BFG by Roald Dahl

Roald Dahl

Roald Dahl may not be known by many adults outside a child’s world. Oh, they might recognize movies that came from his books: James and the Giant Peach, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Matilda, BFG, The Witches, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and … But many adults may not know anything about his BOOKS.

Roald Dahl was prolific, and creativity poured from him, a fountain that children enjoyed for decades. My students were always enthralled 
when I read James and the Giant Peach aloud.

Which of his books surprised me?
The BFG surprised me. Can't tell you why,  I won’t give the synopsis because I really want you Bloggers to check it out.  A tender story with courage and love, The BFG (Big Friendly Giant) gives the reader hope and humor.

As too often, movies made from great books are often trash, as they are slashed, removing essential story lines. I won’t list those movies as they shouldn’t be watched by anyone with any sort of discerning taste.

But, The BFG, it was not trashed.

Here is a trailer of the movie:

The actor is Mark Rylance. Some may recognize him from other movies.

In my writing group years ago, most teachers taught older students. They did not value the earlier books such as these. These books established the writing their older students would do. 

Every building needs its foundation stones. Books like The BFG are part of those stones.

On Teaching

I loved teaching, still love teaching.  When my health said it was time to stop, I turned away from the classroom.  I now have two granddaughters whom I love without end.  Still, I miss the classroom, the eyes of the students as they learn. 

The eyes never change.   

In the twenty years since my first group of students, I may not recognize them, but they recognize me.  

 When I see the eyes, I can call up the child-face these adults once had.  Suddenly we are talking about their lives and what they are doing as adults.  Some have children holding their hand, some are going on to school.  I don’t tell them about me, my life goals, because I am not and never was the important one:  the students were all that mattered to me.

Almost every night I have a dream about teaching.  Some are great, where we are on the playground or we are reading a grand book.  Others are not. 

In those dreams, the teaching situation is desperate, the classroom is an abandoned rotting shell of a building, and the students are scared.  So am I.  There are so many students with all sorts of needs and we don’t have enough books to go around.  Whatever learning happens is up to the teacher, because there is no other source.  I see their eyes looking at me, waiting, and that is when I do something.

Bolivia Road of Death

I never get to find out what I do, for the dream morphs onto something like driving a school bus along that most dangerous road in Bolivia.  Then I wake up.

It all comes down to the teacher and the quality he/she brings to the classroom.  Money can be thrown at the needs of the schools, but if the teacher does not have the freedom to teach, nothing will happen.
  

e ceiling, reams of lined paper can line the walls, and sharpened pencils can lie in laundry baskets.  

But, if the teacher does not have the freedom to explore and fulfill the needs of each student, learning will dwindle to the bubbles on Scantron™ test papers.