metaphor for feelings I often have, and for all I know lots of people have those feelings but I wouldn’t know because I don’t talk to anyone about my feelings – about being nervous and pretending not to, like Rabbit, or about being greedy for delicious sweet things like Pooh, or just feeling silly and bouncy like Tigger.
Anyway, when Pooh is confused or worried or scared he makes up little hums which he hums to himself to express how he is feeling, and sometimes it makes him feel better. Perhaps my teacher chose that book for me deliberately, to give me a little hint that you don’t have to go from quiet to loud in one leap; you can use quiet little hums as an in-between step between being silent and talking to other people. Perhaps Mrs. E. had told my teacher about the Strategy of Small Steps. So I tried a tiny little hum, with my mouth firmly closed. But it wasn’t loud enough to make an echo.
I took a deep breath, and I did a breathing exercise that Mrs. E. had taught me and which we had practiced, and I took another breath and kind of imagined that not only Pooh, but also all the fifteen animals from the birthday song were all sitting next to me, encouraging me to be strong and to use a strong voice. I tried to imagine that they would say it with me so we could be strong together, and then I said “BOB” from the ‘Fifteen Animals’ song, quite loudly, and it echoed right back at me, and I wished Mrs. E., or at least Winnie the Pooh, had been there to hear it.
But what happened then was amazing, because a few children standing near me liked my word, and they copied me. And then the echo copied them, and they did it again, and I did it again, and then we were all making silly noises and I was copying their noises, and the echo tube was copying us all, and it was so funny.
So I did it. I made a big noise, right there in front of the children in my class and my teachers and in front of all those people who I had never met who were visiting the museum too, and in front of the echo machine which sent my loud voice right back to me.
That was more than a little step for me; it was a really giant step, and by the end of that school year I was talking in class quite a bit, and I was singing along in assembly, and I joined the afternoon science club and there were five other children there, and I could talk to them while we did science.
I think Mrs. E. must be addicted to tea, because we never got through a session without her saying, “I think it is time for tea.”
Actually it is something I like, because it reminds me of when my dad sometimes has meetings in our home with his team. They are all sharing what they know; there isn’t any one person being the boss. They talk when they want to and they can be silent if they need to think, and if they have nothing to say they say nothing. And they always have something to drink; my father makes them tea or coffee or a cold drink, and I think that is a clever thing to do because it makes people feel they are relaxing in the space together, and they don’t have to worry about being ‘team players’; they are just all there, working.
I learned a lot about tea from Mrs. E. She is very particular about what kind of tea she drinks. It has to be Orange Pekoe, with the leaves of a particular size, not too small; tea bags are her pet hate. Although you can now buy teabags which contain whole leaves in them, Mrs. E. is yet to be convinced. She told me she had visited tea plantations and saw that the tea in tea bags was not good quality tea. She always uses the same teapot which has a special cover to put over it to keep the tea warm, and we have to wait the correct amount of time for the tea to draw, even if we are in a hurry or really dying for the tea.
We drink it without milk; that way you get the real taste of the tea. I will never understand how people can bear to ruin their tea by adding milk.
So one day, while Mrs. E. was getting the tea, I was just looking
Anyway, when Pooh is confused or worried or scared he makes up little hums which he hums to himself to express how he is feeling, and sometimes it makes him feel better. Perhaps my teacher chose that book for me deliberately, to give me a little hint that you don’t have to go from quiet to loud in one leap; you can use quiet little hums as an in-between step between being silent and talking to other people. Perhaps Mrs. E. had told my teacher about the Strategy of Small Steps. So I tried a tiny little hum, with my mouth firmly closed. But it wasn’t loud enough to make an echo.
I took a deep breath, and I did a breathing exercise that Mrs. E. had taught me and which we had practiced, and I took another breath and kind of imagined that not only Pooh, but also all the fifteen animals from the birthday song were all sitting next to me, encouraging me to be strong and to use a strong voice. I tried to imagine that they would say it with me so we could be strong together, and then I said “BOB” from the ‘Fifteen Animals’ song, quite loudly, and it echoed right back at me, and I wished Mrs. E., or at least Winnie the Pooh, had been there to hear it.
But what happened then was amazing, because a few children standing near me liked my word, and they copied me. And then the echo copied them, and they did it again, and I did it again, and then we were all making silly noises and I was copying their noises, and the echo tube was copying us all, and it was so funny.
So I did it. I made a big noise, right there in front of the children in my class and my teachers and in front of all those people who I had never met who were visiting the museum too, and in front of the echo machine which sent my loud voice right back to me.
That was more than a little step for me; it was a really giant step, and by the end of that school year I was talking in class quite a bit, and I was singing along in assembly, and I joined the afternoon science club and there were five other children there, and I could talk to them while we did science.
I think Mrs. E. must be addicted to tea, because we never got through a session without her saying, “I think it is time for tea.”
Actually it is something I like, because it reminds me of when my dad sometimes has meetings in our home with his team. They are all sharing what they know; there isn’t any one person being the boss. They talk when they want to and they can be silent if they need to think, and if they have nothing to say they say nothing. And they always have something to drink; my father makes them tea or coffee or a cold drink, and I think that is a clever thing to do because it makes people feel they are relaxing in the space together, and they don’t have to worry about being ‘team players’; they are just all there, working.
I learned a lot about tea from Mrs. E. She is very particular about what kind of tea she drinks. It has to be Orange Pekoe, with the leaves of a particular size, not too small; tea bags are her pet hate. Although you can now buy teabags which contain whole leaves in them, Mrs. E. is yet to be convinced. She told me she had visited tea plantations and saw that the tea in tea bags was not good quality tea. She always uses the same teapot which has a special cover to put over it to keep the tea warm, and we have to wait the correct amount of time for the tea to draw, even if we are in a hurry or really dying for the tea.
We drink it without milk; that way you get the real taste of the tea. I will never understand how people can bear to ruin their tea by adding milk.
So one day, while Mrs. E. was getting the tea, I was just looking
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