We Are Story Animals

These last few days, fellow Teaching Authors Mary Ann,  April,  JoAnn, Esther and wonderful new TA Carla have discussed the blending of fiction and nonfiction. In the end, as I noted in my post, I offered that we are story animals, as Kendall Haven (Story Proof: The Science Behind the Startling Power of Story, 2007) suggests. We have told our stories for over 100,000 years. Not every culture has developed codified laws or written language, but every culture in the history of the world has created myths, legends, fables, and folk tales.

Stories are so old, so intimately connected with language, some researchers suggest that language was created to express stories. Researchers have found that telling stories at an early age helps develop math abilities and language literacy. And teachers know that understanding the story process helps young readers understand the organization of language.

 A simple definition of a folktale would be that it is a traditional story, usually dressed in metaphor and symbol, told by a people—of a particular community, group, or nation—to help explain how and why things happen, how one meets the challenges of life, or how one might become a better, or wiser, person. But such a simple definition negates a bigger truth embedded in these tales.

Traditional tales are like icebergs; we see only the tip. Jung would call this tip the “personal unconscious,” the aspect of story derived from personal experience and acquisition. But the greater meaning of the tale lies beneath this surface of consciousness. Carl Jung calls this deeper layer the collective unconscious, an inherited “psychic system of a collective, universal, and impersonal nature which is defined in all individuals.” (Man and His Symbols, 1968).


As Rafe Martin tells us, traditional tales belong to the world of the imagined, to the portals of dreams. “They are the eternal literature of humanity.”


 Remember the child’s game, “Telephone”? Everyone sits in a circle, and then the teacher whispers a joke or a story to the student next to her. That student whispers the same story to the one sitting next to her. That student whispers the same story to the one next to her until the story makes its way around the circle. The last student recites the story to the group. Of course, with each retelling, the child puts her own spin on the tale, sometimes reordering the events, recasting it in personal symbols, and reinventing characters as she understands them. That’s the folklore process in action. Someone tells a story. That story is told and retold, and with every telling, the story changes as the teller makes it her own. Despite the many changes the story underwent, there remains intact certain kernels of emotional truth. An old Ibo (Africa) proverb states, “all stories are true.” Not necessarily factual, but certainly true to what it means to be human.  

Europeans left behind their own ancient histories to seek a new life in an unknown land. Upon arrival, they found that they needed to redefine themselves as a people. If the new land was a sanctuary in which they could pursue “life, liberty, and prosperity,” it also proved an overwhelmingly strange and alien place. These new immigrants dealt with their insecurities when faced with forces greater than themselves by overwhelming these forces through the “magnification” of the self, epitomized  in the unrestrained exploits of Davy Crockett, Paul Bunyan, Pecos Bill, and many others.

From the beginnings of the westward movement, the near incomprehensible vastness of the landscape, the extraordinary fertility of the land, and the variety of natural “peculiarities” inspired a humor of extravagance and exaggeration. The immigrant’s need to affirm the value of a culture independent of European refinements, constraints, and mores created a humor that became exclusive. The immigrants purged their terror of the overwhelming trials of life by minimizing it, and the storyteller as narrator became superior to circumstance with wit and humor.


In true rough-and-tumble fashion, the hero and heroine of the tall tale mocks and defies convention. The tall-talk of the tall tale, like the hero who inhabits these tales, is as wild and unabashed as the frontier that created it. The language defies the tidy and restrictive, even uptight, structure of formal grammar. It mocks it, in fact, using pseudo-Latinate prefixes and suffixes to expand on the root. The result is a teetotaliciously, splendiferous reflection of a frontier too expansive for mere words to capture. By creating such a grand language, the frontier storyteller found a means to make an unknown frontier less scary. The grander language captured the bigger ideas of frontier life.

 In reading such tales, a young reader develops an appreciation for language itself, for language is more than mere words: the rhythms and patterns, the musicality and the poetry of language.  Studies suggest that language acquisition is keyed to youth, and we can infer that language appreciation is similarly keyed.
 
As Mary and Herbert Knapp suggest, the traditional tale plays a vital role in holding together “the frayed, factory-made fabric of our lives.” Such tales connect us to the past and to each other, exist when people share an identity, “and since all of us once belonged to that group of human beings we call children, the folklore of childhood brings together all of us.” (One Potato, Two Potato: The Secret Education of American Children, 1976).

