Showing posts with label Oral History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Oral History. Show all posts

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Listening - the StoryCorps Gift Idea

Originally Posted on the Common Threads Blog,
Centre Daily Times, November 18, 2008


I was intrigued when I heard the concept of the National Day of Listening, on NPR.

Thanks to Google, I soon found out about StoryCorps, a nonprofit organization, that has declared November 28, 2008 the first annual National Day of Listening.

StoryCorps was founded to help Americans record their stories, thereby preserving Ourstories - not just the histories of our leaders, but the history of common people. StoryCorps booths have been set up in different geographical locations.

They are also being used to capture the specific history of groups dispersed across the country – some examples of these are of people affected by 9/11, African Americans and even those who are losing their memory to diseases like Alzheimer’s.

As I read about StoryCorps, I thought of their slogan of “Listening is the greatest gift.” Of course, each of us has a story. And that story can be discovered only when someone else takes the time to both ask questions and to listen.

To the grandparent that lived through a recession, or a war, and the one that did not do either. To the parent that had a fairy tale childhood and the one that did not. To the aunt that broke barriers and the one that did not. To the uncle that was scarred by the death of a sibling, and the one that did not live up to his potential.

Each one of us has a story, a story of being defined by the details of the particular cards that are dealt to us. And our lives are but a collection of the memories that make up our story, as we respond to these specific cards.

Our memories can also create and affect the history of the others that wander into our lives, and into whose lives we wander. They can empower them or affect them negatively – but they certainly can teach them about the lessons of possibilities, about forks in the road, about choices made, and journeys undertaken.

More importantly, though, listening to each other’s stories creates bonds, and we are no longer strangers. Both participants gain value to their lives by the act of speaking and listening with empathy. And bit by bit, like “The Little Prince,” we may begin to care, and may even understand - both the meaning of their lives and that of ours.

This National Day of Listening is a good thing. I do not plan to rent the StoryCorps kit, but I certainly like the idea of practicing more listening in my life. More active listening to my daughter and the rest of my family, my friends and my acquaintances – that would be the first step. We all seem to run around in our own little worlds, and I know that even if I have the inclination, making the time for it would be a very hard challenge.

But I plan to try, and once I do more of this, perhaps actively “listening” to strangers would also come more naturally to me – and the precarious world we live in today could certainly use more of the empathy that would come with such interactions.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

The Power of an Ashley Bryan Experience

The Power of an Ashley Bryan Experience
Originally Posted in the Common Threads Blog on July 4th, 2007
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This past Friday, I was at Schlow library, thanks to a poetry phase my daughter is enjoying.

We went there to listen to award winning poet, illustrator and teacher Ashley Bryan, who transformed the place with the power of his presence and his performance

My parents, daughter and I sat enthralled as Ashley Bryan got the entire audience to repeat Langston Hughes’ poem “My people.” The room resonated with our pride in the beauty of our individual identities.

After that, he introduced many poems – by himself and others like Langston Hughes and Nikki Giovanni.

Some were based on folktales from other lands, and some described moments in ordinary lives. As we repeated the poems, in different beats and rhythms, he guided us to find the poet’s voice, accent and experience. And in doing so, we found our own voices, in the commonality and pride of all our experiences.

I am so thankful for the magic of that hour with Ashley Bryan.

I later researched his work – and discovered a man who had been nourished by the act of storytelling in his family and community. A man who loves books and art. A man whose work fosters pride in the self, supports learning our individual, family and community histories, and creates respect for other people’s histories.

This encounter with Ashley Bryan has reminded me to cherish the ongoing storytelling in my family – to treasure the memories and stories of our family and pass them on. To take pride in our history and culture, while respecting other ways of living.

And summer is usually family time for us, when we visit extended family or they visit us.

We share stories of the past year and create the tapestry of individual and collective memories that makes us who we are; we share our interests and expand our horizons.

A sad moment gets put into perspective, and funny events get shared again and again for more laughs. The stories themselves achieve mythical proportions, defining who we are and where we came from, giving us lessons, experiences and benchmarks for the future.

And as we share stories of the past, our present time together creates new memories for the summers to come