Story Girl

It is true that I love to tell stories.  As a young girl from first through fifth grade I told stories competitively.  I happened to be pretty good at it too!  It was fun and I loved excelling...you could say that it caught on.  Those close enough to me know that I still love to tell a good story.

Those first years I competed in UIL storytelling which was a program created through the University of Texas.  Our family, destined to follow the flat lands and agriculture, relocated to Texas from the Mississippi Delta.  UIL was where I found my niche.  The program called for children to listen to a story told once and recreate it in their words and actions.  There were rules about how much one could move, how far off the storyline one could go, and so on.  I absolutely adored creating my stories in front of the judges.  The bigger they smiled, the harder they laughed, the more shocked they seemed, the greater the passion for storytelling grew.  Compare me to an auctioneer reading the audience if it helps with the visual.

With age, I graduated to UIL Oral Reading.  This competition was based on one's ability to present published poetry over a 6 minute period of time.  I would memorize the selection and reference the requisite binder held in one hand while gesturing with the other hand.  The poem that took me farther than any other was Roald Dahl's "The Anteater."  We had to change the main character in the poem to a girl named Pearl as opposed to a boy named Roy.  Hence one of my many nicknames, "my girl pearl."

Now, I imagine that you may think "what a funny thing for a child to do."  I also think it sounds odd and somewhat somber for a child's activity.  Storytelling was to me what T-ball was to most of the boys around.  I was coached, I practiced endlessly, I aimed to win, I earned my confidence, I advanced through levels and on we go.  Once I even twisted my ankle on the way to a competition causing it to swell to the size of a Texas grapefruit.  I still went to the competition and won.  I am guessing that this has something to do with my lack of sportiness and the fact that I still can not ride a bike...not the twisted ankle, the focus on mental gymnastics.  Note to you: when you say to me, "It's just like riding a bike"-that is a real downer.

My single worst memory in all of those years was of a time that a judge FELL ASLEEP as I recited my poem.  There has never been an angrier more disappointed little tyrant in all of the land!  How dare he.  I tried to wake him up by raising my voice, but to no avail he snored.  The best part of competing was that I got to go shopping for snappy outfits with Mama.  I still remember my favorite one: a brown suit jacket (pint-sized) with a polka dotted pleated skirt.  I do wonder how my parents managed to handle my inflated little personality?  Today I get to manage my own little handful, Emma Virginia.  From what I hear, she already exceeds my stamina as a fourth grader.  Condolences or congratulations?  You tell me!

My family eventually came back to the Delta, to our family, and to a place that is rich in stories.  Stories of the Delta are endless and far flung which is what makes it a most compelling place to live and love.  There are two published Delta storytellers that I would suggest you get to know: Gayden Metcalfe and Julia Reed.   Julia Reed pays homage to the Delta through her books and the many publications to which she contributes.  Gayden Metcalfe, who happens to be the Mother of one of my precious friends, hits the Delta trifecta on the head with The Pastel Trilogy which she wrote along with Charlotte Hayes. Visit http://www.thepasteltrilogy.com to get just a taste before purchasing copies of your own.  These women write beautifully no matter the topic.  Delta storytelling doesn't stop with literature, it runs far deeper through food, celebration, politics, family, religion, agriculture, and music.  Much like Faith, I can't seem to put reason to why the Delta is such a special place.  Since you can't depend on me, I give you Eudora Welty as she writes in "Delta Wedding."  "In the Delta, most of the world seemed sky.  The clouds were large-larger than horses or houses...The land was perfectly flat and level but it shimmered like the wing of a lighted dragonfly.  It seemed strummed, as though it were an instrument and something had touched it."  I can't imagine a more perfectly peaceful place.

Now I live in Tennessee where I find another culture, although different than my beloved Delta and the people that give it lifeblood, one that is rich in it's own right. I still love storytelling, but it has taken on a different light.  I tell stories as a fundraiser, as a mother, and as a friend.  I feel lucky to experience my friends and loved ones through the eyes of a storyteller.  I hope that it allows me to absorb another dimension in life.  To find the emotion, the humor, and the love in each day could only be a blessing.