I knew the importance of reading to students also, so I made sure that part of every day was spent reading aloud from some piece of literature. Storytelling was not something that I was familiar with or did consciously. I did set up as part of my curriculum “30 Second Speeches”. Students on a scheduled basis throughout the year had to get up in front of the class and speak on a topic of their choosing for at least 30 seconds. In hindsight what I was unknowingly doing was allowing students to tell stories.

In 1981, Jerry Silverstein, a fellow teacher, was producing a musical play,  “Hans Christian Andersen,” for the Middle School that I had taught in. For those of you that remember, this musical was based on the movie starring Danny Kaye. Jerry asked me if I wanted to play the part of Hans Christian Andersen. I loved the movie and all of the songs that were in it. Up until that moment I had never been in a play my entire life. I agreed and spent many hours with Middle School students and fellow teachers getting ready to perform. Now as part of my role, I had to tell stories. Most of them went into song, such as “The Ugly Duckling,”  “ The Emperor’s New Clothes,” and “Thumbelina”. I was starting to get into this storytelling thing.

The day of the first performance came on March13th and it was wonderful. I had never experienced speaking in front of an audience so large that listened and were interested in what I was saying.  Even though my lines were scripted, as were the other actors and actresses in the play, I was still amazed at the power in the story.  All the performances went well. My sister and her family that attended one of the performances sent flowers up to me on the stage, during the curtain call, which I politely refused, not thinking that anyone would possibly send me flowers.

I was now hooked on storytelling. I spent all the following summer reading up on the art of storytelling. I found out about the group NAPPS (National Association for the Preservation and Perpetuation of Storytelling) and became a member. In October, I convinced my school district to send me to the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, TN. Similar to what the Philly Folk Festival did to me with singing and folk music, the National Storytelling Festival expanded my horizons to storytelling.

On my return, storytelling became a natural part of my teaching in addition to my singing. I alternated my reading to students with telling stories to them. I started with “Jack Tales” and went from there. You can read more about that in one of my first Blog entries, “The Power of Telling“. I even got my first paid gig at my local library that Halloween. But that is a different story, which I might share some other time.

I married a woman from Iowa. She was very sensitive to things that were loud. She enjoyed quiet evenings in quiet places, which might have had some influence why she doesn’t like to go to movies. I grew up in New York right next to a subway train yard, loud radiators, in an apartment that had street sounds and light flashes all the time. My wife and I settled in a suburb in Long Island. The longer that we lived together the more used to quiet I became. Then we had my son. He grew up with a sensory integration issues. Too much stimulation, especially noise, made it difficult for him to do things. Hence there was even more quiet. The more used to quieter things I became, the more sensitive I was to louder sounds.

That does not mean that I lived in silence. I always liked to hear things. While driving I always have the radio or podcasts playing, usually with spoken material rather than music. My family likes to ride in silence. My wife still complains that I leave the radio in the car on at a level that is very loud and is not surprised that my hearing has been affected. Though I am more sensitive than I was, you can see our audio levels of acceptance still differ.

It appears to me that society itself has changed what it considers an acceptable level of sound. When I was a beginner teacher and wanted to give my class a chance to work yet have the opportunity to talk while working, I would tell them to remember to use their “Restaurant voices”.  Now for me, that meant you could talk just slightly above a whisper, just like your family would do in a restaurant. It worked well and was a good analogy to use that students could relate to. To ask them to whisper was unreasonable or to speak low without a frame of reference didn’t work either. The “Restaurant voice” was perfect.

This analogy would not work today. Have you ever been in restaurant lately? Each table it seems is trying to outdo the table that is three tables away from them. There is little consideration for anyone else in the restaurant. My family continues to talk in “our restaurant voices”, but to be heard, we generally have to lean very close to the person we’re talking to to be heard. We generally choose not to speak louder. I’ve tried other analogies. Even if I suggested use your “Library voice” I don’t think I would get the same response today that I got years ago. When I grew up you would be Shhed! even if you whispered in a group while you were at the library. Today, it takes a lot more than that to have a librarian ask you to be quiet.

