No time for stories?
Coincidences are the stuff of story. I’m keeping a record of ones that happen to me. Last Thursday brought a good one.
After two full days of storytelling workshops in Barnet and Croydon, I met up for lunch with my lovely god-daughter and her baby in Covent Garden on Thursday. During lunch, I asked her about her siblings because I hadn’t heard news of them for a bit and when we went out of the cafe afterwards after hauling the baby buggy back down the stairs, I looked across Neal’s Yard and saw a tall young man in a woolly hat who looked remarkably like her brother. I was so surprised I couldn’t believe it could be him. Yet I couldn’t believe it wasn’t either. So I stared and then he stared (he was standing talking to another young guy) and I thought he might be feeling offended that there was this older woman staring at him like that. Suddenly he obviously caught sight of his sister and called out loudly and then we were all surprised and delighted. What a coincidence! So many of them happen to me, I’m fascinated. This was one of those extraordinary meeting, a true-life example of something which happens repeatedly in folktales and myths. There of course, the meetings are always crucial to how the story turns out.
But why is there so little time for stories these days? Everyone, it seems, is swamped by paperwork. In every workshop I run, people are complaining that there are so many forms to fill in, they don’t get the time to focus on the things that are really important. And storytelling, they all volunteer, is central. Stories make children happy, giving a real sense of well-being and, in the process, a huge amount of natural learning. They also make the adults happy. I notice that during my workshops, people start to smile and laugh enjoying the work we are doing and knowing it will be immediately relevant back at school or nursery. This applies whatever age they work with. Last Tuesday in Barnet, it was Early Years staff. In Croydon on Wednesday, it was teachers from Year 6 down to Reception. The techniques that we explored for using with oral stories – storymapping, storyboarding, visualising, retelling – are lively and productive for every year-group. I wish they could be more introduced into Secondary Schools too.
Wednesday’s theme was a mouthful to say: Cross-Curricular Literacy Through Storytelling. The story we worked on in the morning was the West African myth, How Sun and Moon Got Into The Sky. I remember telling it to a group of school psychotherapists at their closing conference before ILEA ended. Exploring the central themes – change and liberation and its attendant possibilities of blame and release – was a powerful experience for those people that day. The story does it every time: when you get into it (via visualisation and role-playing techniques) it proves rich at many levels.
It’s a good time of the year to look up at the stars and, as I usually do at this time of the year, I’ve begun telling the Star Apple story again. I’m also currently teaching Early Years staff my Going To See Father Christmas rap which I’m putting back up on the Listen to A Story section of my website. But I’m distressed to hear that in many Early Years settings, people are feeling they should no longer pay any attention to marking the celebration of Christmas. Is this political correctness or multiculturalism gone mad? Whatever your religious views, is Christmas not important to recognise and know about? And can Father Christmas not be regarded as ‘a story’ which children can enjoy?