I was invited to tell stories to our local prep school high schoolers, and help them write stories with a cultural perspective.  They have a winter break, and students sign up for an event.  Many signed up for me, and the kindergarteners at school.  First, students were assigned to a kindergartener and interviewed them, writing down everything in small journals.

Here’s where I came in.  I met with all the students as a group and gave a presentation on storytelling.  Here is what I said to students.  It’s a long story, but a really good story:

“Storytelling has been around since before written language.  It’s the heart of learning and of joy.  The first story I told to my preschool students was a true one, ‘The Peanut Man Story’ and I’ve been telling true Jennie Stories ever since.  I’m going to tell you that story, and I want you to watch my face and listen to how my voice and body language change.”

The Peanut Man Story

It happened like this.  When I was in first and second and third grade, there was a man who lived in my town, Dr. Tyler.  He was really old.  He was short, heavy, and he had white hair and a white beard.  Who do you think he looked like?  Yes, Santa Claus.  I thought he was the real Santa Claus.  Dr. Tyler had a peanut farm, and over the summer he grew peanuts.  I’ve never seen peanuts growing.  Have you?  In the fall, he picked them all.  He had hundreds and thousands of peanuts, all in shells.  Then one day he would come to school.  No one knew when he was coming.  The principal didn’t know.  The teacher didn’t know.  He would just show up.  We could hear footsteps in the hallway and the classroom door would burst open.  There he stood, saying nothing, carrying a big sack of peanuts over his back.  Now he really looked like Santa Claus!  He dropped the heavy sack onto the floor and the teacher yelled, “It’s the Peanut Man.  Duck”.  Everybody dove under their desks.  Then he took his big hand, scooped a huge handful of peanuts, and threw them across the classroom, hard.  We covered our ears and closed our eyes.  He did this again and again, throwing peanuts everywhere.  It sounded like pelting rain.  The peanuts were hitting the desks, the chalkboard, the lights…everything in the classroom.  Suddenly the sound stopped.  Everything was empty.  We heard footsteps, and the door slamming shut.  The teacher said, “Boys and girls, the Peanut Man is gone.  You can come out now”.  Wow!  The whole room was covered with peanuts everywhere.  The floor was so full that you stepped on peanuts wherever you walked.  They were in the lights on the ceiling, too.  We spent the rest of the afternoon picking up all the peanuts, putting them on our desks in a big mound, cracking the shells, and eating them.

“Now I want to tell you one of the most popular Jennie stories.  This one is different, a little scary which children love, and plenty of voice and emotion.  As the story goes, when I was forced to take my little sister to the mean old lady’s house trick-or-treating, it’s storytelling at its best.”

The Halloween Story

It happened like this.  When I was a little girl, children went trick-or-treating all by themselves.  There were no parents trick-or-treating.  I was eight and my sister was six.  We were so excited!  I dressed up as Raggedy Ann and my sister dressed up as a scarecrow.  We had our bags ready to collect candy.  Then my Mother said, “Jennie, don’t forget to go trick-or-treating at Mrs.Crotty’s.”  Mrs. Crotty!  She was old and mean.  She never smiled.  Her house was always dark.  Even the bricks on her house were dark.  And, the bushes and trees grew all over.  I did not want to go trick-or-treating at Mrs. Crotty’s.  I didn’t say anything and my sister and I headed off all over the neighborhood.  We had so much fun and stayed out until it was very dark.  When we got home we spread our candy out.  I gave my sister the Tootsie Roll Pops and she gave me the Reese’s peanut butter cups.  We were having a great time.  Then my Mother said, “Jennie, did you go trick-or-treating at Mrs. Crotty’s house?”  I looked down and didn’t say anything.  She said, “Take your sister and go, now.”  I took my sister’s hand and we walked to the house.  By now, trick-or-treat was over, and there were no lights on at any house.  Of course Mrs. Crotty’s house was the scariest of all.  We walked up to her dark porch.  I was squeezing my sister’s hand so hard.  I told her to knock, but she said, “No, Mother told you do it.”  So, I swallowed hard, knocked on the door with my heart pounding, and then there was a creak of the door.  Just as we were ready to run away the lights came on, and Mrs. Crotty was there.  She was smiling!  She went to the kitchen and brought both of us a huge popcorn ball, warm and covered with caramel and butter.  She wasn’t even scary!

“Now, you have the power to tell the story about the child you interviewed.  But the challenge is to incorporate a cultural element.  You can do that!  Children have creative minds, and given an opportunity, want to make up stories.  This fall we learned about woodland animals, and children wanted to write their own story Bear Story.”

“Many children’s books have a multicultural theme.  Classical stories often have a new twist.  One of the best is The Three Little Javelinas, by Susan Lowell, a take-off of The Three Little Pigs.  I’m going to read you the story and use props, a pig and wolf ears.”

“Another wonderful story is Abiyoyo, a traditional South African folk tale about a father who is a magician and his son who plays the ukulele.  People tell stories of the giants who lived long ago, especially Abiyoyo.  I’m going to read and sing the book, and use a magic wand and a giant.”

“Because this is an African tale, we learned some Swahili words, and children wanted to write their own story.  So, we substituted Swahili words for English words.”

“Children loved this!  In this case with Abiyoyo, storytelling had everything from soup to nuts.”

After my presentation I spent time with each student helping them  to write and tell their student’s stories.  This week, they get to read their stories to me before reading them to the children.

Jennie