For those of
you who, like me, enjoy visiting schools to share your work and/or to do
workshops, I thought you would like to know about a workshop/event/thingy that poet
Conrad Burdekin and I contrived a few years ago, which was great fun and which
I thought might make you wonder about staging similar events. I would be
interested to know about similar activities you may have carried out in schools.
Most importantly I wanted to share our
experiences as I think the children enjoyed our double-act and we helped
invigorate their creative writing.
As it
happens Con has a twin brother, and this gave us our starting point. We would
visit a class together and explain - or claim! - that we both had twin
brothers. Con’s imaginary twin was the evil ‘No Plot Person’ (boo!) who aimed
to visit schools and steal away the children’s imaginations. My ‘twin’ was the noble
‘Story Man’ (hurray!) who battled to prevent the nefarious acts of NPP and to
inspire their writing. We further explained our suspicions that NPP had infiltrated
the school and was at that very moment seeking out classes upon whom he could unleash
his imagination-stealing powers. Con volunteered to search the rest of the
school, while I helped the children create a protective imaginative forcefield
around first the class and then the school to hopefully defend the school from
the fiend and his evil plans. Con would then ‘go looking’ while I shared some
writing ideas, usually from my book Crazy Ideas (to stimulate creative
writing).
In reality,
Con was donning the hooded cape of the villain of the piece. His talented mum
(a former teacher) had made capes for us both. Con’s was an uninspiring brown
colour and sewn across the back were phrases such as ‘Dull’, ‘Boring’ and ‘can’t
fink of anyfing’. Mine was a bright shiny red adorned with phrases such as ‘Colourful’,
‘Enchanting’ and ‘Thrilling’.
Back in the
classroom, when Con had clearly had time to don his disguise, in mid-sentence I
would suddenly ‘remember’ that I hadn’t shared some vital information with him
and that he would now be in great danger! I implored the children to keep
thinking of imaginative ideas and then ran out of the class, screaming out warnings
to Con.
As the
sounds of my screaming died away Con would burst into the classroom, ‘disguised’
as NPP, gleefully declaring that he had discovered a group of children whose
imagination he could suck from their minds. Just as the children were reacting
to this horrifying news, Story Man (hurray!) would burst into the room loudly demanding
that NPP cease his evil activity, insisting that he would fail in any case as
he was sure that the children in the class had huge and lively imaginations
that couldn’t be sucked away though his villainy.
As Story Man
assures the children that he will help them defend themselves from the villain all
seems to be going well until NPP begins taunting Story Man claiming to be in
possession of one or more stories that are so incredibly boring they will blast
the children’s creativity to smithereens.
Weakened,
like Superman with a whiff of kryptonite, Story Man implores NPP not to read
his awful stories, expressing the hope that neither of them contains ‘the word
that begins with n… and ends with the word for frozen water’.
Invariably
the children worked out the word that I - I mean Story Man! - was referring to before
NPP began reading either or both of his stories, ‘The Boring Tortoise’ and ‘The
Nice Day’. In the case of the latter story, Story Man would writhe in agony
every time the relevant word was used (which was often) seemingly each time
losing more and more of his power, though, unnoticed by NPP, edging closer to
the whiteboard or flipchart. Just as all seemed lost and NPP contemptuously threw
the stories at Story Man our hero would exert the last of his strength to lift
a pen from its holder. ‘I have a Pen of Power’ he would declare, a hint of
strength returning to him.
NPP would
implore him not to use it, insisting, though sounding less sure of himself by
the second, that it would be of no use as the children wouldn’t be able to
think of any ideas to improve the awful stories. Story Man then begs the
children to suggest ideas, which he writes down using his ‘Pen of Power’,
gaining more strength with each idea. NPP meanwhile, though still weakly
insisting that Story Man’s plan will never work, edges towards the exit,
finally running away when there are too many good ideas being put forward.
Story Man
then asks to the children to start converting their ideas into stories,
explaining that this will finally ensure that NPP can be permanently ejected
from the school. SM then explains that he will visit the other classes to make
sure that NPP hasn’t sneaked there instead.
