Fly Through My Window

Bluebird, bluebird, fly through my window
Bluebird, bluebird, fly through my window
Bluebird, bluebird, fly through my window
Oh, Johnny, I'm tired.

You'd be tired, too, if you cut out 30 felt birds. Tomorrow, the grownups will sing with the toddlers as each child brings a bird to up to the flannel board.* While I'm generally not a fan of using flannel boards or cutting out lots of little felt or paper animals** (yeah, I'm one of those curmudgeonly children's librarians), I can forsee using the birds for a number of other songs. I'd list them, but there are a lot. Just for starters, you can find good bird songs off of Elizabeth Mitchell's new album, You Are My Little Bird, including a longer version of the aforementioned "Fly Through My Window." I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have other animals for other songs, but as long as I'm in a small storytime room and not a large auditorium, I like to share my finger-puppets. I'll bet a lot of my city kids have seen cow puppets long before they've seen cows in pastures. This is as close as I've come to a porcupine. (Porcupines are soft and fluffy, right?)


*If there's no flannel board, the children are welcome to stick the birds to my sleeves.

**I taught myself origami just so I would have a craft to teach that didn't involve scissors, glue, glitter or googly-eyes.

Eat Your Dessert and Have Your Songs Too...

Next Thursday, I have a toddler storytime and a preschool storytime scheduled at a library just outside of the Seattle city limits. As far as preparation goes, this gig would be just like any other except that I will play the guitar. I plan to play one song for each storytime, though I will have some backup songs prepared. I'm a little nervous, because I'm still having problems with my D chord fingering. The way I play a D chord, I use my middle, ring and pinky fingers. There's not a whole lot of strength in the ring finger, but I'm attached to this fingering because it makes transitions to other chords much, much easier for me. Some of the songs that I am considering for performance are:

Bluebird Through My Window (with changes of colors and appropriate felt props): 2 chords
Join in the Game
(a.k.a. "Let Everyone Clap Hands Like Me"): 2 chords
I Had a Rooster: 3 chords
Tingalayo: 3 chords
Fooba Wooba John: 4 chords

I'd like to play songs that are familiar but not overdone. My Triumvirate of Mediocrity of songs is comprised of (1) "Old MacDonald," (2)"Eensy Weensy Spider," and (3)"The Wheels on the Bus." To be fair, I'm a fan of the spider and bus songs. However, it's a bit daunting when that's all anyone wants to sing. When someone requests all of those songs in one sitting, it's as if I showed up to make that person tiramisu from scratch, and all s/he wants is instant pudding out of a box. I'm not knocking instant pudding. Instant pudding is better than no pudding at all. Still, there's so much more to experience with tiramisu. And songs.

Um... may I have both, please?

Mitzi

I've started a blog for my storytelling gigs to have in place for the time when I am ready to be more than semi-professional. I say "semi" professional because I've gotten paid for storytelling gigs, I've trained as a storyteller in a public library setting, but for tax purposes, I'm still listed as a Home-Maker. That title smarts, because for all the lip-service paid to parenting, the title is still a euphemism for "non-wage earner."

I'm scared to market myself. I've had to come to terms with my childhood and teenage ambitions of greatness. I always assumed that I'd be a famous and successful writer, and that if I worked at the writing long and hard enough, the expected accolades would follow. High school writing classes were harsh wake-up calls, and my grades plummeted to C's. I had a hard time with criticism.

Now, I think I'm a pretty good writer, a pretty good storyteller, and I want to become even better over the years. Still, I don't have the drive to put my writing and storytelling above everything else. There are a lot of people my age and younger who are way more gifted than I am, and I'm fine with that. I really am. Most days. Some days I want to be the best at something that other people desire to do well, but it's fleeting. Most days, I want to be good enough.

What I really want is tell stories, sing songs and be a presence in the community. I want to be in demand for local library and school programs without being in competition with other storytellers and performers in the area. I want to put "Storyteller" in the spots on forms where it says to list my profession, and I don't want to cringe when I do it. I am scared that I don't have what it takes to market myself.

I'll do what I have always done, which is fake the confidence until it becomes real.
That brings me to my new blog, Mitzi. She drives the bus:

Mitzi Drives the Bus*
"Stories and songs for the long road ahead"

Link updated to reflect my storytelling website.

If you see a crocodile...

Today, I visited the Ballard farmer's market. I talked for a bit with an artisan selling her hand-made baby-clothes, wrap-around skirts and handbags. I didn't buy anything, but I told her that I had started sewing a year ago, and that I appreciated the pieces I saw. As I began to leave the stall, a woman came up to me, accompanied by her husband and young child.

"Excuse me," she said, "We were at one of your young toddler library storytimes. We are trying to remember the second verse of Row Row Row Your Boat. I know it has something to do with a waterfall and an alligator, and goes Eeek at the end. My son sings it in the bathtub all the time."

