripple effects from the sessions, including other staff sharing haiku with residents. As mentioned below, we published a chapbook, and colourful murals featuring some of the haiku were placed in the courtyard.

10) You produced an anthology of the participants’ haiku. Did many of them write about childhood experiences? Or, did many focus on “writing in the moment”? Did any write about their fears?

From the five haiku sessions, we selected 30 poems for a chapbook. The first printing of 1,000 copies was published with support from the local community foundation (2007), and a second printing of 700 copies was supported by the long-term care facility and the local branch of the Alzheimer Society (2008). The art that appeared on the cover was painted by one of the women in the group. These chapbooks were first shared with participants, their families, and other residents and staff in the long-term care facility. We also made them available at several presentations about Soul Sessions to educators, healthcare professionals, and community members. A copy of signs of spring: haiku poems by persons with dementia is available in the digital library of The Haiku Foundation.

Most of the haiku were written from stories in the past. These are all collaborative haiku by the Soul Session Poets.

going south
can’t get the cat
out of the car

sitting around the table
grandmothers
remembering grandmothers

flowers and chocolates
they mean someone cares
do you remember them?

skin off the apples
add sugar and cinnamon
eat warm with more sugar

first kiss:
kisses are all right
holding hands is better

thinking of the past
we do a lot of that
and more as we get older

11) Was senryu popular among persons with dementia, or easier for them to write?

If you read the poems in signs of spring, you will find haiku, senryu, and what I call ‘short poems in the haiku spirit.’ We made no distinction as our intention was focused on the persons with dementia, rather than on the poems.

12) In good weather, were you able to hold a session outside in a courtyard that the participants enjoyed?

The haiku sessions happened in the same meeting room as the Soul Session program, so there was a continuity of place.

There was an outdoor courtyard that was accessible to those who resided on the secure dementia care unit. Marjorie received a grant from the local community foundation for a visual art project. Large plywood panels featuring brightly painted pictures were created by developmentally challenged adults from a local art studio, trained community artists as facilitators, and persons with dementia. They painted 12 murals that were installed in the courtyard; three of them featured haiku from the Soul Session Poets.

13) What was especially poignant about interacting with those who attended your sessions?

I was most touched by their willingness to engage with something (haiku) that many had never heard of before. In my workshops, many were willing to write and share their brand-new haiku; in Soul Sessions, they also brought an openness and curiosity.

I was moved by their interactions. I witnessed a woman touching another’s hand to bring comfort after something particularly tender had been shared. And I joined in the laughter that seemed to fill much of the gatherings.

Some of the poignancy surrounded memories of my mother: she would have been about the same age (early 80s), and most in the group were women. Remembering her helped me feel more at ease and more open-hearted.

14) Years later, you wrote a master’s thesis for your education degree based on your experiences with the elders. I read that you focused on honoring people’s “capabilities” rather than their limitations with memory. What were some other goals you achieved?

When I defended my thesis, one of the questions I was asked was how the haiku sessions could be seen as spiritual care. I quoted the poet-philosopher John O’Donohue who wrote that “one of the deepest longings of the human soul is to be seen.” I witnessed that longing fulfilled in the camaraderie of Soul Sessions, where the persons with dementia laughed together and comforted one another. I’ve heard it said that connection is the remedy for our times.

15) Have any of your relatives or friends suffered from dementia? Has the experience of teaching haiku to elders with dementia influenced your own writing of haiku?

My aunt developed dementia around the same time of the haiku sessions. She was the one who first introduced me to haiku through giving me a newspaper article. I was heartbroken and tried to hold myself together when I was with her, letting the tears flow later. I had learned so much by being with the persons with dementia, and I was eventually able to bring some of that knowing to my visits with her. First, I needed to see beyond her physical and cognitive limitations, and just be present with her. Second, I needed to carry the conversation, knowing that she might respond to something or not. Third, I wanted to be receptive to potential moments of clarity, as well as to luminous language and word play (especially to puns). I was calmer and more open because of my involvement with Soul Sessions.

I believe all life experience informs my writing of haiku. I discovered haiku the year after my mother died, and so many of my early haiku contained the word “tears.” Upon reflection, I would say that probably the most significant lesson from my time in Soul Sessions was to approach haiku writing with more playfulness.

These are three samples of Philomene Kocher’s haiku:

using the mirror
my mother gave me
the other side magnified

family visit
resetting the porch stones
with new cement

finally
apple blossoms
and gentle rain

We thank Philomene Kocher for participating in our interview series. If you’d like to familiarize yourself more with her work, she recommends the following:

Resources

For readers interested in finding out more about poetry with persons with dementia, here are the names of some individuals doing this work:

• Anne Basting (United States): TimeSlips
• Gary Glazner (United States): Alzheimer’s Poetry Project
• John Killick (Scotland): Poetry and Dementia: A Practical Guide (2018)
• Oddgeir Synnes (Norway)

Related Books & Articles

Dan Campbell. (July 21, 2025). Book of the Week – signs of spring: haiku poems by Soul Session Poets. The Haiku Foundation.

Tom Kitwood. (1997). Dementia reconsidered; the person comes first. Buckingham, UK: Open University Press.

Tom Kitwood & Dawn Brooker. (2019). Dementia Reconsidered Revisited; the person still comes first. London, UK: Open University Press.

Kenneth Koch. (1977). I never told anybody: Teaching poetry writing in a nursing home. Toronto: Random House of Canada Limited.

Philomene Kocher. (2008). “Their capacity to delight”: Knowing persons with dementia through haiku. Unpublished master’s thesis, Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada.

Philomene Kocher and Marjorie Woodbridge. (2008). “How to hold a haiku session.” Journal of Dementia Care, 16(4),14-16.

Stella Pierides. Haiku for Parkinson’s Feature. Blog Post “Inviting Connection” by Philomene Kocher (May 12, 2024). The Haiku Foundation.

Soul Session Poets. (2007). signs of spring: haiku poems by persons with dementia. Kingston, ON.

Marjorie Woodbridge. (2008). “Soul sessions.” Journal of Dementia Care, 16(4), 14-15.

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