We’re Free

Posted on July 25, 2019 by hdh

We’re Free

The year was 1961.  I was in 5th grade at P.S. 81 in the Bronx. Those were the days where students were tracked based on academic achievement. So the -1 classes were the top students, down to the – 4 classes that were the lower academic classes. As I was advancing through elementary school I bounced around in the academic numbering. I don’t know where I was placed in Kindergarten or 1st grade, but based on the report cards from elementary school that I still have, I was in class 2-2 in second grade, where I must have exceeded expectations, for I was in class 3-1 in third grade. I’m not sure what happened in 3rd grade, but whatever it was, it was decided I was not one of the academically enriched student candidates; my placement in 4th grade was 4-3. I had issues, I guess, especially since at one point for disciplinary reasons they put me back in a third-grade class for three days, during that school year. You can read more about that here: http://www.hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=1334 

Despite my discipline and academic regression, I was promoted to class 5-2 the next year and subsequently to class 6-2 the following year, before I left my elementary school to journey on to Junior High School.

But it was in 1961, in fifth grade, that my most memorable year of school occurred. And it was all because of my teacher, Miss Hurrell. 

Our class sizes were not small in those days. My 5th-grade class had 31 students in it  (16 boys, 15 girls), which would be dwarfed a year later in sixth grade where my class had 37 students (15 boys, 22 girls).

The class was made up of a heterogeneous group of characters some motivated, some not, some active, some shy, some loud, some antsy. You get the idea. You’ll notice in the class picture I’m the shortest one in the class (second row, far right). Looking over the class, I can still name most of the kids in that class. Miss Hurrell may have been one of the tallest teachers that I ever had. She always had a smile on her face and was very soft-spoken. I don’t remember her ever yelling at us.

We were graded on our report cards in areas such as Social behavior, Work and Study Habits, Language Arts (Reading, Oral and Written Expression), Social Studies, Mathematics, Science, and Other Areas (Health Education, Music, Art, Crafts…) The grades in each area were Excellent, Good, Fair, or Unsatisfactory. There were three marking periods. As I look through my old report cards from P.S. 81, a pattern to my grades is very clear.  I would start the year mostly in the Fair to Good Range, though there were a number of Unsatisfactory marks. By the second semester, there was some improvement and more by the last semester. I rarely got excellent in anything. Fifth grade was the outlier. Miss Hurrell never gave me any Unsatisfactory or Fair grades. I was Good from the start and even ended the year with two Excellent grades in Language Arts. I have to assume that she graded similarly with all of the other students because there were no complaints. That class loved her and would do anything for her. For once we had someone who appreciated us for all the quirks we exhibited and we were encouraged to grow.

All this love and praise came to head when Miss Hurrell had to leave one afternoon and they couldn’t find a substitute teacher for her. It was the practice at the time that if your teacher was out for a partial day, you would either have a substitute teacher or your class would be split up between other classes in the school. On this particular afternoon, it was decided not to split up our class. The only alternative left was to leave our class free and unattended for the afternoon. Today, that would be an unthinkable alternative. In fact, I’m pretty sure that it was an unthinkable alternative at that time too.

Despite its potential outcomes, Miss Hurrell convinced the powers that be to let our class remain intact, by ourselves for the afternoon. She provided work for us to do and had other teachers in the building stop in periodically to see how we were doing. All I remember from that afternoon was that you could hear a pin drop in the classroom. We were focused and diligent in the tasks that she left for us. I do remember teachers popping into the room periodically and by the look on their faces, they were amazed at how well we did on our own. They never stayed very long.

Miss Hurrell’s belief and trust in us was well-founded for that one day. We were given our freedom and we did not abuse it. Our class got many compliments and the feeling that I retained from the whole experience has lasted a long time.

It should be noted that Miss Hurrell never attempted to duplicate that experience again. Probably a good choice on her part. 

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To be brave…

Posted on July 18, 2019 by hdh

To Be Brave

“There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The true courage is in facing danger when you are afraid.” L. Frank Baum

I’m a storyteller and musician. Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking that every time a performer stands up in front of an audience there is not some sense of foreboding. Granted, for the most part, there is no danger involved in telling stories or singing to adults or children in public; but fears and anxieties do exist. The fears usually fall into the categories of forgetting a part of the song or story, audience distractions, weak participation, or a bad review. I’ve never performed, whether it be to a crowd or even to an individual, where I didn’t have some fear inside of me that said, “This might not work out for you today.” 