The last alternative that I said to my classes, which still should work, was “use your 6-inch voice” (speak at such a volume that you can only be heard by someone 6 inches away). Sometimes if I was in a good mood I would allow 12-inch voices.

Speaking voice adds the quality of hearing. My family has told me that I mumble a lot, which is why I’m not understood and that I talk too loud, as if I’m performing so they can’t understand me. As the speaker, that is hard to comprehend, since I hear myself perfectly. There is also the issue of multi-tasking activities and location that I’ve found impacts hearing. It is amazing how much my wife and son cannot hear what I’m saying when they are reading or otherwise occupied. Not to mention trying to understand what someone is saying on the other side of a wall or from another room. Then again, I don’t hear them either when I’m doing the same things.  The only difficulty I have with this is that when they are talking to me and I can’t understand them, I tend to ask them to speak louder or repeat what they said. When it is the other way around, they usually don’t realize that I’m even speaking to them.  But that is another issue, not necessarily a hearing one.

As an aside, I’m thinking of using the “6-inch” voice idea when I do some of my family concerts. If I can’t get the adults to sit with their children where they are generally quiet and responsive I’ll give them the option to leave or speak in a 6-inch voice, maybe I can get across to them that what they do, when they talk in groups, interferes with my program. But that is not a hearing issue, it is one of respect, which I’ve written about before http://hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=64.

As to my hearing. I’m sure it won’t get better. I’ll just keep plodding along listening as best I can and do my best to read lips while people are talking to me. Eventually I’ll need a hearing aid like my mother had, hopefully one that doesn’t whistle so loud. And some day maybe scientists will develop a form of mental telepathy, so that I can speak and hear directly to and from the minds I’m communicating with. I’ll try not to mumble then. You never know.

For some it is just a shortening of your name. Jonathan becomes John, Christina becomes Tina, Elizabeth becomes Beth or Liz, etc.  For others it is a true nickname.  George Herman Ruth became the Babe, Doctor Leonard McCoy became Bones, Djeliba Baba becomes Baba the Storyteller, to name a few.

When I generally interact with people I shorten everyone’s first name, I refer to my son David as D, my niece Alison as Ali, Michael – Mike, Rachel – Rache. My name shortened would be Harv and no one refers to me as that. My first name does not lend itself to many options. With a given name like Harvey, most people call me Harvey.

I have been given different nicknames throughout my life.

Nicknames began for me in high school. In 11^th grade I had a chemistry teacher, Mr. Rose, that liked to make fun of certain students. Unfortunately I was one of them. My father had his own import business. He imported little tshatshkis from France. The name of is company was Walter de Paris. He had lots of stationery and envelopes which included his company name. As luck would have it, I used one of his pieces of stationery to write my chemistry homework on.  When my Mr. Rose, saw the letterhead, I became Harve from LeHavre whenever he felt like making fun of me. Lucky for me the rest of the students were not impressed with the name (Probably because it didn’t make sense to them (they never heard of LeHavre, France)) so the nickname didn’t stick.

When I got to college I decided to create my own nickname. It seemed that all my friends always dumped stuff on me, whether it be work, responsibilities, or putdowns. So I created the name Herbie D. Dump. The only difficulty with this nickname was that I was the only one using it.

As my nieces and nephews grew up, I again gained another nickname. I was Uncle Itch. I can’t remember who actually started this one. It might have been a mispronunciation of Uncle H that just stuck or someone used it because they thought the things I did were funny. But I’ve kept it. I’ve even used this one to work into some of the stories I tell. Now that my nieces have children of their own and I’ve become a Grand Uncle, I’m trying to get the nickname Grunkle Itch for their kids, which is hard since my nieces still only refer to me as Uncle.