I told the woman, "You've just made my day." I wrote out the second verse for her:


Row row row your boat
Roughly down the stream,
If you see a crocodile
Don't forget to scream:
Aaaaaaahhhh!

I learned that verse from a friend in Scotland years ago. I didn't encounter the verse again until I looked up the Wikipedia entry, which has not only the crocodile verse, but even more alternates to make you shiver and laugh. Here is my own contribution for the family I met at the farmer's market:

Row, row, row your boat,
Down the waterfall
If you see an alligator
Throw a melon ball.

Yes, well, it's challenging to improve upon a classic.

Tippy-Top Secret Storytelling Formula

At the moment, I'm working on a presentation for an in-service program next Thursday at Lucia's school. What I've decided to do is to present my library storytime formula in as simple a format as possible, and demonstrate how I plug in different songs and stories.

A lot of people like to do storytimes with specific themes, i.e. “Farm Animals” or “Cars and Trucks.” I have found that when I do themes, I feel locked into reading stories that I don’t necessarily like (or rather, stories that I think are boring). I will often pair a story with a rhyme or song. Regarding transitions, I often take a cue from Monty Python, and say, “And now for something completely different…”

Here is the basic format:

Preamble: Secret warm-up rhyme or song that rewards the people who've come on time and makes the late-comers think that the storytime has already begun, without them actually missing the first story.

* Opening rhyme

*Warm-up rhyme or song

Before starting first story, remind everyone to silence their cell-phones. Every single time I forget to make this announcement, someone’s cell phone goes off.

*First Story (usually the longest book of the batch)

*Rhyme or song

*Second Story (usually another book, but could be a flannel board or puppet-play)

*Gross-motor activity/song: involves standing up or a lot of arm and leg action

*Calming down rhyme or song ("Eensy Weensy Spider" is great for this kind of activity)

*Third story (shortest book of the batch, or a very short oral tale)

*Closing Rhyme

For the younger audience members, I tend to share a lot more rhymes and songs than I do actual books compared to a lot of my colleagues. Books that are great for grown-up and child to share together one-on-one don't necessarily translate well to large audiences. Also, the larger the audience, the harder it will be for everyone to see the pictures in the books. I'm spoiled (but a little bit vain about it, too) in that I have to enjoy the book in order to share it with the audience in a storytime setting. Also, it's hard for people to sit still for a long time. No matter how much I may reminisce about the golden days that never were (when people had such long attention-spans that I could recite the entire book of Beowulf twice* before the children would begin to think of getting restless), I have to be pragmatic about what I'm dealing with now, today. If I can gain the trust of the audience in increments through a 5 week storytime series, then I can offer longer stories that stretch attention spans a bit.

Now you know my secrets. Thank you for joining me, and don't forget to get your hand rubber-stamped on your way out of the storytime room.



*I'm kidding.

What happens in storytime stays in storytime

“What happens in storytime stays in storytime.”*

Right: Matching shirts for Lucia and Alkelda from their (great) Aunt Brigid. Not pictured: Alkelda's shirt.

*Strictly speaking, this statement is not entirely true. Many of the funny, sweet, embarrassing, strange incidents that happen in the course of a storytime series may be combined, stretched and remolded into new tales to delight and shock. We keep your personal information confidential: where you live, the books you’ve checked out, the reference questions you’ve asked. Even if the courts of Cascadian law don’t recognize the Library Code of Ethics, your librarians do. In fact, any similarities to what you’ve experienced in the library and what you’ve read on this blog is entirely coincidental. However, there are two general, vague, non-specific things I’ve learned from doing storytimes over the past 9 years:

1) Answer all questions as if they are reasonable requests.

A rowdy third grade class had just finished listening to some stories. I opened the floor for questions or comments. One girl asked, “Are your pants on backwards?”

“No,” I replied.

Perhaps had I been in 3rd grade at the same time as the girl, I would have responded with something along the lines of, “Is your face on backwards?” and everyone my age would have thought I was funny. I have standards now. If someone is intentionally rude to me during storytime, I will scare the toenails off of everyone with my Gunniwolf roar. (Trust me, it’s terrifying. Also, it’s mainly the grownups who have nightmares afterwards.)

2) No one is immune from foolishness.

During an earthquake, everyone scooped up their children and ran for the doorframes, except for one parent, who ran out of the storytime room sans child. I was incredulous.

Three years later, I was in the grocery store with Lucia. I had just put my wallet on the counter when Lucia ran for the sliding doors. I began to run toward her, then stopped and looked back toward my wallet. In that instant, the cashier said, “Get her! I can guard your wallet, but I can’t guard your girl.”

I’m sure the cashier was incredulous, too.