In spite of that fear, I go forward and perform. Do I make mistakes?… Yes. Does my audience always participate as I want?… No. Are there distractions?… Lots of times. But I haven’t quit yet.

In my opinion, to claim to have no fear demonstrates a lack of involvement and caring. To be so confident that you are going to do everything correctly and be a star is just plain ego. And be assured the audience gets that. 

Imagine a performance where the teller stands up, looks out above the audience and just says, “Well, you know, once upon a time, yada, yada, yada and they all lived happily ever after. Right?” That’s confidence. No fear there. The teller knows everything, he’s done it time and time again. And the audience always loves him, after all, they clapped at the end. Maybe not.

Now imagine a performer who thinks about those fears, acknowledges them and continues to perform, no matter how many times they’ve performed the same story, by standing in front of that audience, knowing that they might mess up and they might not get the reaction they want; that’s bravery. The teller loses themself in the story once they begin and lets the fear guide their telling rather than inhibit it. That’s bravery. “Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a teller of tales. He looked out at the people, focused on a single face and became the story, not the teller.”  And so the tale begins. 

Bravery doesn’t come from being self-assured and fearless. It comes from knowing what you fear and letting it remind you to do the best you can despite those fears. It acknowledges that sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. It allows you to try new things and become what you are meant to be. 

Brave.

 

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A Picture’s Tale

Posted on July 13, 2019 by hdh

With pictures to choose from, an image and tale emerge:

A Picture’s Tale

It was late in the day. Time for me to go out into the garden and trim the flowers, pull the weeds and clear away the brush from the soil left by digging of moles, chipmunks, and that pesky raccoon that haunts my garden each night. The sky was clear and there was barely a flow of air.  Sweet aromas filled the air wafting from the flowers that bloomed this spring. The solitude of working in my private patch of wilderness bringing peace to my soul.

As I stop to rest for a while, the stillness is broken by the humming of wings in the air. I try not to move with any sudden motion as a small but colorful hummingbird flits by. It stops mid-flight right in front of me, hovers for a moment, then moves quickly from side to side checking out all aspects of my visage trying to determine friend or foe, animal or plant, food source or inanimate obstacle. 

I remain perfectly still. I can hear the buzzing of its wings as it circumnavigates my head determining its next step.

It decides I’m not something to be threatened by and slowly moves to the nearest flower within my sight and drinks in its sumptuous nectar.

I hear the high pitched chirps as the nectar flows from flower to bird. It stops periodically to hover again by my head examining it for any signs of life. Then back to the flower, until its hunger is temporarily sated and flies on.

The afternoon’s work is done for it and me. Back to the house, the cup of tea that awaits and the beauty of life left behind.

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Command training

Posted on July 11, 2019 by hdh

Command Training

I’ve never owned a dog and have no plans to ever own one. I do admire some dog owners, like my neighbor, who has his dogs well under control, without having had sent their dogs to obedience school. At a simple word he gets the dogs he watches to do amazing things, such as sit, follow, lie down, stop barking, etc. Some of my other pet-owning neighbors, that have even sent their pets to obedience school, don’t get the same results.  I can hear the thoughts of their dogs as their owners issue the same commands…”Yeah right, maybe next time.”

In some respects, I can identify with the owners that can’t control their pets. I was an elementary school teacher for 33 years. I’m sure you’ve heard of the term, “teacher’s pet”. Consider any one of my classes as a group of teacher’s pets. As most teachers do, we use the same commands that dog owners use.  

Think of it… Every time you want the students to get back in their seats…Sit! let alone having them stay in their seats or in a certain portion of the playground or together as a group on a field trip…Stay!.

I once taught a small group of gifted students and told them to sit on their chairs. I probably shouldn’t have worded it that way. Sure enough, one student decided to sit on top of the back of his chair rather than in the seat portion, following my directions…Down.  

We’re on the playground or in the classroom getting ready to go to a special and you tell them to line up. Some students actually respond to me. Others… Come!

