The Smart Cookie
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
The Smart Cookie by Jory John. When you hear this sound, that means it's time to turn the page. Let's get started. Greetings. I'm a cookie. I live in a bakery on a street corner near a river. Welcome. Sweet straight. Come on in. Sweet cold. Welcome to our little community. It's a warm and supportive place to spend some time. Pretty fantastic. Ey, these days, life is sweet. But my journey wasn't always a cakewalk. When I was younger. I couldn't have imagined fitting in here for a long time. I didn't feel comfortable speaking up or sharing my ideas. I didn't feel like a smart cookie. I wanted to be a cookie who knew all the answers. A cookie who felt confident in a group, a cookie who said, aha, when solving a puzzle like this. Aha. Looking back, I had some trouble in my early days. I went to school in a gingerbread house. Our teacher, Miss Biscotti was kind and patient. When I arrived each morning, she'd wave at me and smile. Good morning cookie. But I didn't get the best grades. I never raised my hand because I couldn't think of the answers as fast. As the others and I was the last to finish most tests. It wasn't because I didn't care and it wasn't because I didn't try. Sometimes I'd get distracted and mess up even though I knew the material. Those were the most frustrating moments of all we have. We come on once I misspelled the word dove. That was rough. Another time I added what I meant to subtract a sprinkles. Occasionally we'd have a lesson where I had absolutely no idea what was happening. I just couldn't keep up. I imagined that my desk was a raft and that I was completely lost at sea because that's what it felt like. At night I slept in a cookie jar. I had about six dozen roommates how you live and I call her my way. I'd stay awake and stare out the window and worry sprinkles and it went this way day after day after day. But then something happened that changed everything. Yeah. It all started with a homework assignment, Miss Biscotti requested our attention one afternoon tonight, I would like you to create something completely original. She announced it can be anything you want. Please bring it to class tomorrow, man. Class. Completely original. That was it. There were no further instructions, Miss Biscotti winked at me as I gathered my belongings. I felt like I had a million butterflies in my stomach. Create anything something original do tomorrow. When I got home, I immediately went to work At first I tried a cooking project. The results were half baked. What next? I tried to hammer and nail something. It splintered immediately. Then I tried a, making a sculpture. It was a complete bust. I wondered if I was about to fail yet another assignment. Ha, I was stuck all crumbs. I stared out the window, watched the rain as it hit the river. There was something mesmerizing about the water and how it moved in such a chaotic way, swirling around and around. Yet ultimately figuring out exactly where it needed to go. Suddenly, I had an idea. I decided to write something, an original poem. Yeah, I came up with a title based on how I've been feeling my crummy days after that, the rest of it seemed to fall into place. I wrote and I wrote, I lost track of time. An hour went by in a flash. Uh-huh. I said when I was finished, I couldn't sleep that night, but it wasn't because I was worried, it was because I was excited. I felt like I had really accomplished something. I felt smart. I all have bags under my. The following day, Miss Biscotti asked for volunteers to share what we'd created. One kid showed off his original frosting art. Can a doughnut be cool without a donut hole? Another kid revealed her Sprinkle distribution machine. He doesn't, it was neat seeing how everyone was good at such different things. What the results are natural kill us. Finally, Miss Biscotti turned to me. Would you like to share anything she asked? I got, I thought I'd probably crumble under the pressure. Oh, but I made my way to the front of the classroom. I noticed my hands were shaking, my mouth went dry. This poem is called My crummy Days. I said my voice cracking and then I read it aloud once upon a midnight crumbly. As I spoke. I noticed some kids nodding at certain lines, other kids laughed at parts that were supposed to be funny as I built toward the finale. I felt myself becoming more confident and animated. That has made all the difference. And in the end, everybody clapped and cheered. I promise you this. I'll never ever forget it. Miss Biscotti was beaming. No one. But you could have written that poem. She said it was completely original. I cut the original uh-huh. I had done it. I had created something and shared it with the world. Well, my world at least uh the rest of the day was a blur by recess. I was already planning my next poem. I would call it my sweet morning. Aha. I thought when I came up with the title. Aha. Later that afternoon, Miss Biscotti handed me a note. It said that I should keep on writing no matter what that meant so much to me. School was a bit different. After that, I wasn't so scared to raise my hand or ask a question or share my work. Sure. Some things still don't come as easily for me as they do for others. Uh, sprinkles. But now I know that you can be smart in many different ways. Are you OK? Her songs are not natural scooters. You don't have to have the answers to every question or suddenly be great at everything all at once. You just need a chance to try all kinds of things to find out who you are and what you like to do. As for me, I learned that I can write and I can think up great ideas and I found plenty of other things I'm good at too. I no longer feel lost at sea. It's more like floating down a river. And the best part is there's always more to learn. The pool was absolutely amazing. It was stupendous. It was splendid and buttered my bread and wrapped me up in all those delightful words because we're all smart cookies.