Illustration by A.B. Frost |
And it didn’t end with the story.
After receiving accolades from her class, the teacher began the lesson she had
designed to follow the telling, a lesson that incorporated aspects of the fifth
grade literature, writing, and social studies curricula. Students discussed the
story with their teacher, and then with each other in small groups. Each group
talked and wrote about some aspect of the story. How did the story motifs and
archetypes compare or contrast to those in other Trickster tales? Why was
Trickster such an important character in African American slave stories? What
is Trickster’s power?
During the next period of the day,
a sixth grade history teacher leaned comfortably against her desk to tell her
students the myth of Sedna, the Inuit goddess of the Underworld. Her movements
were sparse, her voice expressive, but calm. Her style of telling was
completely different but that of her fifth grade colleague, but again, the
telling was flawless. Students sat motionless. Every eye was on their teacher
teller. At the terrifying climax of the tale, it seemed as if every breath was
suspended, then exhaled in concert as Sedna settled at the bottom of the sea to
rule her new kingdom. This lesson also ended with an activity that was designed
to both extend the story and address the teacher’s other instructional
objectives.
Similar scenes were played out
that day in kindergarten and fourth grade classrooms where teachers were using
oral storytelling to enrich student learning. The lessons were part of a
project funded by the Countess Moira Foundation and designed and implemented by
Storytelling Arts artists. In early December, Julie Dellatorre and I began
teaching and mentoring a group of elementary school teachers who had been
selected by their principal to pilot a program designed to teach them to use
oral storytelling and traditional tales to deepen student learning.
On the day we first met them, some
of these teachers were apprehensive about the amount of time the project might
take from their other teaching responsibilities. We assured them that they
would be able to use what we were teaching to help them meet their
instructional objectives, and then we told them stories. Julie began with Young Kate by Eleanor Farjeon. When the
story ended, there was a moment of silence followed by a rush of conversation. The
teachers were hooked. As the project progressed, their enthusiasm did not wane.
They learned to tell stories, selected stories, and embedded storytelling in
their lesson plans. For me, the project produced a perfect collaboration
between teaching artist and classroom teachers. We taught and learned from each
other and, as in all good collaborations, the whole was much more than the
parts. I found myself delving more deeply into the stories I was researching
and learning. The experience has improved my own telling in all of the
workshops I’ve been teaching this winter.
So, what made this project work? I
have been involved in many residencies that were designed and taught by good
teachers and artists, and although they have all been successful on some level,
I don’t think that they have given me the sense of accomplishment I feel in
this project. That’s not to say we haven’t had faced obstacles. The project
site shares the problems of many urban schools: low student performance,
conflicting and confusing top-down mandates to building administrators and teachers,
and the ever-present pressure imposed by the status of standardized student
assessments. Then there was the weather. Most of our workshops were scheduled
during the deep freeze that has ushered in this new year. Two or three days
were postponed because of snow, and because of this, the two culminating events
of the project have yet to be rescheduled. But in spite of these frustrations,
my spirits are high.
I think that the two most
important factor in this project’s success were the understanding of our
funders that successful arts education programs take time, and the willingness
of the school administrator to arrange a schedule that gave us adequate time
for teacher education in and out of the classroom. The main goal of this project
was professional development: giving teachers the skills necessary to be
successful teacher tellers. To accomplish this, we planned teacher workshops at
the beginning, middle, and end of the residency. In between teacher workshops,
Julie and I worked with the teachers for fifteen days in their classrooms.
Teacher workshops and classroom lessons were designed to scaffold teacher
education. In the first five student workshops, Julie and I modeled our craft,
in the second five, we collaborated with teachers to plan and implement
workshops, and in the last five, classroom teachers did most of the telling and
all of the planning. The final – yet to be accomplished – activity will be a
day of fishbowl lessons modeled by our focus teachers for their colleagues who
were not involved in the project. The model lessons will be supplemented by a
professional development workshop taught by Storytelling Arts artists, Julie
Pasqual and Gerald Fierst.
Although the two factors mentioned
above may be most important in this project’s success, there are other things
that made it strong. They are, in two words, collaboration and communication: involvement
of more than one artist and collaboration between teaching artists through
every stage of the process, from initial planning to the final assessment;
ongoing communication between the arts organization administrator, the school
administrator, and the artists; thoughtful selection of participating teachers
by the school administrator; and true collaboration between classroom teachers
and teaching artists.
Also, the ultimate success of a
project like this takes years. During this first year, Julie and I have learned
things about the school culture that will help us improve a second year
program. Then, as every storyteller knows, it takes three times to get it
perfect. I have my fingers crossed.