[Continue reading No longer strangers, no longer afraid]]]>

As long as we look out at each other only through the masks of our composure, we are looking through hard eyes. But as the masks drop and we see the suffering and courage and brokenness and deeper dignity underneath, we truly start to respect each other as fellow human beings. ~ F. Scott Peck, The Different Drum

A young Cowichan woman was among the people who signed up for the first storytelling class I taught after moving to Vancouver Island. The class was being held on her people’s traditional territory, long ago lost to colonizers.

For the first three sessions she sat quietly. Although she participated in the exercises and group work, she did so hesitantly. Still, she kept coming back.

Our stories are like the florets that make up a dandelion's sunny head; each contributes to the beauty of the whole.

As she quietly but confidently told her story, she changed for us. She was no longer the nearly invisible young woman on the edge of the group. The gift of her story, painful though it was, was like opening a box. Suddenly we saw the treasure that lay within.

Her story was both personal and universal.

In the years since then, I have heard many more stories of the residential school system whose agenda was bluntly articulated by Sir Duncan Campbell Scott: “Our objective is to continue until there is not a single Indian in Canada that has not been absorbed into the body politic, and there is no Indian problem.”

At the time the system was developed, Scott was head of the Department of Indian Affairs. He is often quoted as saying the purpose of the schools was “to take the Indian out of the Indian.”

The wounds from this government-supported initiative to erase cultures, languages, and the very essence of identity run deep. Canada is not alone in being slow and inadequate in understanding why such awful wounding is not something people can simply “get over and move on”.

The young Cowichan woman’s story was an important part of the education of a small group of storytelling students. It’s harder to hang onto the sense of Otherness that divides us when we listen to each others’ stories with an open heart.

I found

[Continue reading Video conversations tap storytelling techniques]]]> Friends of the Earth have created a very powerful short plea for the “men in suits” to act on what they already know to avert disaster due to climate change. Using a child as narrator and some clever visual storytelling, the video is a graphic summary of the problem and the need for urgency.

I found this through a new Twitter friend, Nick Kellet. He’s CMO and Product Strategist for HuStream, a company that “mixes human psychology video wizardry and web-based technology to redefine viewer engagement.” Browsing around their site gave me all kinds of ideas for using storytelling for promoting, informing and inspiring.

One very exciting example is a “video conversation” that features children from a school that raised $16,000 for a project called “Free the Children“. A second example is a promo video for Isagenix’s Beyond Courage personal development retreat.

There are lots more good examples on the Friends of the Earth YouTube Channel and on HuStream. Have to say I’m proud to know the latter is a company right here in my own home town of Kelowna, British Columbia.

Some of the dozens of journals and notebooks I haul with me every

[Continue reading In it for the long haul]]]> As I’m wont to do when my partner is away, I was up late last night, working on the computer until my eyes crossed. I remembered too late there was a program I’d wanted to watch but picked up the remote anyway.

Some of the dozens of journals and notebooks I haul with me every time I move

I lucked onto a short documentary on William Stafford. He’s long been one of my favorite poets. I remember the sense of loss I felt when he died. I still have a bright memory of a reading he did at Seattle’s Elliott Bay Book Company, as well as the books I bought that night.

The quote below slipped by too quickly in the documentary. I caught most of the first sentence, none of the second.

Fortunately, a retired pastor, Muriel T. Stackley, knew the whole quote and posted it in an essay on the Mennonite Weekly Review. She wrote: “This comes from a 1990 lecture at Bluffton University in Ohio, drawing on notes from Stafford’s four years in camps for conscientious objectors to war.”

I’m posting the quote for three reasons:

• I’ll need to re-read it now and then. Maybe I’ll even memorize it and pull it out of my mental hat next time someone asks questions that show they’re mystified by my spending so much time on blogs that don’t add coins to my coffers.
• I have decades of journals and letters that I haul with me whenever I move. Not every entry or letter is worth saving, but many are, at least while I’m alive to enjoy them.
• In mining those journals and letters for stories to share on the blogs, I’m re-visiting my life. There are passages painful to read, but mostly I look back with gratitude at all I’ve experienced.

