I’m teaching a weekly origami workshop at our library for the Summer Reading Program. Last week we made origami pirate hats. The Samurai Pirate model was the most popular, followed by the traditional pirate hat. Or a combination of the two! Only one kid wanted to make the African kufi hat, which was my personal favorite. Like Captain Barbossa, most pirates seem to prefer “a really big hat.” But I have to admit that the Samurai Pirate is a great look! Then, of course, we also had the Fashion Pirate, a little girl dressed in pink with a striped heart on her knit top, sporting a matching striped pirate hat. Très chic, aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhh.
That’s what one of the parents told me after this week’s Page Presents story-time class. How cool is that?
I got to unleash my inner Pirate for two days in a row, because I led a library tour/story-time for kids from a nearby day school on Thursday, and I had our weekly Page Presents story-time class on Friday.
Mr. Matt got everyone in the mood by leading the kids in a rousing chorus of pirate talk, including “Aaaaaarrrrrrrrrgh!” “Shiver me timbers” and “Swab the deck!” We explained that sailors sang to help pass the time and also to make sure that everyone hauled on the ropes in unison. We taught them the refrain of Haul on the Bowline and gave them a rope to hold as we swayed back and forth to the beat. Then we got them to practice their swaggering and swashbuckling to The Coast of High Barbary.
Our featured story was The Pirate’s Parrot, by Lyn Rossiter-McFarland and illustrated by James McFarland. The seeing-eye parrot of Captain Cur has dropped dead, and the grieving captain has dropped — and accidentally crushed underfoot — his monocle. This renders him nearly blind, which is why he doesn’t notice that the package his bungling sailors steal as a replacement contains a teddy bear, not a bird. His quick-thinking quartermaster explains that the crew’s laughter is “the dreaded giggle of fear” inspired by this strange new “fur-feathered, sharp-toothed, beady-eyed buzzard of a bird.” Down below, the teddy is about to be tossed into the sea when it begs for its life and is taught its duties as the captain’s bird. It’s a great story, with ample opportunity for growling, swaggering, and swashbuckling.
Afterwards we made pirate hats and eye patches. These simple crafts were easy for the kids to make themselves, and they loved wearing them.
I managed to snap a photo of this rogue’s gallery before they went their marauding ways:
I had been a bit worried that our regulars in the Origami Cool Zone might find simple boats too elementary and not sufficiently challenging. But how could i forget that one of the many charms of origami is the simplicity, elegance, and frugality of the traditional designs? Like music, paper folding is an art that transcends language and allows people to connect through a shared experience.
We had our usual large crowd for the Origami Cool Zone.
And the boats were a big hit!
It was an extremely hot day, but quite a few people — and all of the kids — took their boats outside to test their seaworthiness. We had set up two large tubs full of water, and we passed out straws so people could blow their boats around. There was an intermittent stiff breeze that also kept the boats in motion.
Playing with boats is amazingly relaxing. Everyone was enjoying themselves so much that we had a hard time getting them to leave at closing time.
A: Yes, it is a document when a haiku is written on it!
Our kick-off for the Summer Reading Program happened to coincide with the regular monthly meeting of the Origami Cool Zone, so an origami boat regatta was planned since this would be a perfect way to “Make a Splash @ Your Library!”
My colleague Anne and I had been talking about the necessity of committing random acts of whimsy, and we came up with the idea of getting people to write haiku on their boats so we can place them around the library for our patrons to discover.
I had my doubts about whether this would work. Would the origami enthusiasts be willing to pause before learning to fold another boat model and (possibly) use a completely different part of their brains to compose a three-line seventeen-syllable poem?
They would!
With much scribbling and counting syllables on fingers, they tackled haiku composition with the same care and energy that they bring to paper folding. I brought the boats home to document before placing them around the library. Here are some of their creations!
Here are a few of my favorites:
I like my cool boat!
Floating alot in the sea
It awesomely floats!
Green leaves in summer
Sparkle in sunlight with green
On a hill at dawn.
Beautiful and calm
Alone in vast ocean blue
My white boat and me.
Summer books take me
Places like Origami
Sailing in my mind.
Pirates have hook hands
They look for lost gold treasure
They wear eye patches.
