Today I have struggled with how to write a personal 'truth' in a respectful and ethical way. At the very start of writing up my thesis I only wrote in full story mode; all of my case studies had a fairytale version of their lives and their referring schools had the same. Although none of these fairytales made it into the thesis plan, they served a purpose in giving me a chance to understand what narrative I was trying to put across.
A while ago I attempted to make sense of an issue in my reality by expressing my experiences in story form. I like the fairytale form and, as a child, adored the Ladybird book version of 'The Elves and the Shoemaker'. These early literary experiences shape us and I love the fact that my 6 year old prefers Ladybird books (with dates ranging from 1950-1985) to the brighter and bolder modern books he has. His choice of reading materials on our holiday this year was dominated by Ladybird books: 'The Shipbuilders' (1969), 'Baby Jesus' 1969) ,and 'A Trap for He-Man' (1983). So influenced by classic Ladybird books I attempted to tell a truth through a story.
The Snowglobe
In a northern town there was a little toy shop that time had forgotten. It had once been a success and had been a vibrant and dynamic place to be. Yet time had moved on around it leaving it isolated and gradually falling into a slow but inevitable decay. Inside the little shop there were a multitude of dusty shelves decorated with delicate filigree tinsel cobwebs and a layer of gentle dust. The air rarely moved due to the lack of visitors opening the door so the sweet smell of decay hung in the air. The shop was run by a wizened shrunken man who had inherited the shop from his father and grandfather before him. He did not mind that the shop had lost its appeal as he was close to the end of his allotted days and was happy with his memories. He was looking forward to the calm sleep of death and so had left the shop to the passing of time. On one shelf in a darkened corner of the shop was a large snow globe with a glass dome. The scene inside was of a small village in the midst of delicate winter snow. The village was a collection of tiny red brick houses and businesses on a wide main road surrounded by a hint of fields. A pub with its proud sign 'The Three Tuns' hanging above its tiny wooden door stood at the end of the road. The road led up to a church with a Christmas tree by the main door decorated with miniature baubles. Next to the church was a school with the carved stones indicating the entrances for boys and girls. The snow globe had been made by hand although even the old shop owner would not have been able to say when. In the past it had been gently handled by small children who would shake the orb and watch the snow flakes fall. Yet it had sat in splendid isolation for many years leaving the snow to lie in a permanent covering on the village.
Yet this isolation was not all to be viewed with pity or regret for in the village there lived a whole world full of minuscule creatures resembling tiny human beings. If you had managed to catch one in your hands you would have fleetingly seen a tiny human although human they were not. Yet as you had tried to focus on their impish face you would have suddenly realised that you were staring at an empty space for the creatures were masters at the art of being elusive. At some point in the history of the globe they had evolved but from where and when was unclear and although they had only lived in the globe for a few decades of human time they had lived there for generations of their own. These creatures had only every known the joy of living in a constant Christmas Eve and life for them was familiar and purposeful living their daily lives following routines and patterns which they knew inside out. To an outsider they might have been seen as bizarre yet the villagers knew they were successful at what they did. Of course they were aware of the world beyond their glass heaven. They had seen the passing of time in the shop and noticed the changes that periodically occurred. Yet they were happy with their place in the order of the world and did not question their fortunes (or misfortunes) instead accepting them as part of the natural order.
However events were to transpire that would change the world of the snow dome forever. In the distant world outside the shop, far removed from the snow dome village, the world was changing. The town long left in decline had been slowly having a revival of its fortunes. Money had begun to pour into the streets with new estates popping up like mushrooms in September fields. New businesses had taken over decrepit buildings and the wave of renewal was banging on the shutters of the toy shop itself. The old man heard the clamour and, with surprising dexterity, he moved to open the door and let the modernity in. The offer he was made for the shop would allow him to end his days well so he handed over the keys leaving all of the unsold toys as future stock for the new owner. So the snow globe sat on the dusty shelf while all of the external world shifted and changed. It barely noticed the changes at first as they happened too far away in the distant outside world. Yet gradually the changes moved closer and closer and the inhabitants of the snow globe felt the first tremors. It was on one sunny winter morning that the fallen snow in the globe moved for the first time. The tiny people were used to moving the snow themselves as the powdery dust was often in the way of doors and gates. Yet the snow has never moved itself nor had the ground shifted under their feet. The disturbance caused a few rumbles of contention and murmurings but little else. The cause, unbeknown to the villagers, was the arrival of the shop fitters who had torn down the old sign and replaced it with a modern shiny one at the request of the new owner.