Keep a journal, and don’t assume that your work has to accomplish anything worthy. Artists and peace workers are in it for the long haul and not to be judged by immediate results. Redemption comes with care. In our culture we can oppose but not subvert. Openness is part of our technique. ~ William Stafford

Her quest led her to Servant of Chaos and the presentation Gavin Heaton created to train young citizen journalists how to tell stories

[Continue reading Teaching storytelling with a story]]]> Kathy Hansen has been searching for the Holy Grail of storytelling in presentations. You can follow the search in her excellent blog, A Storied Career. Today she thinks maybe she has found it.

Her quest led her to Servant of Chaos and the presentation Gavin Heaton created to train young citizen journalists how to tell stories with social media.

“Storytelling for Social Media” begins with the story of a girl who wrote a message on a balloon: “Please return to Laura Buxton.” The balloon’s flight sets in motion an astonishing chain of circumstances that Heaton uses to show how social media can be used in “creating the coincidences that lead to an emotional connection.”

You can watch the presentation below, but don’t stop there. Heaton’s Web site is a stimulating exploration of a wide variety of trending topics.

[The Mad Men episode he used in the presentation is disabled, but you can still view it online by clicking on this link.]

The ads are no less fun for that. Both tell stories.

[Continue reading Our power to manipulate stories]]]> Computer graphics are so sophisticated these days it’s hard to know what’s real and what’s fake. These two videos are clearly in the latter category. No one watching them would believe a squirrel can play hacky sack or a penguin become a table tennis whiz.

The ads are no less fun for that. Both tell stories. Both are engaging. Whether or not they are effective in selling beer is something only Carlsberg knows. The first video shows the two ads. The second shows us how the animators created the squirrel ad.

Our digital world puts the story making in the hands of anyone who can afford a computer, a camera, and editing software. I celebrate that because I believe in the power and importance of creativity.

Story making is in our DNA. We can contribute our unique perspectives without needing a stamp of approval, a publisher, a film or recording studio, or a contract.

Where the issue becomes dicey is where the truth of what we’re seeing counts. Consider health claims on processed foods, safety assurances by chemical companies, and promises from politicians.

Documents can be manipulated. Photographs can be cleverly edited. Sound recordings can be pieced together from clips to make someone say something entirely fictional. Research can be skewed.

I do my best not to add to the confusion. A friend has asked me repeatedly why I insist on tracking down the truth of a story before posting it on my blogs. “You’re a storyteller,” she says. “Why does it matter, if it’s a good story?”

That’s a good question. It matters to me because I get tired of the emotion-manipulating stories that prove to be false. I love fiction and appreciate the craft involved in creating a world that is believable from the first paragraph to the final page. But I don’t appreciate being hoodwinked, and I know that much of what comes to me in print or digital form intends to do just that.

I love the stories I find and that people send for my blogs, and I always check them out before posting them. I cannot give an iron-clad guarantee they are true, but I can guarantee I have done enough sleuthing to have confidence in them.

They express points of view. Everything does, even the most “objective” news report or scientific research or courtroom testimony. But they do not intentionally add to the web of deceit that keeps us from making truly informed decisions.

He gave me two collections of his folktales, in Arabic and French. I translated and

[Continue reading Habra with the lion]]]> In a future post I’ll introduce you to an extraordinary storyteller (alas, no longer with us) I met in Paris years ago. His name was Mohammed bel Halfaoui. He had lived in Paris many years as a professor of Arabic literature.

He gave me two collections of his folktales, in Arabic and French. I translated and published one of the stories before his death. “Man With No Brain” appears in Margaret MacDonald’s Peace Tales: World Folktales to Talk about.

“Habra and the lion” is one of my favorite of Mohammed’s stories, even though North American audiences often find it troubling. Outside North America there seems to be less insistence on happy endings.