As a teacher my classes mostly referred to me as Mr. Heilbrun. When I went into other classes for short-term visits, students were given the opportunity to call me Mr. H. I responded to either. It was more difficult when there was more than one teacher in the school called Mr. H., which only happened for a short period of time in one school I worked in. Luckily there weren’t many male elementary school teachers with last names beginning with H. In one school I worked in, the principal banned the use of initials to refer to any employee. He felt that students could show respect by taking the time to learn a person’s real name, no matter how hard it was to pronounce.

One teacher of the Learning Disabled always used to refer to me as Mr. Harvey. That was okay too.

As a storyteller, I’m not sure what to call myself. Mr. Heilbrun sounds very formal. Harvey Heilbrun leaves people that listen to me in a quandary as to what to call me. Maybe it would be simpler if I had a show name like Uncle Itch. For now I’ll stick with whatever the hosts of the events I perform in wish to introduce me as. I give them my name as Harvey Heilbrun and let them choose the formal/informal way it should be addressed. I will respond to anything that is not meant as a taunt. Anyone else with any suggestions feel free to share. I’m always looking for ways to make a name for myself.

My wife and son are strong believers in these thoughts. They credit the obsession with technology for increasing divorces, having less solid friendships and basically a decline in our society. Where I believe that all this technology is causing a disconnect between individuals, I cannot quite believe that it is the decline of our society. I’d like to think of it as the evolution of our society. Now understand that these opinions are all coming from someone who has become somewhat immersed in technology, where my wife and son have not.

When radio came into being, it brought families together. Families would gather around their radios to listen to programs of music, news and story. Television initially had a similar impact. Families would gather around those black and white TVs to watch whatever was programmed. A piece of this was due to the limited number of stations that one could listen to and in the case of TV the limited number of hours programs were on the air. I remember when stations would sign-off and the test pattern came on the screen.

But things changed as more and more programs came onto the scene. Now families began to individualize their watching/listening habits. Kids could watch kid programs and adults could watch adult programs.  Sports-minded people watched their teams play, while Soap Operas filled the needs of those looking to daily drama.  People could disassociate themselves with each other to do their own thing. There was less family time watching. Where I used to love Million Dollar Movie, where the same movie was shown 3 times a day, 5 days a week.  Others in my home were usually satisfied with one showing. Did this impact family life and interpersonal connectiveness? Not having grown up in a time before radio, I don’t have the experience of what it was like then. Intuitively I would have to say yes there was more of a disconnect. Were their more divorces, less solid friendships, etc.? There must be research out there to dispute or back that up.

Now we move onto the computer and technology. I will not dispute that it has continued the trend that was begun in the start of this technology age.

In one sense I am less connected due to the time I spend on the computer. (see http://hdhstory.net/Storyblog/?p=188) My wife and son, though they use the computer, do not use it to my extent. (though my son spends a large chunk of his time on his video game systems.) On a similar note some interests (non-technical) in my family bring disconnect. My wife and son are not as interested in sports (specifically hockey, soccer and baseball) as I am. Science Fiction and Fantasy are another non-shared interest.  Despite all of that, we still spend time with each other, care for each other, take walks, go on trips, watch some TV shows as a family, certainly eat and communicate with each other.

My disconnectedness does not make my family any less solid than others. When I’m needed to be there, I am. When given the choice between family and technology, for the most part I choose family.  On the other hand what technology has allowed me to do is become more connected outside of my family with my extended family and others of my profession. I interact more with my older sister, who lives in Austin, now that we can Skype each other. Through Facebook and the Storytell Listserv, I am more connected with fellow storytellers. So when I do meet them face to face, which I hope will happen, we will know each other, beyond the superficial, which would be the case without these connections. Will these friendships be the same as the solid friendships of my youth? No they won’t. My father used to always tell me that I had no friends, just acquaintances. These connections will certainly be more than the acquaintances I had growing up.

And that’s where I think the change is going. Initially you may find more divorces and disconnect of people as they embrace technology and don’t communicate face to face. Will there be a drop in interpersonal skills and behavior? Probably. But as it becomes more mainstream for everyone, that connectiveness will still be there, just different. I don’t think that we will get to the stage as most comics point out that people in the same room text each other rather than speak to each other. This is truly the extreme; and as in any society there will always be extremes. People are more likely to text each other, when in other circumstances they wouldn’t have communicated at all. Possibly making the bond between them even stronger. At that point you should see an increase in the amount of stable relationships, because the more you communicate with others the more you get to know each other.