Shortly
after ‘SM’ exited, Con hurriedly returned as himself, supposedly wanting to
report back to me and the class that he hadn’t been able to locate NPP. Just as
Con was beginning to ask the children what’d been going on, I also returned,
still crying out warnings to Con. ‘Relieved’ to have found Con safe and well I
also asked the children what had been happening while we were absent, initially
as incredulous as Con that the children had been able to repel the foul NPP
from the classroom until they explained the while series of events to us and
drew our attention to the list of ideas SM had written down using his ‘Pen of
Power’. We would then compliment the children on being able to thwart the evil
NPP with Story Man’s help and volunteered to help them with their stories.
Con has a
real gift in helping children create poetry, so he would often work with a
group converting their stories into a poem format that the group would then
share at the end of the session and some of the children I worked with who
would read their stories.
~~~~~~
One of the most
charming aspects of the whole performance, particularly as we thought it might
be where we would be called out, was the way in which the children explained
back to us the events that occurred while ‘we’ were away and ‘NPP’ and ‘SM’ had
been in the room, even when some of the children were suspicious that it had
really been us. Just the capes and our ham acting seemed to allow them to
‘suspend their disbelief’.
Of course
things didn’t always go to plan. I brought the capes we donned for our
performance in a pilot’s case that had padlocks which were locked using a numerical
code. During our first ‘performance’ after Con had left the classroom he
realised that he didn’t know or had forgotten the code. To my amazement, while reading
to the children, he returned to the classroom – I thought he’d forgotten the
format of our piece – and he had to explain, ironically in a coded manner, that
he didn’t have the code for the locks! So I had to excuse myself, while Con
took over for a bit, so I could unlock the case.
The capes
were very warm and when I mentioned I was going to write about our experiences
Con reminded me of a class we visited on a lovely spring afternoon. Despite the
good weather the teacher insisted on keeping the windows closed and after we’d left
the room dressed as superheroes, we both had to drink gallons of water before
we collapsed with heat stroke! As I left the classroom after Con he had kindly
already found a drink for me, knowing I would need it.
As is often
the case with normal school visits, not everyone is told we’re coming.* The
same applied to a mother who had volunteered to listen to children reading.
Just when we were at the climax of our battle over the children’s minds she walked
through the door. Inevitably we all turned towards the disturbance, the action
suspended in mid-sentence. Bless her, the poor woman took quite a long time to
process the fact that something unusual was going on and verbalised her
cogitations. ‘I’ve come to hear Aaron read,’ she explained. ‘But there seems to
be something going on,’ she continued. Con and I widened our eyes and nodded
slightly trying to urge on her thinking. ‘This is probably not a good time to
listen to Aaron,’ she suggested. ‘I’ll come back later… I hope I haven’t
spoiled anything…’ Finally, she left. For a couple of moments there was silence,
as though we were all rebooting and then battle recommenced.
In one
school we agreed to visit the reception class but as they were so young we agreed
with the teacher to just pop in for a while, wearing our costumes and talk to
the children. However even this diluted version of our act was too much for a
couple of the boys and as soon as we walked in the room they burst out crying
and were inconsolable until we left!
I don’t
remember it especially but Con recalls a class where I was asking the children
their names before hearing their ideas and it seemed as though every girl in
the class was called Chelsea. Apparently, I started making a joke about it,
guessing the names of the other girls before asking them. As the school was
likely in Barnsley we were a long way from Stamford Bridge!
~~~~~~
Just one
extra snippet, which I can’t see an excuse to share with you otherwise. Several
years later I used my cape – turned inside out to hide the words, it was shiny
on both sides – at a fair pretending to be a lady fortune teller. I called
myself ‘Mystical Megan’ or something like that. I also wore a veil and similar
paraphernalia. Most people knew I was having a bit of fun, particularly when I
explained that my crystal ball was rebooting after an update and so I had to
use my psychic Rubik’s Cube (backed up by my Asterix cards.) However when I
suggested to one lady that the spirits were telling me that she was having
problems with her dishwasher, she insisted that I might have ‘the gift’.
Perhaps I do
have superpowers after all… or maybe it’s the cape…
~~~~~
*This seems
to be obligatory if you are using a room that someone else is likely to book or
the room the dinner staff wish to invade half an hour before you’ve finished.
~~~~~
Con’s
website is www.conradburdekin.com
Mine is www.steveway.org
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