After a few days the shop fitters returned but this time to do the inside of the building. Three bullish men arrived in their large white van crammed full of equipment and empty food wrappers. Although it was early in the morning they cared little for the needs of any local residents living in the flats above the shops as their radio blared out music and they loudly shared their stories about last night. One would have assumed that the noise alone would have given the tiny inhabitants of the globe an advanced warning but whilst this was all going on they were huddled in the school hall debating the shifting of the snow with raised voices. The first day came and went with little further upheaval. On the second day the noise was even worse and the villagers could not escape the shouts and bangs. The tiny humans felt that this must surely be a sign of the end of the world. A few members had started to raise their heads as leaders of one faction or another and were gathering their respective flocks and banding around their own propaganda. Yet it was not until the third day that the shop fitters started to clear out the existing stock in the shop. They had been told to salvage any toy that was complete to make a display for the shop window; a retro look at toys which was so current in the era of obsession with anything vintage. It was then that the snow dome was seen hiding in its unspoilt corner of the toy shop kingdom. One of the workmen, a man in the middle of his years, walked over to the world and picked it up. His mind was flooded with images of his own past, a holiday to Blackpool and the purchasing of a snow globe complete with tiny Blackpool tower. As he picked it up and shook it, the villages screamed and clung to the furniture as best they could. Cries rang out begging the earthquake and snow storm to stop and finally it did. The villagers caught their breath and started to come to terms with how their world had changed. At the same time the shop fitters colleague questioned what the first man was doing so he showed him his find. He too marvelled at the dome recalling one similar that had sat on his grandmother's shelf. He reached out and took hold of the globe and instinctively shook it. Again the villagers grabbed onto each other and the remnants of their lives. Again they stumbled and fell. The workmen, clearly proud of their find, moved the globe to sit on the desk next to the till and carried on with their labours.
The residents caught their collective breath and stumbled outside into the village. They saw their world literally turned upside down. Where as previously the snow had lain in an even layer, a gentle dusting, it now stood piled up against doors blocking access to houses and shops. The snow had formed drifts that covered gardens and gravestones wrapping them in a blanket of pure white. They huddled in small groups and tried to support each other as best they could although the sound of crying crossed the generations. Some listened to the advice of the main ringleaders seeking solace in their confidence whilst others listened to rumour mongers and gossips apportioning blame to community leaders who should had acted quicker, faster, more decisively. All in all there was a feeling of chaos and a hint of revolution in the air. One voice rose louder than the others, that of the priest. He realised that people needed to rally together instead of unravelling like a jumper caught on a hidden nail. Order. The village needed order. With patience he heard the varying opinions yet suggested that the time could wait for such discussions as there were more pressing actions such as the shovelling of snow and checking for damage to property. So the villagers, heeding the priest's call, formed working groups and set about rebuilding their world.
Meanwhile in the outer lands the new owner moved in. Boxes of toys arrived wrapped in a nest of bubbles and styrofoam peanuts and soon the floor of the shop mimicked the interior of the globe. The new owner stacked the shelves with the latest toys but as the day was drawing in he abandoned the task half done not even noticing the globe sat next to the till and card reader. Before he turned the light off he surveyed his world with pride. He was in the process of turning the crumbling shop into a modern flourishing business. The old world was being swept away. He left and pressed the switch plunging the room into darkness. The following morning he arrived ready to finish the project as opening day was fast approaching. Most of the main shelving was in place and the front window display was tantalising with its collection of vintage toys set in front of a back drop of cartoon style words such as 'kapow', and 'zoom'. Tiny windows, about the same size as a paperback novel, gave glimpses of the delights to be found inside and as they were arranged at a variety of heights both children and those with a childish spirit could see into the cavernous interior. The owner viewed his world and felt a deep peace. At that moment he noticed the snow dome by the till. Although he liked snow domes he pondered if they really counted as toys. It was certainly out of place surrounded by the modernity of electronic gadgets soon to be on sale. Something had to be done and he decided that this was his next task.
Inside the dome the villagers had created some sort of order. The priest had organised working groups each with a specific job to complete. A steering group had been formed to act like a primitive town council and the people felt that they had ridden out the worst of it. Their lives were full of hope. Yet it was one of the youngest members of the community who pointed out that the view of the outer world had changed dramatically. Until then they had all been so distracted by their own basic needs that they had not considered looking beyond. Yet the child, bored by the adults and their conversation, had wandered to the edge of the glass and starred into the great void. His shouts had alerted the adults and now the whole village was staring at the glass and saw the approaching figure looming over them. They ran for cover where ever they could and screamed in terror as again their world shifted around them. Nothing had prepared them for this, to again be unable to control a world previously so safe and secure. When the violence eventually stopped the villagers again gathered in the school but this time all sense of hope was gone.
The owner placed the dome back down and looked at it again with a frown. He could not bare to throw it away so he decided to incorporate it into his toy shop plan. He turned the computer on and quickly made a sign and printed it out. Sticking it above the globe, he returned to more pressing tasks. As a temporary peace returned to the village, the tiny people wandered outside to take in the new changes. They were beginning to accept that the insular ordered world they had known had gone forever. No longer would they be in control of their small piece of the universe. No longer would they live an autonomous existence. They lived at the whim and wish of others and would never be able to predict the future with any of the certainty they had in the past. As the priest again tried to restore order to the village, and the varying factions split to discuss and ponder their future, the little boy slowly plodded to peer through the expanse of glass. Looking up he saw the sign the owner had printed out and stuck on the wall: 'The past is another country. They do things differently there'.