I guess time will tell how this change will affect our society. I optimistically hope it will improve it. You just have to be willing to accept that change is inevitable and give it time to work itself out.  That’s the hard part.

With that as the theme for my program I did my usual research to find stories that I already tell and new ones that fit the theme. One of those new stories I chose was ‘More Than a Match’ by Aaron Shepard. Aaron gives permission for storytellers to tell this story. The story takes place on the road between the cities of Here and There. A giant blocks the road. When the king’s most powerful warriors are defeated by the giant, the Wise One discovers the giant’s true power (the giant’s father is the wind and mother a curved mirror so he shows whatever he sees reflected back) and through kindness learns how to defeat the giant and get his help. Aaron states on his website that this story is suited for ages 5-12 and adult.

As is my usual practice when learning and telling new material, I go to my local schools and practice on willing classes. Since this performance was going to be for grades 1-2 and 3-4, I decided to practice on classes within that age range.

The first class I practiced with was a 3rd grade class. After telling the story the teacher asked the class how the giant was defeated and with a little prompting was able to get the mirror analogy from a student. My second class was also a 3rd grade class. They however could not get the analogy and therefore did not understand the underlying meaning of the story. There were two reasons that they didn’t get the story. One was that the analogy of a mirror was probably too abstract for them. And two, I used a wrong term when describing how the giant helped the Wise One.

When the Wise One figures out that the giant is just a reflection of what is shown him, he offers the giant a ride the rest of the way to There. The giant then responds by lifting up the Wise One, his horse and wagon and transporting them to There (having reflected back and outdoing the offer of a ride).  My mistake with this class was that I said that the Wise One offered ‘a lift’ to the giant to There. Offering a lift and offering a ride are synonymous to me. What I didn’t plan on was that 3rd graders had never heard the phrase, “Can I give you lift?” Especially when you put it in the context of the giant’s reaction, which was to lift up the Wise One and take him to There. This compounded the abstractness of the story, which is why when asked, “What would you do to defeat the Giant?” we got answers such as: “Wrestle him”, “Sneak around him”, and “Challenge him to a hockey game.”

Now comes the dilemma. Both classes loved the story. It was too abstract for them. Is it worth the telling of a story that is above the level of most kids understanding?  This promoted a wide range of opinions on the Storytell listserv. Everything from only using this story with older students because it is more suited to them to tweak the envelope; let the students enjoy the story and someday they’ll get it.

Though I agreed that the abstract meaning was above younger children, I remembered back to my teaching days, when I did lessons that were clearly above students’ heads. The foundations for that learning were planted by my lessons. Years later as those ideas were taught again through other venues by other teachers, my lessons were remembered. The connections were made and they realized it. So why not with story. Remember, the kids liked the tale.

I tried the story again with a 2nd grade and a 1st grade class. This time I did some activities before I told the story where I had the students become mirrors and mirror my actions. I didn’t tell them that it was important to the story I was going to tell; it was just a fun thing to do.

The reaction this time when I told the story was different. In two different classes, individual students made the connection while I was telling the story about what the giant was doing. One student called out “That’s why we did the mirror stuff” and in the other class a student called out, “the giant is a copy-cat”. Once verbalized by a student out loud, I could see little flickers of understanding in a number of other students. These students were younger than the first groups I had told to.

I did finally end up performing the story to my first and second grade audience. Did they all get it? Probably not. Did they connect the copy-cat piece to how the Wise One solved the problem? I would guess that most of them at that age didn’t. But they still loved the story. And someday, when they either hear it again or hear a similar story, I’m pretty hopeful that they will say, “Hey that is just like that story Mr. Heilbrun told us in first grade!”

