We walk into a large room with a group of children sitting on the floor. They’re all facing a woman who’s sitting on a stool beside a stack of books. Expectation hangs heavy in the air, like a kid waiting to lick the beaters when Mom’s making a cake. The woman at the front of the room waves as we walk in.
Mick takes the stool when she gives it up, and he picks up the first book. Ryan leads me to a spot at the back of the room and points to a chair, but I sink down onto the floor instead, directly behind the children, and cross my legs in front of me. A few parents linger on the edges of the room.
The kids are excitedly waiting for whatever is about to happen. Mick motions to the stack of books. “Which book do we want to read first?”
“The Very Hungry Caterpillar!” the kids yell at once.
Mick folds his arms and pretends to look cross. “Something tells me you’ve all heard these stories before.”
“No, no, no,” they cry. “We’ve never heard these before!” They pretend to be adamant about it, but I can tell this is a game they’ve all played before.
“You’re sure you’ve never heard The Very Hungry Caterpillar?” he asks, and he teases them by opening the book.
“We promise!” they yell on top of one another.
He puts the book back down.
Ryan barks out a laugh beside me. It’s noisy and beautiful, just like him, and I’m giddy inside just seeing how excited he is.
Mick picks up a different book and the kids cheer for that one too, but not quite as loudly as they did for the caterpillar book. One of Ryan’s friends goes and sits on the floor beside Mick and holds her hands at the ready.
She starts to tell the story in ASL, and Mick follows along with her signs, reading out loud as she goes. She obviously knows the story by heart, and he’s just keeping up and showing the pages, but the excitement is for the way she’s telling the story. She’s not just interpreting. She’s storytelling. She’s using ASL to paint a vivid picture of what’s happening in the book for the children. She’s acting, signing, and being overall funny, puffing out her cheeks and shaking her finger. Mick laughs at her and continues to read, keeping in time with her story, even if it means he has to pause every now and then so she can elaborately draw a picture with her hands. She’s telling a story with her hands and the rest of her body.
It’s mesmerizing.
And it’s so much more than I ever thought storytelling could be.
Everyone claps when she’s done, and I see that a small group of children waves their hands in the air. “Clapping for deaf kids,” Ryan explains to me. I see that the kids are wearing hearing aids and other listening devices. They enjoyed the story tremendously, and so did the hearing kids.
They read seven more books, and each person in the group performs a different story. Then it’s time for The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Mick picks up the book and the kids go crazy.
Ryan looks at me and winks. Then he gets up and goes to sit on the floor by Mick. I had no idea he would be performing.
He starts to tell the story of a very hungry caterpillar who hatched from a cocoon. He shows the struggle to hatch with his hands and makes a tiny little worm with his finger, and then has it crawl up and down his own arm. He has to impart how very hungry the caterpillar is, so he holds his belly and shakes it, sinking his cheeks in by sucking on them. The kids are mesmerized as he goes through the story. He’s making it come alive. Mick reads and turns pages for the kids, but none of them are actually looking at the book. They’re raptly watching Ryan, and I can see why.
Ryan is really good at this. When he gets to the part of the book where the caterpillar eats oranges, he pretends to shoot himself in the eye with a spray of juice. The kids giggle and laugh all the way to the end of the story. When it’s over, there’s an audible sigh of sadness. Then the clapping starts.