What are your favorite traditional tales?


Thank you! A version of this article was published by Children’s Literature Network (2012). Thank you to Vicki Palmquist and everyone at Winding Oaks Children’s Literature for all their support for the children’s education and literature field.

Bobbi Miller

Apple Dumplings

If you live long enough, life becomes more about letting go than of gathering. It is inevitable, this letting go.

Sometimes we have to let go of our favorite things: our favorite pair of shorts worn to the fray. Our favorite book with its tattered pages. Even our car, with its 200,000 miles of memories.

Sometimes we let go of clutter, and wonder why it took us so long to throw them out. You know what I speak of: The box full of old research gathered for stories that probably won’t ever be written. Those uncomfortable shoes with pointy toes and impossibly high heels that you never, ever wore, but dang they look sparklie. Those skinny jeans that felt more like a bone corset then denim. Those old love letters, although the guy went on to marry someone else. Those laser disks (what?). Those eight-tracks (what?). That rotary phone (what?). Those old ideas that no longer serve a purpose in our lives.

Sometimes the letting go is more profound, as we say good-bye to our special friends, the four-legged as well as the two-legged sort. And those with wings. And we say goodbye to family. To colleagues and heroes and inspirations.

Of course, the key phrase in all of this, If You Live. And perhaps, along the way of living our lives, we gather some understanding of it all. We become, hopefully, wise. It’s an elusive concept to grasp. Through the ages, religious leaders, philosophers, even politicians have debated on what is wisdom.

According to Dr. Vivian Clayton, wisdom consists of three elements: cognition, reflection, compassion. Wisdom happens when we take the time to gain insights and perspectives from one’s cognitive knowledge , what she calls the reflective dimension. Then we can use those insights to understand and help others, what she calls the compassionate dimension.

Of course, if it were that easy, with just three ingredients, there wouldn’t be all this debating about what it means. That’s why I like hanging out with poets. They know about such things. Marion Dane Bauer inspired me in her recent post, “Because receiving is another way of giving. The giver grows in the giving. And that’s a truth we all need to hold close at any time of life!”

And her wisdom resonated with me. I am not the poet like my fellow Teaching Authors. Did you see Carmela’s Thanks-Giving Thanku? 

I am just a storyteller. Begging your indulgence, I was reminded of an old English folktale (Source: Lindsay, Maud. The Storyteller. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard; 1915).  It went something like this: 

There once was an old woman who lived in the woods. One day, she decided to bake apple dumplings. These dumplings were her favorite. She had everything she needed to bake the dumplings, except for the apples. She had plenty of plums, however. She filled a basket with these plums, covering them in her finest white linen. Then she dressed in her finest clothes and set out to trade these plums for some apples.

Morguefile

By and by, she came across a young woman. The old woman asked the younger if she had apples to trade for her plums.

“No,” said the young woman, as she looked with such longing at the plums. “I have plenty of chickens, and not much else.”

The old woman traded her basket of plums for a bag of feathers. The old woman thought it was a good trade. The bag of feathers was much lighter to carry.

By and by, the old woman came to a garden, one of the loveliest gardens she had ever seen. She stopped a moment to smell the roses when she heard a couple arguing. The couple saw her, too.

“Tell us, old woman," said the woman.  "Do you agree that cotton is best for making a cushion on our bed?”

“No,” said the old woman.

“See, the old woman agrees with me,” said the man. “Straw is best for our bed!”

“Never straw!” said the old woman, as she held up her bag of feathers. “But a bed made of feathers is fit for a king!”

The old woman traded the bag of feathers for a bouquet of roses. She thought it was a good trade.

By and by, the old woman met a young prince who looked as sad as a rainy day.

“I go to meet my lady love,” said the young prince. “But I have no gift to show her how I truly value her.”

“Give you lady love these roses,” said the old woman. “And she will know.”

She traded the bouquet of roses for a gold farthing. What a good trade! At last she had enough money to buy her apples!

You may think the story might end here, for it seems like a happy ending. But it does not.