Both my father and his brother came from the same family. Where did they learn this different style of parenting that created two different son’s reactions? Or was it the influence of our mothers that directed the behaviors of my cousin and me or the environment that we grew up in? Both my cousin and I had older sisters. Did that have an impact?

There was another difference in physical contact and what we chose to adopt and that was concerning discipline. My parents had no problem with spanking me. My mother was less likely to and she would only use her hand. My father would not only use a hand but also his belt and periodically this broken dressmaker’s yardstick that he stored in a closet. This is not to say that I was a terrible child that always needed disciplining, but when I did, that seemed to be the method of punishment.

When I was in second grade I remember my second grade teacher hitting me for something that I did. When I told my parents, there was not much of a reaction. Can you imagine that happening today?  It wasn’t a big hit. I think that she was walking down the aisle by my desk and turned around as I got up and accidentally struck me, to which I blew way out of proportion. At least that’s the way I see it now. I’m sure my parents questioned me about I had been doing, and where and how hard she hit me, but I’m pretty certain they didn’t follow through with any action. It was an acceptable behavior on their part.

So here I’m growing up in an environment where spanking is an acceptable behavior. So why doesn’t it become part of my grown up behavior? I would never consider spanking my child or any child for that matter. What was it about the environment that I grew up in that made me choose not to add that to my makeup? Is it that I grew up in the radical 60’s where non-violence was the philosophy of the day. That certainly didn’t affect my reactions when I played ice hockey in college. Was it an anti violence reaction to how I was brought up with spanking? Not that either my mother or father was what I would call violent in their reactions. My parents education was never beyond high school. Did my higher education make the difference?

As I said in the beginning, what is it about growing up that shapes our behaviors and personalities? What can I do as a parent/teacher/storyteller that can encourage the good qualities to be passed on and any negative ones to be ignored or and not acquired?

My best guess is that you choose to follow what works for you. As a parent/teacher I need to model the behaviors that I want to pass on and hope that is what gets picked up.

I heard this apropos quote in 2000 while I was attending Confratute at the University of Connecticut.  “If you are not modeling what you are teaching, you are teaching something else.”

Hopefully I’m modeling what I want to pass on.

Right now I write because I’m a writer. I’ve been writing reflective journals and stories since I was in my 20’s. I am also a storyteller, so writing helps me put thoughts into words. I could use pencil and paper to write with, in fact I did use pen and paper when I began writing (BC – before computers), but I find the computer a better tool to get ideas down allowing me to revise and edit as I write. This is my perspective of what I’m doing.

If I were to ask my wife what I was doing the answer would be, “Oh you’re on the computer again, because that is what you always do.”  My son on the other hand would equate the fact that me being on the computer is akin to him being on his video game system or on the Internet searching game system histories. There is no a difference between what we do.

If I were writing with pen and paper, the responses would not elicit the same reactions, yet I would be doing the same thing.

I get similar reactions when I use my iPod. Most people use their iPods for listening to music and such. I, however, listen to podcasts that relate to education, technology and storytelling. I rarely if ever listen to music. Yet it is not what I’m listening to that is reacted to, but the fact that I am listening to an electronic device.  If I were reading a book, magazine or newspaper on the same topics there would not be a reaction.

So my question is at what point does the action of what your doing get recognized as opposed to the vehicle that you use to do that action?

There are a number of proverbs about all work and no play. So like everyone else, I need to have venues that allow me to relax (though writing does). Unfortunately for me, those venues generally use technology. Whether it be doing online research of family histories or watching TV/movies (that my family doesn’t like doing) or listening to old time radio theater broadcasts.

My family’s concern is about the amount of time that I spend on all of these devices. I think that is what generates the negative responses to technology. I will admit that there are times that I use my iPod to listen to different kinds of podcasts, like online magazines, and old time radio programs. And I do use my computer to read comics, watch videos that some friends recommend, and go on Facebook to keep up with friends, colleagues and relatives. In those instances I’ll accept the criticism.  As a writer/storyteller unfortunately, I don’t have a 9-5 job. I tend to want to work all of the time (another issue). I do choose to work at times when both my wife and son are home. My son will be engrossed in a video console game; my wife sitting and watching him play. I choose to be on the computer, researching, writing or just keeping up with e-mail. In these instances all they see is me on the computer.

