(no subject)
The kids are writing a story about their favorite Halloween memory - which shouldn't be all that difficult as they are only about 8 and at most remember maybe 4 or 5 Halloweens. After hearing several of their stories, I remembered that I was supposed to write an example for them and I'd forgotten. They need to have an idea of what they are going for - they aren't born with an innate sense that stories should be told beginning, middle, and end. They like to mix the three in each paragraph. When they remember to write paragraphs instead of a long rambling incoherent mess. Hmm... that doesn't sound very sympathetic. They do try, bless them. It just doesn't always work.
When I write sample stories for them, I try to remember what life was like at the time I was their age. 50 years ago - right, sure, I remember it like it was yesterday. I don't remember many Halloweens as a kid, but what I remembered was a pink ballerina costume my mom had made me, trick or treating around the neighborhood with brothers and my best friend and her sisters who lived a couple blocks away. We knew everyone in the neighborhood, and the fun was not so much in the candy as it was in the surprising of the neighbors with the glory of our costumes. The other memory I have was my dad who decided that "trick or treat" meant that you had to do a trick in order to get a treat. At the time, this was a massive embarrassment, but with the 20/20 vision of hindsight, I see that what he was trying to do was to establish a connection with people. It wasn't just about ringing the doorbell and getting a handout. It was a chance to meet and cherish, however briefly, the talents of the visitors at the door once a year. I conflated the two memories to write the story. The kids will never know, and it made a better story.
My other memory is of dad organizing the neighborhood to have a collection for UNICEF on Hallowe'en. He notified the neighbors in advance, and enlisted their help. When we went out, we collected nickels and dimes (worth more then) instead of candy, and then turned them in at a party at our place. We kind of missed the candy, but it felt good to know we were helping other kids who needed the money more than we needed the candy. I left that memory out - the kids wouldn't have understood.
After I read my story to the kids, they asked questions, and I told them that Dad had died in 1998, before I became a teacher. I had truly not thought of it, but I'll bet if he were still alive, he'd be volunteering in my classroom, reading to the kids, solving the minor battles that go on and on in any elementary class. He'd have made S. feel cherished, and perhaps she'd be more cooperative. R. might have become less combative and prone to melt-downs. I could totally imaging him wanting to help. One of my students lost his dad to cancer last year. He's a super kid, but tends to be way more social than is good for his academic work. I could see him really tuned in while I was talking about dad.
Ahh, Dad, I miss you so much!
When I write sample stories for them, I try to remember what life was like at the time I was their age. 50 years ago - right, sure, I remember it like it was yesterday. I don't remember many Halloweens as a kid, but what I remembered was a pink ballerina costume my mom had made me, trick or treating around the neighborhood with brothers and my best friend and her sisters who lived a couple blocks away. We knew everyone in the neighborhood, and the fun was not so much in the candy as it was in the surprising of the neighbors with the glory of our costumes. The other memory I have was my dad who decided that "trick or treat" meant that you had to do a trick in order to get a treat. At the time, this was a massive embarrassment, but with the 20/20 vision of hindsight, I see that what he was trying to do was to establish a connection with people. It wasn't just about ringing the doorbell and getting a handout. It was a chance to meet and cherish, however briefly, the talents of the visitors at the door once a year. I conflated the two memories to write the story. The kids will never know, and it made a better story.
My other memory is of dad organizing the neighborhood to have a collection for UNICEF on Hallowe'en. He notified the neighbors in advance, and enlisted their help. When we went out, we collected nickels and dimes (worth more then) instead of candy, and then turned them in at a party at our place. We kind of missed the candy, but it felt good to know we were helping other kids who needed the money more than we needed the candy. I left that memory out - the kids wouldn't have understood.
After I read my story to the kids, they asked questions, and I told them that Dad had died in 1998, before I became a teacher. I had truly not thought of it, but I'll bet if he were still alive, he'd be volunteering in my classroom, reading to the kids, solving the minor battles that go on and on in any elementary class. He'd have made S. feel cherished, and perhaps she'd be more cooperative. R. might have become less combative and prone to melt-downs. I could totally imaging him wanting to help. One of my students lost his dad to cancer last year. He's a super kid, but tends to be way more social than is good for his academic work. I could see him really tuned in while I was talking about dad.
Ahh, Dad, I miss you so much!