The version below retains the story line but eliminates Mohammed’s longer embellishments. Perhaps one day his stories can appear in their entirety. They would be best in Arabic, with their poetry and imagery intact.

Mohammed began the story this way: “Mama Zohra loved this story and enjoyed telling it to us. And as always, the lesson to draw from it was of most importance to her: ‘You must take care not to hurt people’s feelings because the offenses are impossible to forget.’ And that’s why I ask you to listen to the adventure of Habra with the lion.”

When a couple quarrels

Quarrels can mar any marriage (photo courtesy of Photos8.com)

When a woman quarrels with her husband, she tells him she wants to visit her parents. As a matter of courtesy, he agrees. He accompanies his wife and brings a gift for her parents.

The mother asks the husband to let the young woman spend several days with her. And, of course, he agrees again.

After two or three days, the husband expects his wife to come home. She wants to teach him a lesson and to make him more circumspect next time.

Soon the husband relents. He sends “go-betweens”, prominent, older people who are respected in the community. He sends gifts.

Most often, that’s all the wife was waiting for. Didn’t God say in the Sacred Book, “Reconciliation is preferable”?

Only, in our story, the woman had neither father nor mother, not even an older brother. How could she teach her insolent husband a lesson?

Hospitality in the forest

The lion was lying before his den (African lion Tanzania courtesy of Photo8.com)

Her servant, Habra, found the solution. “Mistress, let’s go to the lion, king of the forest. He is know for his generosity and discretion.”

The wife wrapped herself in her cloak, as did her servant, and they went to the lion.

When he heard their request for hospitality, he replied, “Marhaba! (Welcome!) You do me honor. Come in! My house is yours.”

They moved into the den of the hospitable lion. Every day he went hunting and brought them choice game. He placed it before the entry, then withdrew. He watched over them and protected his guests.

The husband sends a go-between

The husband wanted his wife to return. As go-between he chose the Taleb, the person who knows the Koran by heart.

The Taleb said, “It is no use being proud. Your wife deserves this effort. Have you thought of gifts?”

“Yes, here is a length of silk for a robe and also something for the servant, for she is loyal to her mistress. My wife will understand that I truly desire the reconciliation recommended by God.”

The Taleb promised to do whatever was necessary as go-between. Gifts in his arms, he walked toward the forest.

The Taleb intercedes

The lion greeted the Taleb (photo courtesy of Photos8.com)

He greeted the lion, who lay before the entry. “God’s guest, your lordship.”

“You are welcome, marhaba. What may I do for you?”

“It is not for me but for the husband of the woman you have so generously received, as well as her servant. The husband is desperate because his wife seems in no hurry to return. Because she is under your protection, he wishes to convince you of his good intentions and, above all, of his remorse. He promises that nothing of the sort will happen again, in cha-allah!”

“Honorable Taleb, your intercession is a great honor, but my guest must decide, on her own, at her leisure. For if it is my duty to desire the reconciliation of spouses, my duty of hospitality is equally sacred.”

The young wife returns

The young wife had been waiting for her husband’s first gesture. She wanted to return to him as quickly as possible. She thanked the lion for his gracious reception and the respect and consideration he had had for her and her servant. She covered herself with her veil, as did her servant.

When they came out, the Taleb, bowing his head, gave her the gifts and signaled that he would walk ahead of them to her husband’s house.

They said farewell to the lion, and the three of them walked cheerfully toward the house where the husband waited, with as much impatience as you can imagine.

A cloud over the celebration

Such a celebration! A whole roast sheep and a marvelous couscous—a feast—for the wife, the husband, and even the neighbors.

After the couscous and the barbecue came mint tea and cakes. The conversation was lively and happy. The wife praised the virtues of the lion, his discretion and the respect he always showed his guests.

She didn’t know King Lion was listening behind the tent. He wanted to savor the compliments he was sure his dear guests would shower on him.

But it was not an unclouded joy. The servant had a few reservations.