I can’t separate using technology for work from using technology for pleasure (there is a lot of overlapping here). To my family it is all the same. Their perception is that I’m a techno-junkie and can’t live without it. Who knows maybe they’re right. I’m sure if I search hard enough I could find some website or podcast that would give me more information about that techno-need condition. Though it would probably be very interesting, I probably wouldn’t be able to get anyone else to read/hear/watch it. It would just be me using technology again, which is, I guess, just what I do.

By the time I was twenty-two my two year old niece had seen the walking into doors act a number of times. Her laughter at my behavior promoted more actions on my part. She would never tire of my antics. One day however while we were playing normally, she decided she needed to poke me in the eye. I must preface this by saying that I never did any physical humor involving others, similar to the Three Stooges. All of my shtick was self-imposed. Needless to say when my niece poked me in the eye, I reacted by putting my hand to my face and screaming “Ouch!”. As expected, her reaction was intense laughter, with the hopes of being able to do it again. I realized at this point that I had set this pattern up. It took me a while to explain to her that this was real and that poking someone in the eye is not an acceptable action. She was after all two years old.

Watching movies nowadays, like “Night at the Museum” where the monkey slaps Ben Stiller and in response Ben Stiller slaps the monkey back is not the reaction you want to teach a two year old a lesson. I was old enough to realize that poking my niece in the eye was not the right thing to do.  So I tried calmly to explain that she had hurt me and that she shouldn’t do it again. Sometimes you just have to wait for the right moment for that kind of lesson.

Let’s turn now to Chanukah, 2009 at my sister’s house. Our whole family is there, including all my nieces and nephews. My niece is now 36 years older with a husband and two year old of her own. This two year old ran around with his cousins and jumped and hugged others. At one point he jumped on my niece’s lap and pokes her right in the eye. Both she and her husband admonish him in the attempt to point out that poking someone in the eye is inappropriate behavior. They were looking for contrition on the face of their son. However what I saw on his face was that same expression from 36 years ago when a two year old niece of mine reacted to poking me in the eye. I know I should have had some compassion for her and for her son, who had no idea what he had done wrong, but all I could think about was what goes around comes around and I was there to see it.

As I got older I still had recurring dreams, but they usually were based on other themes. In my later teen years it was more about space travel. I was the lone occupant of a space capsule that was usually sent deceptively off into space beyond enemy lines to gather information for someone.

I don’t remember any recurring dreams in college, but once I became a teacher I began to have them again. This time I was trying to teach a lesson to a totally out of control class. The students in the class were sometimes, my own class, but most of the time I was a teacher in an unknown class. No matter what I tried to do I could not maintain or achieve any amount of control over my class. This recurring dream occurred multiple times over the 33 years that I was a teacher. The interesting part of these dreams was not that they made it difficult for me to sleep or that they had any connection to what was really going on in my classroom, but what the methods were that I tried in my dream to try and get that control. In the dream world, my self-esteem took a hit. In the real world, the dreams I had helped me come up with a lot of new innovative strategies on how to be a more effective teacher, which in turn helped me maintain control.

Now I’m retired and I get to teach adults and do storytelling and singing in front of large groups of children and families. My school dreams have faded, though I occasionally get my dreams of uncontrollable adults in the courses I teach. Now I have the dreams of dealing with large groups of kids and parents in a performance. I haven’t had the dream of a totally uncontrollable group yet, but I have had to deal with one or two hecklers in my dreams. I assume that this just continues to seed my head in preparation for all the different things that happen as I continue as a storyteller.

All this is not to say that I don’t have recurring dreams that focus on doing great things with well controlled groups that don’t want to bury me. I just don’t remember them. I guess that’s how dreams are supposed to work. My son is amazed that I can even remember one dream I’ve had. Maybe that’s what makes me do so well as a storyteller. At least that is what I read into my dreams.