By and by, the old woman came to a young mother and her child, who stood with a big and furry dog. They were all frail from hunger.

How can I eat apply dumplings when my neighbors cannot eat at all? thought the old woman. And she said to the young mother,” I have need for a companion, and would ask for your help. May I trade this gold coin for your handsome dog?”

The young mother agreed. The old woman worried now, for how could she take care of a big and furry dog? Where would he sleep? What would he eat? Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice where she was walking.

“That’s one fine dog,” someone said. She looked up to see an old man rocking on his porch. His house sat in the shade of an old apple tree.

“That’s a fine apple tree,” she said.

Morguefile

“Apple trees are poor company to an old man who cannot bake,” he said. “But I’d trade all the apples you want for that fine fellow!”

The old woman traded the big and furry dog for a barrel of apples. She baked apple dumplings for her and her new friend. And that night, she enjoyed one of the finest apple dumplings she had ever baked.

Not The End.

My list of grateful things:

My daughter, who stands above any list.

For the wisdom of my friends. For working in a field where my heroes have become my friends. Including Eric and Marion, Monica and Emma, and Karen, and far too many that I do not have space enough to list. Thank you.

For the compassion, and love of my kindred spirits, like Cynthia, Carmela and The Teaching Authors, Rebecca and the Collective, Brian and the Snuggies; for soul sisters Jo and guiding lights Bonny and Bette. And many more. Thank you.

For apple dumplings.


If you like this tale, you might be interested in my book, One Fine Trade, illustrated by Will Hillenbrand (Holiday House, 2009).

You also might be interesting in this: Phyllis Korkki. “The Science of Older and Wiser,” New York Times , March 2014.

Don’t forget about the CWIM giveaway!

Bobbi Miller

Guest Teaching Author/Illustrator Interview and Another Book Giveaway!

We have another first today--our first Guest Teaching Author interview with a Teaching Author who is also an Illustrator: Elizabeth O. Dulemba!
 
We are pleased to be part of Elizabeth's blog tour for her first picture book as both author and illustrator, Soap, Soap, Soap ~ Jabón, Jabón, Jabón (available in bilingual and all-English versions) published by Raven Tree Press. See the end of this post for information on how to enter for a chance to win your own autographed copy!

Elizabeth is the award-winning illustrator of seven trade picture books. She speaks regularly at conferences, schools, and events, and once a year, she teaches "Creating Picture Books" at the John C. Campbell Folk School in North Carolina. She is the Illustrators' Coordinator for the Southern region of the Society of Children's book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) and is on the Board for the Georgia Center for the Book, where she is a strong advocate for the children's writing community.

Elizabeth, can you tell us how you became a Teaching Author/Illustrator?

I've always said if I wasn't a children's book author/illustrator, I'd be a teacher. One of my regrets in life is that I didn't stick around for an MFA in college--a degree which would have opened doors to teach in colleges and private schools. I still hope to achieve the degree someday. In the mean time, I have taught every chance I could through alternate means. I was a substitute teacher straight out of college; taught Beginning Drawing through the Chattanooga Arts Center in Tennessee; speak regularly at schools (grade school through adult), conferences and events; and teach 'Creating Picture Books' once a year at the John C. Campbell Folk School. I love to teach--it's a constant puzzle. Every student absorbs information differently and it's up to me to figure out how to relay that information in a way it will be best understood by each particular brain. It's a challenge that I adore.

What's a common problem/question that your students have and how do you address/answer it?

In line with what I mentioned above, if a student doesn't understand what I'm trying to relay, I have to approach the information differently--until I find the way that person learns best. Low attention spans can also be a challenge (even in adults!). I try to keep things dynamic to keep everybody engaged. (Full-time teachers must have amazing energy--I wish they could bottle it.) If I see I'm losing a student, I'll direct a question to him or her to pull them back in.

Would you share a favorite writing exercise for our readers?

Since I am an illustrator first, my exercise has a craft/visual element. I have students create a mini-book with a strip of paper--creating four panels with three folds. They divide the story they're working on into four categories, one for each of the four panels:
1) Introduce a problem, want, or desire
2) Present obstacles
3) Climax
4) Resolution
Even for adults, I pull out a box of markers and have them decorate their "mini-dummies." It's something fun to show, but it also helps them define the key components of their stories.