Now follow me down the hall to an assembly, assuming they finally have all lined up…Heel!

Since schools don’t provide individual cubicles for each student, they are either sitting in groups at tables or with individual desks combined to make groups. Unless you put up dividers at each place, rarely can you get through a lesson without someone else touching someone else’s book, pencil, eraser, or space…Off!

And then there is, “Can I go to the bathroom?” the moment they get back from recess, having passed said bathroom on their way back to the classroom. “Can I go to the office and call my mom, I forgot my lunch?”, “Can we read out in the courtyard? Mrs. Clark lets us.” “Can we do this for homework instead?” … The answer and command is always…No!

And finally, the “No Bark” command. How many different ways can you get your class pets to keep the noise down and stop talking? Clap…Clap…Clap.Clap.Clap.

Pupil obedience school and command training for teachers are an important part of what should be considered standard child and professional development. But as with my neighbors and their dogs, sometimes it works and sometimes…”Yeah right, maybe next time.

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Practice!

Posted on June 20, 2019 by hdh

Today’s writing was inspired by the following picture:

Practice!

“Play! It’s time to practice.”

“Not again,” Charlie said, “Didn’t I just practice last week.”

“You’re music teacher said that you must practice at least 30 minutes a day and I’m supposed to record the amount of time in this notebook she gave me.”

“Mom, you do realize that my teacher is a sadist. By making you keep a record, she gets to succeed in her evil plan that no one can have fun with this experience.”

His mother replied, “All I know is that she said that you have the potential to become a great musician and get into the finest music academy if I get you to practice.”

“I’m guessing,” Charlie retorted, “that the jelly beans are supposed to be the incentive to get me to become this virtuoso on violin and horn.”

“It worked for your sister.”

“My sister is only FOUR YEARS OLD!” Charlie continued, “And if I only had to play Twinkle and Mississippi Hot Dog, I’d practice too!”

“Well, you’re more advanced than she is. Now go and do your practice and I”ll start the timer.” You could tell that Charlie’s mother was getting annoyed.

“Whatever,” he sighed.

And that began the grueling 30 minutes of practice. First, there were warm-ups, then scales, followed by the pieces that he had been assigned. If only there had been a way for him to play the two instruments at the same time, he could be done in 15 minutes and then say his 30 minutes were up.

Charlie was somewhat gifted in music. He had taught himself a number of instruments with no instruction. It was said he had an ear for music. He could hear a tune and then figure out how to play it. His biggest problem was that having an ear for music wasn’t helping him in the pieces that he was assigned. He always was given the 2nd and 3rd parts, meaning that he rarely got the melody parts to play. And since the tunes were not familiar tunes, he was just practicing notes and rhythms.

As practice ended and both the tuba and violin were put away on the shelf. He stared at the jelly beans just sitting there on the table and shelf as his reward. As he spread the jelly beans out across the table with the instruments just sitting there, these lyrics came into his head.

Jelly bean, Jelly bean, come hither and play

The songs you’ve been practicing on this very day.

You’ll be a great player and famous to all

Just keep up your practice and stand very tall

Your teacher has said so; your mom keeps the time.

But despite all you tempt me, this music’s a crime.

Don’t think I’m not willing to play on my own

Though preference for me is to play on my phone.

Until tomorrow…

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In the beginning…

Posted on June 13, 2019 by hdh

In the beginning…

I had never acted before in a play. I do remember one time, when I was a teenager, I joined some community theater program and was cast as a bit player for the play, “Rebel without a Cause”.  The only thing I remember about that play was that it never made it to the stage. So my record stood, through my high school and college years, and the first quarter of my teaching career that I was never in a play.  The only acting that I did, post-college, was in my classroom, where I pretended that I was a teacher. I must have done pretty well at that since I kept that role for 33 years and have played stand-in roles now for the last 6 years.

Things changed for me in 1980 when the Middle School that I had worked in, put on the play, “Hans Christian Andersen” and decided I would be the perfect candidate to play the lead role. This was the musical version that Danny Kaye played in the movies. Up until that time I had never told a story without a book in hand, though I did sing in class with my students. 

I was enthralled by the part. It amazed me how all the student actors focussed on my storytelling and singing role. Of course, they were being told to by the director, but it was still inspiring. Add to that the performances that we did for the community and I was in another world. 

