So, I’ve been doing this blog thing for about a year now, and I never really thought about why, other than the obvious reasons. I love writing, I always have, and the one thing that a writer can’t get enough of is an audience. It’s the most blatant and embarrassing form of egotism in my life and I’m a little ashamed of myself every time I post a blog, but I can’t help it. Some women are proud of their breasts and they push them out there for the world to see on a daily basis. I guess this is just my version of that. My blog is like a giant push-up bra for my thoughts. All I want is for people to look at them and maybe even react a little.
I realized that my blog doesn’t have a mission statement, which is fine. Push-up bras don’t have them either. But, I kind of wanted to write one anyway. So here it goes.
One of my favorite things about people is that they are storytellers. In college I took two classes about the art of storytelling, both with one of the best teachers I’ve ever met, Thomas McGowan. One was a class called Modern Studies that talked about how storytelling is an actual institution with expectations, rules, and culture. It was the most interesting class I took in college, hands down. The second class was called Advanced Folklore that took Modern Studies a little further. Not only was storytelling a worthy subject, it’s an important part of each people group, big and small. The final project for both of these classes was a collecting project where you recorded a storyteller in your life, wrote up a transcription of their story, and then wrote an analysis of them as a storyteller. I studied my grandfather and my mother, two of the best storytellers I know. I’m so thankful for Mr. McGowan’s classes. He forced me to stop and pay attention to the social interactions that I have on a daily basis and what they mean. Most importantly, he forced me to sit down with my grandfather and my mother and really listen to what they were saying and how they were saying it. Every once in a while, I’ll pull out my grandpa's tape and listen to it. I asked him a few questions and suddenly he was telling stories about his experiences in the Korean War, something he never does. And it also seems like the older he gets, the quieter he gets, so I feel very lucky to have that tape.
McGowan’s class changed how I participate in social settings. Ever since Modern Studies, I’ve started paying attention not only to what a person is saying, but how they are saying it and how the people around them are listening. I also think about what the purpose of a story is within the context it’s told. The holiday season has made me realize why I started this whole blog thing, subconsciously. During November and December, people get together with all the groups that they are a member of. This month I have three different Christmas parties I will go to because of the three main groups I am a part of; there will be a party for my work-family, my friend-family, and my family-family. Stories are an important part of a family,group of friends, or a group of people who share a common culture like a work environment. During the holidays when people are sitting around the fire, table, or TV, these stories really start to come out. There are some stories that get told over and over in certain groups, especially if an “outsider” gets to come in. The story is told and the outsider gets a better idea of what the group is about, almost like a little history lesson. This not only helps invite the “outsider” in, but it solidifies the group and reminds the insiders that they are a part of something. They all smile in anticipation, waiting for the climax or punch line of the story that they’ve heard so many times before that subconsciously tells them, “You are home.”
Storytelling also has an interesting place in my daily life since I am a teacher. My students welcome it as a reprieve to whatever academic moment it’s interrupting. If my students start to doze off when we read Oedipus Rex (blasphemy considering the quick and witty 2500 year old banter between Oedipus and Creon…right) all I have to do is ask them to think about a time they’ve said or done something while they were angry that they didn’t really mean. One or two hands will go up; usually the boldest students go first, sharing a story. One story is told and then three, four, five hands go up. The current story teller has reminded another student in the class of a story that they want to tell. In those settings, storytelling almost becomes a competition. After one story has been told, a kid will say, “I’ve got you beat. This guy that my dad works with…” and suddenly people are competing to see who can tell the most shocking, hilarious, or horrific story.
Since I was about 16, I’ve been collecting other people’s stories, as well as my own. When somebody tells a story that is too funny, tragic, beautiful, coincidental or original to not be true, I write it down. I’ve kept a little memo pad in my purse to jot down funny stories that I hear people tell so I don’t forget them. I guess I was a story collector before Mr. McGowan forced me to be, but I didn’t realize it. That’s why I call this my Strange Little Collecting Project. I wanted to collect my own stories since I feel like I have the right to tell those. I always feel bad telling somebody else’s story, like I don’t have the right to because our stories and the way that we tell them make up a huge part of who we are.
Our stories are what make us people, and telling and listening to them can help us understand each other. And that is always a beautiful thing.
