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Peabody: One School, Many Stories Literacy Week – What’s Your Story?

Peabody: One School, Many Stories Literacy Week – What’s Your Story?
Posted on 04/28/2017
“The telling and hearing of stories is a bonding ritual that breaks through illusions of separateness and activates a deep sense of our collective interdependence.” - Annette Simmons, The Story Factor

April 2017

Dear Parents / Caregivers,

As we prepare for this year’s Literacy Week, we are excited to invite members of our community to participate in our celebration by sharing the stories that make each of us unique and yet connect us in an extraordinary way.

What’s your story? Who are you? What do you want to share with the world?
With other Peabody families?

Please consider sharing your story. It can be your story alone or your family’s story. We are humbled to collect and share these personal thoughts and ideas with our community.

Please email your story to Nicole Sullivan, Peabody Family Liaison. All stories should be submitted by Wednesday, May 17, 2017.

We will collect stories and share them in a ‘larger’ manner as our project comes to a close.

If you have any questions, please contact Traci Vecchiarello.

Sample Story

‘1946’ from Looking Back by Lois Lowry

Bobby Hobaugh lived next door to me, and we sometimes traded comic books. Bobby Hobaugh’s parents were named Lester and Cleo.

My own parents were named Bobby and Katie, which was so boring. I used to wish that my parents were named Lester and Cleo, which seemed sinister and glamorous. I thought my life would surely be more interesting if my parents’ names were not so ordinary.

Another family on our street was named Fickel. One of their daughters was Nancy. She was about my age and often we played together.

Sometimes when my father sat Nancy Fickel, he would say, “There’s that Fancy Nickel.” It was funny a few times, but after a while we got tired of it. He couldn’t seem to stop, though. I bet if my father saw her today, he would say it again. “There’s that Fancy Nickel.”

My mother told me that when she was young, she had a friend named Marcelle Cram. Marcelle Cram’s name was the same spelled backwards. I thought that was absolutely amazing. So did my mother.

I wonder what Marcelle Cram thought.