Where are my words? Feels like I’ve used more than my quota for today.
This morning, I was a teller at Jackson Storyfest, one of my favorite places on the planet. Tellers are brought in to share stories with over 13,000 students over a three-day period.
In prior years, kids would be bussed into downtown Jackson. The whole downtown area would be flooded with kids hopping from place to place to hear different tellers. Recently, school budget cuts have changed the format of the festival – but not its spirit. Now, tellers bring their stories directly to schools.
Each year that I come, I go through the same pattern:
2-4 weeks before Storyfest: Get excited, cobble together new stories, polish off old ones
1 week: Tell anyone who will listen how excited I am
2 days: Develop my set list and freak out about what I’ll wear
1 day: Throw everything in the suitcase and hope for the best, drive to Michigan and gear up for a great time.
Each year, the kids are both different and the same. Each school has its own culture. But they all respond to and appreciate storytelling in the same ways.
How amazing it is to see these kids growing up on story. What a charge it is to share their energy, and to bring them experiences and ideas they might not have exposure to otherwise.
As for me, I am proud to be a part of it.
Snip, snap, snout…
This tale’s all told out.