Bookworm Trust

Written by Nirupama Kaushik, LEC 2018

Our taxi drove through the gates of St. Joseph Vaz Spiritual Renewal Centre and stopped in front of the building I knew well. After all, this was where I had spent six lovely days in April engrossed in books, discussions, presentations and lighthearted conversations. Coming back after three months was a reunion of sorts. There was excitement in the air. LEC Contact 1 had opened several windows and held up multiple mirrors for me. A warm welcome note found its way into the hands of every participant. I could not wait to get started with the second contact period.

Our time in Goa was packed with a variety of carefully planned and well executed activities. Dr. Radha Gopalan took us through a report writing workshop where we discussed the elements of a report and came to an agreement on what a ‘good’ report looks like. Soon I could hear my tummy rumble and it was time for lunch.  A heavy meal topped with delicious Solkadi did not stop us from gearing up for a quick round of treasure hunt. We were reunited with our group from LEC Contact 1 to find a book that had been chosen for us to present the next day. When all 25 participants were ready, we lined up in front of the study room and a basket of rose petals was passed around. The doors opened to a gorgeous display on the night, separate corners for abstract art, stitching and poetry writing and even a table for clay modelling. But before we could absorb all that was laid out, we stood with our partners and took part in a Goan wedding ritual set to Lalita’s vivacious rendition of When The Saints Go Marching In. The energy in the room soared. We were definitely back with a bang, ready to lap up all that Contact – 2 had to offer!

On day two we participated in a two hour session on drama by Ms. Rajyashree Dutt. She urged us to lose our inhibitions and take on the traits of different characters with an emphasis on voice modulation and body language. The contact period also gave us the opportunity to critically view children’s literature, especially through the lenses of conflict, gender and morality, dive deep into what illustrations represent and explore nonfiction texts. Anuradha, Kedar and Neeraj, participants of LEC English 2017, shared their journeys and gave us the right amount of inspiration to work on our field projects. A huge lesson for me was trying to understand how a library is assessed and clear the air of ambiguity that such a task brings with it. Book talks continued to drive the morning assembly. The icing on the cake was a visit to Bookworm where I was blown away by the remarkable collection and the effort that the team makes to make stories come alive for children…. and library educators.

One evening, in the silence of my room and with a head swimming in opinions, questions and observations, I sat down to look at the list of readings in my compendium. A particular paper caught my eye because of the title – What Facts Does This Poem Teach You?

I took a walk down memory lane.

“Sit straight, close your eyes and listen to the poem… Now open your eyes. I’ll dictate the meaning of lines 1 and 2. Write down what I say.”

Year after year in school, I attended English classes where we were ‘taught’ poetry. Unfortunately, I have no memory of those lessons ever evoking an emotional response. The lines of the poet were stripped off their ability to create imagery and reduced to the memorization of poetic devices like similes and metaphors. If we mugged the examples and reproduced them in the exam, we had met the objectives of the syllabus. It was only after I entered college and interacted with people from different walks of life that I began to scratch the surface of a world that had seemed alien to me not too long ago. I widened my reading interests and soon learnt to enjoy the rhythm of poetry. When I was training to be a teacher, I thought that teaching poetry would be an interesting challenge. I was all set for it. But much to my dismay, I learnt that nothing had really changed from my school days. We were instructed to follow the same archaic methods resulting in dull, lifeless reactions from the listeners and all those verses were restricted to one grand ‘message’ in the lines. My attempts to share the poems I had read were confined to my family and friends.

So when Jane began to unpack the aforementioned paper and facilitated a discussion on poetry, I was very keen to see what she would do. We were divided into groups and each of us was given a copy of The Door by Miroslav Holub. Our group sat in a circle and Harshita read the poem aloud. We waited for a moment before we shared our reactions. They ranged from a group member’s real experience of moving to another country and feeling helpless and alone to seeking a glimmer of aspiration in the worst of situations. Jane patiently listened and then told us to read the poem aloud again. Ishrat read it and it felt different. We discussed the arrangement of words and the use of free verse in the poem. We imagined the ‘darkness ticking’ and glanced at every stanza, looking for a pattern. A quiet reading followed. Jane urged us to notice the tone in the first line and how it changed when the line was repeated towards the end. It began with a sense of authority but as the words flowed, there was evident softness and motivation. I could hear my mother’s voice, filled with encouragement, telling me to embrace change wholeheartedly.  A group member remarked that maybe we should not overdo the reading because it may take away the beauty of the piece and right then, Jane said – Read it aloud again! We did and instantly, I felt how the voice in the poem was recreated. From a flicker of hope, it had turned into a bright light of positivity and every reading just enhanced the emotions of the group. Based on our mood at that time and our experiences, each of us interpreted the poem differently, yet there was a thread that bound us together. For the first time (in a class) I was not ‘dissecting’ a poem to see if it was technically sound but enjoying the movement between the layers of words. We looked around to see the other groups immersed in the lightness that the poem had brought to the room. We shared our insights. I knew that poetry would never be the same for me.

I have always been unsure about how my students would react to poetry and I admit my apprehensions have stopped me from trying to take it up in the form of a library activity. But the experience that Jane gave us made me realise what I have been depriving them of. There were endless possibilities and avenues for expression, each more meaningful than the other. There was no right or wrong answer, only perspectives. The process was organic, mindful and calm. And then Jane summed it all up when she reminded us to enjoy the slowness of things.

I was now ready to go and open the door.

Leave a Reply