“May God reward him a hundredfold. He was so magnificent, so good, so respectful. If only, how shall I say this…He gives off such a terrible odor one has to hold one’s breath. On top of that, sometimes he breaks wind, a little as if someone had broken a dozen rotten eggs a few steps way. Of course, there’s nothing he can do about it. It’s his nature, and nothing will make us forget his kindness!”

The lion’s difficult request

The lion was wounded. He returned home reeling from the shock.

The next day he met Habra in the forest. She had come to cut wood, as usual.

“Oh, good day, Your Majesty! What a joy to see you again and to thank you once more!”

"Habra, has my wound healed?" (Photo courtesy of Photos8.com)

“Good day, Habra! What are you holding in your hand?”

“Well, Your Majesty, it’s the hatchet for cutting wood!”

“Ah, yes. Then I would like for you to give me a little blow between the eyes.”

“After all your kindnesses, Sidi [a term of respect]? You must be joking?”

“Oh, no, Habra, I am completely serious. There, right between the eyes, a good little blow. I would like to see the blood flowing!”

“Forgive me. I couldn’t.”

“Habra! It is an order! Go ahead, strike me! If you don’t…” His flashing eyes made the poor girl shiver. “Quickly, Habra! I am in a hurry! And your masters await you return. Go ahead, it will be quickly done, quickly forgotten!”

Deeply distressed, she slowly raised her hachet…and gave…oh, just a little blow, there, between the eyes, as his majesty has insisted.

When she tried to wipe away the blood, he gently pushed her away. “No, no, it’s all right. You may go cut your wood.”

When the spirit is wounded

They parted, but from that day on, the lion met Habra from time to time, as if by chance, and asked, “Has my little wound healed?”

“Oh, no, Sidi. I would like to see the earth open beneath my feet, so that I might no longer blush to see the mark of my ingratitude!”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing. Goodbye, Habra.”

For several weeks Habra’s trial continued. The lion lay in wait, and he always asked the same question, “Has my wound healed?”

“Oh, Sidi, not yet.”

“It’s nothing. You’ll see. It will heal.”

“That is my dearest wish.”

“There now, don’t worry so about me. Go about your business.”

One day the lion met Habra as usual, “Has my wound healed?”

“Oh, at last! Yes, Sidi, I am so happy! It has completely healed over.”

“Ah, yes, Habra, you see! Everything can heal, when it is a question of the body. But wounds to the heart never heal, even though no one sees them.”

And he pounced on her and devoured her.

I’m not sure what she thought a

[Continue reading Out of the mouths of babes]]]> When I stepped off the train in Ludwigsburg, I could read disappointment in the eyes of a six-year-old who had come with her mother to pick up the visiting storyteller. I was touring American military schools, and this night I was to be a guest in the child’s home.

I’m not sure what she thought a storyteller would look like. I’m pretty sure she didn’t expect an ordinary, middle-aged woman.

We walked to a café in the town square and ordered lunch. While we adults chatted easily, the little girl sat silent, wrapped in her disillusionment.

It was a cool day. The child was shivering. I offered her some of my hot soup. She took a few spoonsful. Then she looked me in the eye.

I could see something shift. “Do you want to hear a story?” she asked.

For the next thirty minutes she spun one story after another. Her mother was stunned. I was enchanted.

It turned out her babysitter had been reading folktales to her. The child had memorized her favorites and told them flawlessly. She was completely caught up in Rapunzel’s dilemma, Blue Beard’s treachery, and the menace of Baba Yaga. So were we.

The video below makes me think of that talented little storyteller. Capucine is French and is a brilliant, natural storyteller. The video her mother made of her at the age of four was so popular she decided to use it to support education for children in Mongolia. You can still contribute to the cause at Capucine’s Library (which also has a video of the little munchkin, pitching for donations so Mongolian children can read and have books).

Once upon a time… from Capucha on Vimeo.

What so successfully bypasses my normal resistance is the stories. In this series of ads we people separated

[Continue reading Tugging the heart with an ad story]]]> I generally consider myself fairly immune to advertising, but the ads for Apple’s FaceTime app for iPhone4 makes me want to run right out and buy this smart phone. And I don’t even carry a cell phone.

