Vivian Gussin Paley, the only kindergarten teacher to win a MacArthur Fellowship, has won great acclaim, and respect, for her innovative teaching of young children at the University of Chicago Laboratory Schools. Paley is also the author of many books, including “You Can’t Say You Can’t Play” and “Kwanzaa and Me.” Her most recent, “The Girl With the Brown Crayon,” focused on her last year in the classroom before her recent retirement and the journey she and her pupils took through the dramatic world of Leo Lionni (whose autobiography is reviewed on Page 1). Paley talked with Tribune literary editor Elizabeth Taylor about storytelling and how children learn.
Q–Can you speak about the resonance that Leo Lionni’s books have for children?
A–One of the reasons that I have so enjoyed and gotten so much out of Leo Lionni’s books is because they tell stories that almost intuitively need to be dramatized by children. This is the kind of book I love. I think children of all ages, particularly our younger students, need to step inside of a story and imagine themselves in a role. If they can actually do it, so much the better, but they will do it anyway. Next, his artwork, early on, drew me in.
The other thing I loved about Leo Lionni’s books is that once we were inside the books–once you were a character in them–you so identified with the issues of self and society, with those profound issues that seem difficult to solve in one’s first steps into the outside world. And there he is, dealing with them, in such a profound way–but such a simple way. There simply aren’t very many books I’ve discovered that have moved me as these have. These books–the story, the characters, the philosophical underpinnings and the brilliant illustrations–came together as total works of art, just as a child is a work of art for me.
Q–How have children’s books evolved over the years?
A–I have loved the greater accessibility of folk tales from all over the world: Africa, Japan, China, India, Native American, African-American.
To me, the story is the thing. I need a story that can be acted out. I probably go further than anyone I know of except for an out-and-out theater person. For me, classroom is theater.
On the other side, I never used, and do not use, the tie-in books to products or television programs. I’m not an expert on that. I used no audio-visual material; it was books and face-to-face and acting out to offset the technical, commercial side of the world. I didn’t object to children playing out the television shows they were interested in, provided they remembered their manners toward each other. The power of individual invention is so strong that there is no television episode that will not finally succumb to invention and change. That gives me an optimistic view.
Q–What other books do you like for children?
A–I have to put on the list all the old books that are still in our school library: the Beatrix Potter, Margaret Wise Brown, the wonderful books by Claire Bishop, the Boxcar Children, the Frank Asch animal stories, Eloise Greenfield, Eric Carle. What could be a better story to act out than Ruth Krauss’ “Carrot Seed”? There is a story of individual and society. There are so many wonderful books out there.
Q–How do you go about writing your books?
A–I got into the habit of taping every story that is dictated (by children), all classroom discussions of children with each other or me, and have kept dozens and dozens of journals for each year. By the middle of the school year, the characters and plot of the new book have walked in. Then I begin transcribing. Every other book has taken place over several years of research, since I must preserve the privacy of every single family and children, so that any given collection of children in a classroom is gleaned from several years in a classroom. No word a child has ever said has been changed. It’s just that I reserve the right to put some of these words into other children’s mouths because it is meaning I am after, not the identity of certain individuals. No one has ever heard the tape recorder but me. Once a book is finished and in print, all the notebooks that have names and personal stuff in them are thrown out.
In addition, the tape recorder is never put in a place unless I’m there. No one is taped not knowing I’m there listening. The main reason, aside from the fact I wouldn’t eavesdrop, is that context is everything.
To me, what is interesting is that when I have not yet focused on a book, the taping goes on without stopping because it is the way I have learned to replay the events of the classroom. I take them home and transcribe them. It enables me to always have something to write about, always something to help me think about, always have something to evolve into a book. It has become crucial to me. It is extremely useful to my taking off in flights of fancy.