I realized that my blog doesn’t have a mission statement, which is fine. Push-up bras don’t have them either. But, I kind of wanted to write one anyway. So here it goes.
One of my favorite things about people is that they are storytellers. In college I took two classes about the art of storytelling, both with one of the best teachers I’ve ever met, Thomas McGowan. One was a class called Modern Studies that talked about how storytelling is an actual institution with expectations, rules, and culture. It was the most interesting class I took in college, hands down. The second class was called Advanced Folklore that took Modern Studies a little further. Not only was storytelling a worthy subject, it’s an important part of each people group, big and small. The final project for both of these classes was a collecting project where you recorded a storyteller in your life, wrote up a transcription of their story, and then wrote an analysis of them as a storyteller. I studied my grandfather and my mother, two of the best storytellers I know. I’m so thankful for Mr. McGowan’s classes. He forced me to stop and pay attention to the social interactions that I have on a daily basis and what they mean. Most importantly, he forced me to sit down with my grandfather and my mother and really listen to what they were saying and how they were saying it. Every once in a while, I’ll pull out my grandpa's tape and listen to it. I asked him a few questions and suddenly he was telling stories about his experiences in the Korean War, something he never does. And it also seems like the older he gets, the quieter he gets, so I feel very lucky to have that tape.
McGowan’s class changed how I participate in social settings. Ever since Modern Studies, I’ve started paying attention not only to what a person is saying, but how they are saying it and how the people around them are listening. I also think about what the purpose of a story is within the context it’s told. The holiday season has made me realize why I started this whole blog thing, subconsciously. During November and December, people get together with all the groups that they are a member of. This month I have three different Christmas parties I will go to because of the three main groups I am a part of; there will be a party for my work-family, my friend-family, and my family-family. Stories are an important part of a family,group of friends, or a group of people who share a common culture like a work environment. During the holidays when people are sitting around the fire, table, or TV, these stories really start to come out. There are some stories that get told over and over in certain groups, especially if an “outsider” gets to come in. The story is told and the outsider gets a better idea of what the group is about, almost like a little history lesson. This not only helps invite the “outsider” in, but it solidifies the group and reminds the insiders that they are a part of something. They all smile in anticipation, waiting for the climax or punch line of the story that they’ve heard so many times before that subconsciously tells them, “You are home.”
Storytelling also has an interesting place in my daily life since I am a teacher. My students welcome it as a reprieve to whatever academic moment it’s interrupting. If my students start to doze off when we read Oedipus Rex (blasphemy considering the quick and witty 2500 year old banter between Oedipus and Creon…right) all I have to do is ask them to think about a time they’ve said or done something while they were angry that they didn’t really mean. One or two hands will go up; usually the boldest students go first, sharing a story. One story is told and then three, four, five hands go up. The current story teller has reminded another student in the class of a story that they want to tell. In those settings, storytelling almost becomes a competition. After one story has been told, a kid will say, “I’ve got you beat. This guy that my dad works with…” and suddenly people are competing to see who can tell the most shocking, hilarious, or horrific story.
Since I was about 16, I’ve been collecting other people’s stories, as well as my own. When somebody tells a story that is too funny, tragic, beautiful, coincidental or original to not be true, I write it down. I’ve kept a little memo pad in my purse to jot down funny stories that I hear people tell so I don’t forget them. I guess I was a story collector before Mr. McGowan forced me to be, but I didn’t realize it. That’s why I call this my Strange Little Collecting Project. I wanted to collect my own stories since I feel like I have the right to tell those. I always feel bad telling somebody else’s story, like I don’t have the right to because our stories and the way that we tell them make up a huge part of who we are.
Our stories are what make us people, and telling and listening to them can help us understand each other. And that is always a beautiful thing.
Loves it. I come at stories from a different perspective so I loved hearing how you view them! I come at 'em from the 'history' perspective, a variation I think on cultural studies. I look at stories after they've past; you look at them in the past and present. Either way, stories are amazing and I for one, can't get enough. So please keep sharing yours :)
ReplyDeleteyou'll be happy to know that one of my favorite and most lasting stories from my time in DC involves your visit, a near trampling, and the most bizarre music i've ever encountered live. love you
ReplyDelete