I’ve had a lovely day: talking about how life and being in it can make a difference. I am very lucky. My work makes a difference and I know that. I see it daily and weekly.
But of course, in the whole scheme of things, everybody’s existence, work and life makes a difference. I spent the morning with my friend Paddy; he is a builder and has lived around Shropshire all of his life. We spoke of the houses that he has helped build. I asked him to take me for a drive and show me his work. We passed buildings both grand and small; he remembered them all; from the first he’d worked on as a fifteen year old lad to the one he is currently building now. His voice echoed pride as he talked and this made me smile inside and out. His life is etched out in the towns and his legacy will live long after he is gone.
Inside those houses that he has built live families, those families have dreams and ambitions and each single one of them no doubt makes a difference both to each other and the world in which they live.
When I got home I started to remember my journey; the journey of my life; I had a teacher when I was ten years old, called Miss Fennimore; she wasn’t a class teacher, rather a teacher for children that were not getting on; they used to call us remedial, thankfully a name which no longer exists, I was rubbish at school. I have severe dyslexia, (ironic for someone who loves writing and words), this was not picked up on at primary or secondary school. The only thing I excelled in was drama and Miss Fennimore spotted this, saw a spark. She encouraged me to audition for parts in school plays and made a special deal with a holiday scheme to take me on for a reduced fee. I excelled and finally found something which I could do well and this allowed me to grow in confidence and stature, and through this one thing I could, eventually, albeit rather later in life than some, go to university and succeed.
Thirty years later I saw Miss Fennimore in the street of my home town. I approached her and thanked her for that belief, thanked her for giving me the chance and the confidence to do something special and thus changing my life, standing there in the cold November rain she was so moved she began to cry.
Storytelling has changed my life; and my journey to become a storyteller was one filled with people who believed in my talent and the way I can do things. I won’t name them all here, but people like Taffy Thomas, Peter Chand, Mike Rust and Allan Walters and friends like Steve and George who simply enjoy listening to my tales and poems have done nothing but encourage me and give me good advice. Peter gave me terrific breaks, allowing me to perform at Festival at the Edge and showing me the way forward in business and marketing, thus again allowing me to grow in confidence. The Storytelling world is full of these types of people who are more than happy to share their good advice and practice to help you; this is unlike my experiences with the world of acting where it seems the practice is all about getting work whoever you have to climb over.
In November I did a small performance for one of my favourite storytellers and another very generous person, Shonaleigh; it was called The Beacons project in Sheffield. The beginning of this started with a procession; Shonaleigh, followed by men with blazing fire torches followed closely by a long, long line of children and their parents and grandparents. It was a true community project and people were laughing and smiling together, celebrating their own and each other’s existence and difference. As they passed me I remember seeing the sparkle in their eyes, the magic of fire and stories combined and it is an image that will stay with me forever. I am lucky to be doing Shonaleigh’s course in November and am really excited about how it may change me as a person as well as a storyteller.
Last Saturday I got a phone call from a parent. I had worked with her daughter in primary school where I wrote and directed a primary school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Her daughter was appearing in a play at her new secondary school and really wanted me to go. Of course I went and last night the young lady was a fantastic success. After the show she rushed up to me, full of the excitement of an opening night performance. “What did you think?” “Was I good?” I told her she was brilliant and I was a very proud man! It was to my delight to see five different students who I have worked with in the production.
After the show the girl’s mother thanked me for my “belief” in the car park on a cold January evening, I knew exactly how Miss Fennimore had felt, and I too was so moved tears began to sting my eyes.
The reason for this blog today is simple; if you have children or work with young people or even know the neighbours kids; enthuse them with what they do well: be it acting, building making or simply playing. It is sometimes easy in this constantly critical world to pick and pull up on negative points; but it is the positives we gain the most from, the positives which allow us to grow as individuals and allow us to go out into the world to make our own differences. We as people, as parents, as friends can help that process roll just by picking and choosing the right things we say and do.
