Fun with Methodists

I had a gig today at a Methodist school. It was my second visit. Earlier I had told stories to the three and four year olds. They had me set up in the chapel which also served as an activities room. It had incredible acoustics. Before everyone arrived, I played the spoons a little bit. The clattering echoed off the walls making a joyful noise of sorts. When the kids arrived, they had to sit on individual squares of carpeting. That lasted all of about four seconds. Getting three and four year old children to do anything continually for longer than it takes to turn a back to them, is almost physically impossible. They were squirming after the first story. I was sweating. During the second one they calmed down a bit. I took a pause between finger play stories, then one of the kids jumped up and said, “Do you want to see my tattoo?” This I did not expect. In a blink, he was standing in front of me showing me a red and blue U.S. Flag on his forearm. It was July 3rd. The teachers had applied patriotic temporary tattoos to them. “Wow!” I said, barely able to focus on the little arm held about two inches from my nose. Soon, I was surrounded by little arms and legs that were attached to little bodies with little mouths that said, “Look at mine. No, look at mine. Isn't mine neat?”
“Wonderful! Fabulous! Oh, look at that one!” I said. “Now, sit back down and I'll tell some more stories.” They slowly returned to their squares. I finished up and they left by jumping from square to square. In the break before the older group came, I gave serious thought to escaping through the back door. Phew, I was already exhausted. The next group were second grade and up. They sat quietly and listened. It was fun to use the acoustics of the place when I told them slightly scary stories, it was a church school after all and sometimes stories that are too scary are frowned upon by the teachers. Still, hearing the Hairy Man say, “I'll dry up your cow and dry up your well and send weevils to eat up your cotton” as the words reverberate off the walls of a huge chapel is pretty scary for little kids. I was so happy with the way that they were listening that I went a little over on time. Telling to audiences like that is like getting a nice slice of key lime pie after a dinner of liverwurst. You tend to forget the first course.
So today was my second visit. In this visit I was supposed to do a workshop that got the kids telling more. I told stair-step or cumulative stories such as the Brave Tailor and The House that Jack Built. The kids then made up their own versions and presented them to the rest of the class. They were bright kids and didn't have much problem with the activities. At the end, I was talking with them and asking them questions like, “What was your favorite story? What did you learn today? Did you have fun?” They answered all the questions, but after I asked the last one and they all said “Yeah!”, one girl turned to me and said, “Did you have fun?” I paused for a moment. I'd never been asked that question before. I'd had about five hours of sleep the night before thanks to my friend insomnia, had spent the morning agonizing over sending price quotes out to prospective clients, and had driven about a hundred miles in the past two days. I looked down at her and said, “Yes, I had a lot of fun.” Moments like this are what its all about, when you're telling and they're laying on the carpet getting quieter and quieter, when they jump at the scary parts, when they laugh at the funny parts, when they don't want to leave when you've finished, they just keep sitting there talking to you hoping that it will keep going. Yes, that's a mighty fine thing.
- posted by Brian Herod @ 11:15 PM