What so successfully bypasses my normal resistance is the stories. In this series of ads we people separated by distance who are connecting via FaceTime. A young woman tells her delighted husband he is going to be a dad. A new grandfather sees his son’s baby for the first time. The father of a teen with new braces gets her to crack a smile. A boyfriend reassures his girlfriend her new haircut is cute. And a series of people missing each other get to see and talk to the people they love.

Each small vignette is a piece of a larger story, and every one of them tugged at my heart.

Using stories to sell products is nothing new, but occasionally an ad campaign comes along that uses them particularly effectively. These Apple ads are in that category.

I’m not going to run out and buy an iPhone4. After all, FaceTime only works if the person you want to talk with also has Apple’s latest smart phone and the FaceTime app.

But I’m tempted.

Here are eight of the stories people have created to make sense of the senseless.

[Continue reading Narrating the Gulf oil spill]]]> I’m noticing the different ways people are choosing to tell the story of the oil spill. There are no edges to the disaster. Even the beginning has spiky fingers. How do we deal with oil-soaked birds, dying turtles, the shattered lives?

Here are eight of the stories people have created to make sense of the senseless. Some are serious attempts to come to grips with the consequences of the spill. Some are parodies. One is a conspiracy theory.

Vancouver photographer Kris Krug was hired by National Geographic but was able to share his photos on Flickr’s Creative Commons so that people everywhere could use them to tell the story of what happened and what must be done.

CBS tells the story of the human cost of the spill through the suicide of lifelong charter fishing Captain Allen Kruse.

UCB’s Comedy Channel chooses parody to tell the story: “When BP spills coffee”.

The BP Oil Spill Chronicles is a news mashup that points fingers in all directions.

RTAmerica video blows the whistle on BP, telling the story of “A culture of neglect driven by penny pinching”.

Tremendous News uses cats to tell the BP story.

Russia Today focuses this story on the “wildlife apocalypse”.

One of the strangest stories is attributed to an “unknown online entity”, claiming the whole thing is an illusion.

I was prompted by the question so many children asked when I told stories in schools, “Is that true?” I finally settled on this answer: “All

[Continue reading Storytelling and science]]]> It’s been two decades since I copied the quotation below from Jim Nollman’s book, Spiritual Ecology. At the time I wrote it down, I substituted “storyteller” for “artist”.

I was prompted by the question so many children asked when I told stories in schools, “Is that true?” I finally settled on this answer: “All of my stories are true, but not everything in my stories happened.”

That always seemed to satisfy the young questioners. They grasped intuitively what adults often seem to forget, that we can find truth in a dance, a painting, a story, a poem. It’s not a truth that can be counted, nor an experience that is suited to experimental processes.

But then, frankly, neither is the physical world scientists subject to measurements. Scientific research starts with a hypothesis, which is, in a sense, a story about the way some substance or process or creature or interaction is expected to behave. Stories start the same way, with speculation about the way people will behave.

Both are influenced by the life experience of the observer, whether scientist or storyteller. Both are subject to the surprise element. Both can be turned on their head when a scientist or storyteller comes at the research or story from an entirely different perspective.

So while I still like this quote, I no longer see the worlds of the scientist and the artist as separate and distinct. Both test hypotheses. Neither can successfully separate from the larger context. Both are essential to our lives.

An artist also asks questions. But instead of utilizing rigor and skepticism to provide experiential answers that exist in a direct causal relationship to those questions, he or she focuses upon a medium that provides the experience directly. The artist works to convey a perceptual message in a manner that requires no operational definitions and no rigid rules of correspondence to expel the subjective perception of his or her own consciousness. And whereas a scientist thrives on absolute answers expressed as numbers, an artist thrives on process. A scientist seeks to expand humanity’s frame of reference; an artist seeks to expand humanity’s depth of insight. ~ Jim Nollman, Spiritual Ecology