What a great exercise for picture book writers! Can you share how you were drawn to the writing side of picture book creation?

My journey into writing is an ironic one. I was identified as an artist at a very early age. So when the writing showed up a little later, it wasn't given much credence. After all, you only get 'One Thing,' right? However, my drawings were always illustrations of the stories filling my head, and I wrote in my drawing pads too--poems, stories, you name it. I kept a diary for years (volumes and volumes), but I never really knew I was a writer until I finally dove into my dream of creating picture books full time. My first attempts were pretty awful, but then I started getting comments like, "She can obviously write," or "She's a beautiful writer." Those meant so much to me. And even though my first picture book as both illustrator AND author is now out, I'm not sure I feel like a 'real' writer yet. I'm not sure what will do it.

It's kind of like with my illustrations. I was an in-house illustrator, making my living from my art for fifteen years. But I didn't feel like a 'real' illustrator until I traveled to New York for the SCBWI Portfolio Show at the Society of Illustrators. I joke that I circled the building seven times and pounded that New York pavement. After that trip, I finally felt like a bona fide illustrator.

Soap, Soap, Soap is a variation on a classic Appalachian Jack Tale. Can you tell us how you came to write this story?

I have long been a fan of the Jack Tales. Something about the Appalachians and the culture there has pulled at me my entire life. So when Raven Tree Press approached me to illustrate Paco and the Giant Chile Plant, a bilingual adaptation of "Jack and the Beanstalk," I jumped at it. Not only was it a Jack Tale, but it was my excuse to finally learn Spanish. (Raven Tree specializes in bilingual picture books.) Happily, Paco did very well for Raven Tree and they wanted another.

I presented Soap to my publishers when they were in town for IRA and they flipped over it. However, the new tale fit better in a modern day setting. So Paco became Hugo, and the old Chihuahuan desert became a small town in South Georgia. The rest will, I hope, be a very happy and successful journey. 

Do you have any suggestions for teachers on how they might use Soap, Soap, Soap in the classroom?

Yes! I've created an entire activity page on my Web site. It includes coloring sheets, puzzles, recipes, and other activities that can be used at home or in the classroom. 

I'm also thrilled to share that the Alliance Theatre's Teaching Artists program has picked up Soap as one of their main books this season. They focus on the basic concepts of getting muddy and getting clean. For instance, where can you get mud on you? Your elbows, your knees, etc. What does mud feel like and smell like? Once you've gotten muddy, how do you get clean? Do you take a bath and scrub? 

Teachers are using Soap to introduce hygiene in their classrooms. Anastasia Suen has also posted a mini-lesson tying the book to a related topic of hand-washing and learning to stay clean--an important topic in this Swine Flu season.

Along with these basic ideas, Soap can be used with my previous (illustrated) picture book, Paco and the Giant Chile Plant (written by Keith Polette) to discuss how folktales evolve over time. Both books are adaptations of classic Appalachian Jack Tales that were passed down by word of mouth from generation to generation, from Cornwall, England to the Chihuahua desert in Mexico. Playing "telephone" is a great way to discuss how stories change and evolve as they travel from teller to teller and how stories can become uniquely our own when we tell them our own way.

Elizabeth, thanks so much for taking time to talk with us today. And special thanks for providing an autographed copy of your book for our giveaway.  Readers who'd like to learn more about Elizabeth and her books can visit her Web site.

Instructions for entering our giveaway drawing are provided below. But first, you may want to watch the trailer for Soap, Soap, Soap ~ Jabón, Jabón, Jabón:


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Now, for the contest requirements:

To enter for a chance to win an autographed copy of Soap, Soap, Soap in your choice of a bilingual or all-English edition, you must post a comment giving us the title of one of your favorite folktales, and the reason behind your choice. To qualify, your entry must be posted by midnight, Wednesday, Sept. 30, 2009 (CST). The winner will be announced on Thursday, Oct. 1, 2009. Be sure to provide an email address where we can reach you! See this post for our complete giveaway guidelines.

We look forward to reading your comments. Good luck, everyone! And don't forget to watch for another book giveaway coming VERY soon.

Carmela