Shark hats were one of the activities suggested in the packet of materials we received from the Collaborative Summer Library Program.
However, the hat that resulted from following the instructions would only fit a very small monkey doll, whose head was smaller than that of a newborn human baby. So I had to redesign the shark hat. (I will add instructions, measurements, and the template for the shark body to this post later.)
This hat can be made to fit a variety of head sizes by changing the distance of the first folds from the center line, as you can see from the photo of a mother and her daughter modeling their hats.
I really liked the contrasting hat styles worn by this grandfather and grandson.
Check out the gallery below of shark hats @ the library!
——We kicked off this year’s Summer Reading Program with a splash last Saturday! We had a great program by Albuquerque’s Water Utility Authority in the morning, followed by the making of shark hats after lunch, followed by the regular monthly meeting of the Origami Cool Zone and the folding of boats and composition of haiku, and the origami boat regatta. More about these events in my next posts! In this post I want to talk about our awesome oceanic decor throughout the library. My thirsty eyes wish we could leave it up forever and then maybe I wouldn’t pine so much for Puget Sound.
My Orca mask is slung above the holds shelf, thrilling one and all. We must be one of the only libraries in the country with a large whale as featured decor for this year’s Summer Reading Program theme…and certainly the only one in the desert Southwest.
Check out a photo-montage of more aquatic decor at the Juan Tabo Library!
Petite Rouge, by Mike Artell and illustrated by Jim Harris, was last week’s featured book. A rhymed Cajun retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, it fit right in with our recent series of Cajun stories. Petite Rouge Riding Hood, along with her heroic cat TeJean, vanquish old Claude the ‘gator with the help of some redhot pepper sauce.
Mr. Matt taught everyone the 3/4 waltz rhythm by having them stomp one foot on the first beat and clap their thighs on beats 2 and 3. Then he had them stomp with alternate feet, before introducing the waltz steps. I wish I had gotten a photo of one mother and daughter waltzing together! I’ll want to revisit the waltz in future story-times. All the kids danced up a storm while clapping along to the beat.
I elected to read the book this time instead of performing it as a puppet show because of its rhymed Cajun lingo. I used my little red-haired doll and my alligator puppet and a cat finger puppet to accent the story, but it wasn’t up to my usual standard of performance. I had been feeling like the whole thing fell flat, but then Eli latched onto the book afterwards and examined the illustrations minutely and pointed out many details that I had overlooked. I figured that he wouldn’t want to check it out, after having spent so much time looking at it in the library, but to my great surprise he took it home with him.
For our craft, we made finger puppets of Petite Rouge Riding Hood, TeJean the cat, and old Claude the ‘gator. I dyed the clothespins green like Easter eggs with green food coloring, hot water, and vinegar. That worked pretty well! The clothespin alligator was the most successful craft for the kids. The cotton ball finger puppets would work better with older kids. In any case, I recommend making finger puppets with a single cotton ball, instead of two cotton balls. The kids had better success with the cat finger puppet, but trying to glue two cotton balls together was too messy and the puppets were a bit floppy and top-heavy. Not my most successful preschool craft! But the kids seemed to enjoy it anyway and had a jolly time menacing Petite Rouge with their clothespin gators!
Feliciana is a feisty little girl and the youngest in a family of older brothers. One day she is particularly full of beans and has such a bad day that she and one of her brothers (who had been in charge of keeping her out of trouble) are made to stay home while the rest of the family goes to the fais do do. Her brother is so miffed that he has to miss the dance party because of her, he taunts her that the dreaded loup garou (Cajun werewolf) will get her.
When she hears a howl outside her window, she is sure that her brother ti-Jacques is trying to scare her, so she runs out into the swamp in hot pursuit. There she meets up with a real loup garou. When she confides her troubles, he tells her that howling at the moon always makes him feel better. They do some companionable howling, and the story ends happily. My oldest doll, that my mama made for me, played the part of Feliciana, and I made a not-too-scary Loup Garou puppet.
Mr. Matt had the kids clapping and hollerin’—and dancing!—along with the zydeco two-step, and this was a perfect lead-in to my story. I asked the kids to howl along with the loup garou, and they howled with gusto. In my version of the story, the family returns from the party in a dancing mood, so Feliciana and ti-Jacques get swept up in a family fais do do at the end. This gave us a chance to crank up the zydeco again and give the kids another chance to “laissez les bon temps rouler!”
