Try That Response

I had done it. I had not only presented the poem, but had ‘entertained’ the class. It didn’t matter to me suddenly, if I was clever or not. I was more importantly, feeling happy. Really happy. I have been told it is one of the rarest of moments. True happiness. That very instance in my personal history, being before a group of people had changed my entire feeling. Even more than the reading I had done in church when just six (see blog Saturday 1^st December 2012) this was a major moment in my life. I can actually link this to much of what I have since done. In fact, it indicated something possible in my future direction, behaviour and attitude. I was aware of Mr Walsh smiling and regaining control on a classroom that had really got into it. I felt great. I had enjoyed the reaction from the class. I had actually ‘fed’ on the response. This was definitely an indication of that future direction. I could suddenly see me performing again before other people. One clear effect was, apart from thoroughly enjoying it, was not having to be me. I could pretend to be someone else and ‘hide’ behind the persona.

I had discovered there was definitely something in the idea of stepping away from the ‘me’. I had never felt more comfortable with these students than I did at the end of the poem. There was a certain respect from. The potential sneers I had anticipated when I set out to deliver the poem, had disappeared into grins and laughter as I acted the tale. I had, I realised never felt more comfortable in general, than I did as ‘the storyteller’. I had not simply been reciting a poem, I had acted it out, as a diverse range of ‘characters’ and I had become them all, briefly. The child, the car, the mother, teacher and narrator.  It was really exciting. I had found an outlet that I would need to explore again.

Meanwhile the class had settled down, Beaming happily, at everyone in my joy, I made my way back to my seat, acknowledging the various nods from several of the students. One or two even patted (pushed) me on the back as I made my way down the aisle. It felt good. Actually it felt great. I sat down and looked around at my fellow students. Gathering all the accolades I could before we heard from the next person. Then Mr Walsh made a decision. “I think that’s all we’ll have today for show and tell”. There was a slightly angry “What?” from just behind me. “We have to get on with the lessons” Mr Walsh continued. I glanced around to look straight at the face of Stephen. One of the ‘larger’ students in the class. He played junior rugby and looked like it. In fact he looked like half the ‘scrum pack’ (the scrum in rugby union is usually formed by up to eight players, so you get the idea as to how large this lad actually was?) And he didn’t look too happy. He didn’t look too happy… straight at me.

(Continued tomorrow)