Here are 2 songs I performed in the play:

“I’m Hans Christian Andersen”:

“Thumbelina”:

This storytelling thing was something that held a lot of power, I needed to learn more about it.

I researched storytelling through books, remember this was the 80’s before the Internet. I discovered there was an organization called NAAPS (the National Association for the Advancement and Preservation of Storytelling) which I joined it had an annual festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee, called the National Storytelling Festival. It was always held during the first weekend of October. I convinced my school district to send me to this festival, two years in a row.

Between the inspiration I got from the festival and all the readings I had done, I realized that I had found something powerful to teach with. My storytelling career was born.

I’ve been telling stories now for over 35 years and have never looked back. It was as I suspected an incredibly powerful learning tool. And the neat thing about storytelling is that anyone can do it. In fact, most of us do.

Once upon a time, there was a classroom teacher who was known to wander the halls of teacherdom searching for a way to reach the people he taught. Happily, he found the path that led him to his successful ever after. And therein lies the tale.

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Ode to a Rose

Posted on June 8, 2019 by hdh

Ode to a rose

A rose is a rose and so it’s been said

But is that true of a rose that is dead?

It once was a flower that shone, had a scent

But now is a nothing, a compost event.

It’s shrivelled and crumbly without any smell

It’s dark, without color, you hardly can tell

What it was in its past life – a limb or a flower.

Without its distinctness, a clump of black powder.

So remember of roses until they are not.

They are pleasant and pretty and smell quite a lot.

But there’ll come a time when they wither, I assert.

That it is not a rose, but instead, just plain dirt.

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You gotta’ wait…

Posted on June 6, 2019 by hdh

You gotta’ wait…

As a storyteller, I get to perform in various venues. It could be a library, a school, a campsite, a festival, or some other gathering of people. I am also a musician and when I perform I sometimes perform stories or songs that I have written myself. My inspiration for those pieces of writing or songs come from a lot of different places. Sometimes it’s a dream I have, where a tune gets stuck in my head and I have to get up to record the music so that I don’t forget the tune when I wake up the next day. Sometimes it is an adventurous story that evolves in my mind overnight that I need to flesh out the next day. And at other times it is just being out in the world watching and listening to things that go on around me. It might be a visual happening that catches my attention or a turn of phrase someone says, that prompts me to expand an idea into a story or song.

I was invited by a school district to perform for their primary school children while they were visiting a local Barnes and Noble store. I wasn’t being paid but was donating my performance in the hopes that I would be hired by the district. I thought the performance was okay though I never heard from the district again.  As I was packing up and bringing stuff out to my car, and the kids were all lining up to buy books, I noticed one rogue boy who wasn’t quite getting the idea of lining up in a single line. His teacher grabbed him and pointed out to him that “You always have to be behind someone when you’re waiting in line.” And that was my new catchphrase to work from.

I now had the start to a song, which I have been working on for a number of years now. I’ve completed the adult version, but still need to write lyrics that can be sung with kids using examples that they can relate to.  The music for it still evades me. I had a tune that originally I had dreamt up to go with it, but after writing the lyrics it didn’t work. I have since enlisted the help of my niece’s high school-aged son, who is awesome at writing music. Eventually, I hope to have a new piece to perform. I guess I have to wait in line until all the pieces come together.

For those of you interested, here’s the chorus and one verse of the song:

Chorus

You gotta be behind someone

When you’re waiting in line.

You can’t just stand in the middle of the road

And hope that you will shine

Just hold your course and wait your turn

And hope you’ll end up fine.

————-

Got to make a service call, the dryer’s fuse has blown

I get the number just for help and dial it on the phone

It rings at least a dozen times and then I hear a click

A voice comes on I do not know, I listen to their schtick

 

Before they tell me who they are, I have to listen close.

Para español por favor oprima el número dos.

I hang on thinking what to do and then a voice so fine

“Your call is very important to us so please stay on the line.”

