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people and stories / gente y cuentos | |
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en
NEWS
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“I know what the two secret words are,” said Doña Carmen with confidence as we discussed the story “Dos Palabras” (“Two Words”) by Isabel Allende during a Gente y Cuentos session at P.S. 9 during the winter of 2008. These story sessions were woven into the curriculum of the basic literacy in Spanish class at the Bronx Family Welcome Center, a program of the New York City Department of Education’s Office of Adult and Continuing Education. As a bilingual resource specialist for the NYS Spanish BETAC, I came representing Gente y Cuentos to introduce short stories in Spanish to the adult students. The class comprised Latino adults from age 21 to 78 who were in school—many of them for the first time—to learn to read and write in Spanish. All were native Spanish speakers. Most had less than two years of formal education, and the class was helping them learn the alphabet, write their names and read simple texts. For most, it was the first time they had heard stories from the “greats” of Latin American literature: García Márquez, Isabel Allende, Ana Maria Matute and others. They looked forward with anticipation to each session, greeting me with kisses and hugs when I arrived in the room each week. Lively discussions ensued as they analyzed the stories with depth and wisdom, despite the fact that most could only listen and not decode the text. Doña Carmen’s comment referred to the two secret words that Belisa Crepusculario, the “seller of words,” gave as a bonus to her client, the dangerous and feared Coronel, who sought to lay down his weapons and begin a new life as a politician. Her two words haunted him until he was distraught, distracted and unable to focus. To me, it was obvious what the two secret words must have been to plague the fearsome man into a lovesick frenzy. I asked the students what they thought. Seventy-eight-year-old Doña Carmen was quick to speak. “The two words,” she began with great drama in her voice, “I know for certain. They were: Outside you are hard as stone, but inside you are soft as a lamb. Those are the two words.” I was silent for a moment. There were general murmurs of agreement, vehement nods and vocal support: “Yes, yes, those were the two words exactly.” Doña Carmen, though she was not able to read the story on her own, was able to do what lovers of literature do, bring herself and her wisdom to the text and make meaning of it. Later, another student said, “That story is the story of my life. Love caused me to change my life.” The group had broken through any inhibitions about reading to get to the essence of good literature—helping us to understand ourselves. |