I decided that this week would be a good time for another open-ended craft. I asked the kids make a mask to answer the question: Who Is the Loup Garou?
I found a wolf mask template that I really liked. It had a jiggly, hand-drawn outline and a kind of rakish simplicity that reminded me of outsider art. I gave everyone a copy of the mask template and a small paper plate. They could mount their finished Loup Garou face on the paper plate for a sturdier mask.
I provided various kinds of paper, foam pieces, and a couple of boxes full of ribbons and trims. The kids did the rest.
And, as they modeled their masks for me, they started howling…
A colleague and fellow alumnus of the University of Washington Information School just sent me this video, featuring students and faculty at the iSchool.
I should point out, for non-initiates, the significance of the antelope. This is code for a debate about the nature of documents, introduced during the twentieth century and continuing into the digital age. In 1951, Suzanne Briet (1894-1989) published an article on the nature of documentation, asserting that “A document is evidence in support of a fact.”
According to Briet, an antelope running wild on the African savannah is not a document. But an antelope placed in a zoo and made an object of study is a document, she rules. For more about antelopes as documents, see “What is a “document”? by Michael K. Buckland.
Full disclosure: Antelopes also figured prominently in the class song I wrote for the end-of-term party hosted by my cohort.
Last week was our Read to the Dogs / Crafty Saturday program. Towards the end, I noticed that a little girl had removed all the child-sized chairs from the small tables and had carefully lined them all up against the wall. Then she proceeded to place a stack of board books on each chair. She was bustling about up and down the row of chairs, moving the books around, rapt in her own make-believe world.
Earlier in the week, I had seen an older child doing much the same thing, except she had taken all the stuffed animals and seated them in the chairs at the tables and was singing to them as she supervised their work.
In this out-of-the-way corner of the large children’s room, with its child-sized tables and chairs arranged next to child-height shelving, kids have discovered a perfect space for creating their own worlds. I’m glad that our library includes space for creative play. Recently I read Susan Linn’s new book, The Case for Make Believe: Saving Play in a Commercialized World. Linn, who is a psychologist, therapist, scholar, and puppeteer, points to the rise of toys and craft kits that encourage kids to replicate someone else’s design rather than creating their own.
A few years ago I was working at an university library and helping a lot of undergraduate students each semester who were in a state of panic over an assignment to go to the art museum and describe a work of art in their own words. They inevitably ran to the library and begged the librarian to find a printed description of the work in question. No amount of pointing out that the assignment clearly stated that they were to describe the work themselves, in their own words, would satisfy them. They had no confidence at all in their own ability to look, see, and describe. Was this a result of our society’s persistence in viewing the arts as unnecessary frills, and the withdrawal of funding for arts education? I wondered if this could be somehow related to the whole cult of perfection that seemed to have destroyed a lot of individual music-making. With the perfection of music created in a recording studio, people seemed to find their own performances too flawed and imperfect and just gave up making music altogether.
When I inherited the Friday story-time at my library, which included a craft, I didn’t realize at first that the “craft” had previously consisted of coloring printed coloring pages. Since I was looking at the project from my perspective as a college instruction librarian who had done a lot of reading and thinking about pedagogy, I wanted to create crafts that would build on the story and provide avenues for creative dramatic play around the story theme. The transition from coloring pre-printed pages to putting together somewhat complex crafts was harder on the parents than on the kids, I suspect. I noticed that, at first, I needed to create very prescribed kits. Over time, I have done less and less pre-processing and have left more leeway for adapting and personalizing the project. Occasionally I throw in a very open-ended project.
It has been thrilling to see how self-sufficient and creative the kids have become! I know I have succeeded when I see the kids playing with their personalized version of the craft project in ways that show that they are inhabiting the world of the story and making up their own dramatic variations. A number of parents and grandparents have described how their kids continue this dramatic play at home. Others have thanked me for making the process of creation a big part of the fun, with less focus on the end product.
It’s important to preserve and create spaces for creativity, both physically and temporally.