I am a true morning person. Prior to retirement, when my life was overflowing with “Musts”, I learned that by getting up by 4 am, I had two hours on most people in the world. Bonus time to squeeze more out of my days. There was still never enough time as VST and I danced as fast as we could. Two careers stole 10 hours a day, including commutes, but, that left 14 hours a day, in which to choose our activities. Deciding we could sleep when we were dead, many, many days were fueled on 5 hours or less sleep. Doubling our productivity, we lived enough for four lives instead of two.
Now, I still awaken at 4:45, ready to tackle the day. I’ve chosen to omit television from my life, which has cleared my head for much more creativity. In my experience, visual stimulus robs the brain of the ability to create magical places and things.
As a third grade teacher, story time was a reward for me. It was never included in scripted minutes to which teachers must now adhere. As I did for cursive, too, I shaved time off other subjects, because story time was something that my kids and I needed. Like air. After lunch, little bundles of sweaty happiness knew. They came to our reading carpet and got a story rock. While they sat to listen, the rock was to remain in their hand, not to be thrown at Sally or Rob. These were thinking rocks. Smooth and flat, they fit a small hand nicely and were to be manipulated as the story unfolded. During suspenseful times, the rocks moved between their little fingers. The bigger wiggles ceased, my students looked on. Not with a pure gaze, but with visualized words flashing before their eyes. The rocks were my educational strategy, long before spinner fidgets. Quieter and less distracting.
I had a favorite book, which became an annual read. “Because of Winn Dixie.” It was one that I read every single year because of the voices. They were in rich southern drawl, which I read in a very entertaining way. The kids ate it up. I loved reading it to them. Winn! Winn! The character, India Opal, hadn’t had the easiest life, living with her father, The Preacher. Her mom was absent, never even introduced to the story. The kids related to Opal. When I started reading the award winning book to them, it was brand new. Right off the press. No movies. No visuals. We created our own out of the words. Each of us would have known Opal on the street by individual ideas of her height, weight, hair length and smile. We knew her in our hearts.
After I had read the book many times, the worst of all things happened. Towards the end of my 3rd Grade adventures, when scripted lessons and minutes timed by the principal had robbed so many teachable moments, rich and joyful, “Because of Winn Dixie” became a movie. My class being legendary, new 3rd Graders came in knowing my “after lunch story time” was a priceless adventure for the mind. Everyone was giddy when I brought out the book. But, the saddest thing happened. Slowly, the rocks couldn’t work over whispered spoilers. Kids commented on the color of the actresses red hair, the size of the dog, or anything else Hollywood had dictated by visuals to be absolute. Just like that the magic was stolen. I never read that story to anyone again.
Most of my best stories are totally without visuals, forcing me to make sure I get the words just right to allow the reader to visualize what I’m describing. It would be so interesting to see the results you all come up with. It would certainly show me where I need to improve my descriptions. Even for stories I have told for years, my mental visualization changes over time. The stories mellow, or disappear because they no longer hold my interest. Others become stylized and cartoon-ish as I struggle to remember exact details, and create a bit of filler that suits the situation.
One of the most difficult situations for any story teller is when a co-participant in the story corrects your version. I’m sure that are many of you that are smiling if you’ve ever been interrupted by a spouse, just the wee bit jealous that they weren’t the one sharing the delicious tale. VST was the best at this. I would always take the bait. In this way, I suppose were were most entertaining as we bantered through. I miss his interruptions, as they validated that all the rich and precious memories I have did occur. With him. Over the last 50 years of life.
So many stories. So little time. Be sure to read to someone in your life at some time in your life. Reading a story and doing voices is not only wonderful for the person listening, but the person telling. It is especially wonderful in a classroom, with 20 sets of eyeballs watching their own visuals, while a teacher captivates them in southern drawl.