 

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A to Z Challenge 2019 – A Whiplash Reflection

Posted on May 6, 2019 by hdh

 

A to Z Challenge Blog 2019

A Whiplash Reflection

Having challenged myself in the past 3 years to write about one topic for each letter of the theme I chose for the A to Z Challenge, this year I made it more difficult. I would write about multiple topics for each letter. The theme was Whiplash! Defined as: An injury to the neck caused by an abrupt jerking motion of the head, either backward or forward; And in the case of writing or speaking, caused by a rapid change of topic without prior notice.

It was inspired by my conversations with a co-worker who complained that I was giving her whiplash every time I changed the topic of a subject we were in conversation about. “Whiplash” became the cue word that I would use to prepare her for a change in topic I was going to throw at her.

Similar to the previous challenges I brainstormed with my family, friends, and students for ideas that I could include in each of my writing pieces. When I got to that letter, if I wasn’t satisfied with the choices I had made, I would resort to the Oxford Universal Dictionary ©1955 for more ideas. For each letter, I had about 4-6 ideas to choose from. I settled for 2-3 for each piece.

What was fun this time was that I could vary the style of writing that I used. For the most part all the pieces involved narratives or opinion pieces on whatever word I was using to write about. But there were times where I played with writing fictional stories. Check out E, U, & Z for those.  I also tried my hand at poetry. Check out H, K, & Q for those. For H, in particular, I just felt like taking a break from thoughtful writing and played with using limericks as my overall genre.

Here are all the final topics that I chose for this year with a link to get you directly to those entries if you’re interested:

A: anger, advice, aging   /B: books, birthdays, binge watching   /C: computer updates, cablevision, conundrum   /D: Darwin awards, data, dreams   /E: energy, endings, exercise /F: French, forgetting     /G: garbage, German, grammar, Grimm Brothers   /H: hiccups, hair, honey    /I: ideas, imagination, ice cream   /J: junk food, jury of your peers, journals   /K: kitchens, kindergarten, Krona    L: laughing, languages, listening    M: mysteries, mistakes, memory    N: nonsense   /O: organization,, opinions, optimist   /P: podcasts, photos,  passwords   /Q: “Q” words, quotes, quiet    R: relatives, rumors, rules   /S: screen time,  sleep, schedules    /T: television, time   /U: unicycles, unique, unusual     V: vanilla extract, vision, visitors    W: worries, double letters,  water   /X: xenophobia, X-words   /Y: yelling, yesterday, yield      /Z: zoos, zero, zap, zen

 

Again as in the past once the pieces were written, I spent a lot of time trying to find cartoons and graphics to fit what I wrote about. I was able to keep about 2 days ahead of myself throughout the month which made being on time with my posts doable. There were a number of days in which I would write 2 entries on the same day, just to stay ahead. Having Sunday’s off also helped.

I used Google Docs to write all the posts and WordPress to post them. I scheduled each post to publish at 10 minutes after midnight each day. When I woke up in the morning, I would cut and paste the published URL into Facebook (both the A to Z Challenge group and my own timeline), Twitter and LinkedIn.

Being so tied up in writing, I didn’t get a chance to read many other people’s blogs, but again hope to do so as the year goes on. I bookmarked a few blogs from other participants. I didn’t get many comments on my blog entries. Thank you for those that did comment.  

There were 2 blogs in particular that I followed throughout the month. Zalka Csenge Virág’s The Multicolored Diary and Stuart Nager’s Tale Spinning – A Car in the Woods. I would highly recommend them.

I’m looking forward to next year when I try my fifth A to Z Challenge. I’m not sure where I’m going to go with it, Possibly fiction or maybe poetry. I enjoyed using those styles of writing this year. Till then…Whiplash!

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Please Stay.

Posted on May 4, 2019 by hdh

The story spark used for this piece was a lyric from the song “Stay just a little bit longer…”

Please Stay

It was to be our last time together. I wish I had known that. Please stay a little bit longer. The touch of his hand, The aged look on his face as he gazed into my eyes. He must have known. Please stay a little bit longer.

Mom knew; she must have, but she didn’t say. Please stay a little bit longer.

His words of wisdom; his guiding thoughts; the gentle tones of his voice calming me when I was distraught, but never to be heard again. Please stay a little bit longer.

A tight hug, a simple wave, the door closes. Please stay a little bit longer.

And he was no more.

But wait…there are the pictures, the recordings, and there are the memories. They always remain.

I guess he stayed.

 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Characters and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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