Response
As I have watched person after person tell their stories at the convention this week, I am reminded of the power of words and the power of response to words as well. These brave people, especially the women, have told stories about incredible loss and have done so without recrimination and finger pointing. Instead they have talked about the need for more love, more love, more love.
Stories, all our stories, have that power--the power to shape and transform our lives. And so we who know the power of words and stories continue to work passionately for real books in our classrooms. As I was putting the finishing touches on a master's seminar this week, Karin Perry and I were brainstorming all manner of stories. What new twist could we take to make sure our students, who wish to become school librarians and in some cases already are, would have the widest knowledge of literature to share with their students? How could we elicit response in a meaningful ways that would still be true to the work of Rosenblatt? How could we balance the demands of our own curriculum with the need for CHOICE?
Thankfully, Karin and I had lots of time together in cars and hotel rooms. We believe we have fashioned something new, something that underscores the power of words and stories. We will implement the new ideas this semester and then, as always, tweak them endlessly until we have found the perfect approach, the perfect combination of stories, the perfect response strategies.
So as I watch this evening of heartfelt stories, I weep, I laugh, I wince. But I celebrate the stories that are told, the voices of the brave individuals who talk about their losses but still move on through their grief to build something, something greater than themselves. Words have power. Stories have power. Let us share them.
Stories, all our stories, have that power--the power to shape and transform our lives. And so we who know the power of words and stories continue to work passionately for real books in our classrooms. As I was putting the finishing touches on a master's seminar this week, Karin Perry and I were brainstorming all manner of stories. What new twist could we take to make sure our students, who wish to become school librarians and in some cases already are, would have the widest knowledge of literature to share with their students? How could we elicit response in a meaningful ways that would still be true to the work of Rosenblatt? How could we balance the demands of our own curriculum with the need for CHOICE?
Thankfully, Karin and I had lots of time together in cars and hotel rooms. We believe we have fashioned something new, something that underscores the power of words and stories. We will implement the new ideas this semester and then, as always, tweak them endlessly until we have found the perfect approach, the perfect combination of stories, the perfect response strategies.
So as I watch this evening of heartfelt stories, I weep, I laugh, I wince. But I celebrate the stories that are told, the voices of the brave individuals who talk about their losses but still move on through their grief to build something, something greater than themselves. Words have power. Stories have power. Let us share them.