Thursday, 12 May 2011
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Truth in being
I thought I understood the concept of "being in the moment", although I found it pretty tricky to apply to my own life. So, when I enrolled for Vivian Gladwell's clowning workshop, I went there with the expectation to lighten up, to be less serious. To learn how to laugh again.
Everything was there: the red noses, the props, the fun and the laughter, and more, much more than I ever expected. I received precious gifts.
Through movement, illusion, play and the creation of, at times, bizarre metaphors, it is as if I had moved into Alice's Wonderland where the edges of reality became blurred and truth was found in the interaction with others connected in a world of illusion and fluidity.
I knew I would be stretched, my preconceived ideas challenged, but I never imagined how this experience would reconnect me with my own emotions - the ones I thought I had buried away deeply in a safe burrow where they could never haunt me again or ever erode my strength. Little did I know how wobbly my imagined strength was and how transparent my charade of independence was.
For the first time, I really understood how the barriers we build and the walls we put up around us to protect the soft core of our souls are as fragile as an egg shell. I came to understand how the essence and beauty of our lives can only emerge and grow if we allowed the shell to crack, just a little bit at a time. And that the fledgling that emerged would be scraggly, fragile and entirely vulnerable, but in time would grow wings to soar through the air, without shackles to tie it down.
It is not comfortable to see yourself vulnerable, letting strangers into the strongholds of your life, trusting them to respect your vulnerability and to allow you to find out your own truth in your own time. But I learnt how to acknowledge my discomfort and my fears and to trust my being in the moment. I saw the beauty created when people connected with their inner beings, in the fluidity of interrelationships, and when they simply embraced their moment of being.
Those are the gifts I received, which I would treasure for life. And for that I want to thank Vivian Gladwell and my fellow clowns.
Tuesday, 20 July 2010
Saturday, 16 May 2009
Nurturing the gift of storytelling 2
Doug Lipman of Storydynamics.com talks about storytelling being "a dangerous adventure because it tells the truth of what it means to be human". A story, he says, makes us face what someone else has faced. And it makes us acknowledge the truth of what another person has experienced. If we put ourselves into the shoes of someone else - for instance, a person who is being oppressed or victimised by our society - we cannot continue to do what we are doing to them, and still live with ourselves.
I remember being at the dentist's rooms when I was a young child and discrimination against people of colour was still the norm in our country, when an Indian family entered the rooms and stood in the passage instead of sitting down in the waiting room. After some time had passed and the receptionist had not made an attempt to show them to chairs in the waiting room, my mother got up and invited them to sit down with the other patients. They declined and proudly stood in the passage until the dentist called them in.
That made an impression on me. The father of the family was a doctor in our town, and yet, his family was not at liberty to share communal space with the rest of the patients. And they were too proud to accept little crumbs of kindness from a member of an unjust society.
I felt ashamed that day: ashamed to be white and ashamed to be me. But I learnt something, and that is how it feels to be on the other side: to be a member of the oppressing side.
Lipman's words touched me more than he would ever know. His call for action to storytellers is: firstly, to tell the true stories in order to give the victims of injustice back their humanity, and secondly, to tell the story of the effect of injustice to those who belong to the oppressor's side. Because, says he, "every oppression harms everyone".
By nurturing the gift of storytelling, we can bring these stories into the open and share them. It is only through sharing that our nation will be healed.
If you would like to share a story or add a comment to this post, please feel free to do so.
I remember being at the dentist's rooms when I was a young child and discrimination against people of colour was still the norm in our country, when an Indian family entered the rooms and stood in the passage instead of sitting down in the waiting room. After some time had passed and the receptionist had not made an attempt to show them to chairs in the waiting room, my mother got up and invited them to sit down with the other patients. They declined and proudly stood in the passage until the dentist called them in.
That made an impression on me. The father of the family was a doctor in our town, and yet, his family was not at liberty to share communal space with the rest of the patients. And they were too proud to accept little crumbs of kindness from a member of an unjust society.
I felt ashamed that day: ashamed to be white and ashamed to be me. But I learnt something, and that is how it feels to be on the other side: to be a member of the oppressing side.
Lipman's words touched me more than he would ever know. His call for action to storytellers is: firstly, to tell the true stories in order to give the victims of injustice back their humanity, and secondly, to tell the story of the effect of injustice to those who belong to the oppressor's side. Because, says he, "every oppression harms everyone".
By nurturing the gift of storytelling, we can bring these stories into the open and share them. It is only through sharing that our nation will be healed.
If you would like to share a story or add a comment to this post, please feel free to do so.
Monday, 27 April 2009
Nurturing the gift of storytelling 1
On 20 April, I had the privilege to present a workshop to final year Social Work students at the University of the Witwatersrand on the topic of the "narrative method".
While I was doing my research, reading case studies where narrative therapy helped clients create an alternative story to the dominating narrative of their problem, my mind was brimming over with questions about the nature of storytelling and what, exactly, made storytelling the amazing narrative tool it is.
I asked myself what it was in a story that could capture the minds and hearts of both children and adults at the same time; what it was that brought about intuitive understanding of complex human issues - without the use of jargon and analytical models. I also wondered about the magic of metaphor and how it could contribute to healing and the forming of an alternative narrative.
My pondering over these questions took me back to my own childhood, where stories played a dominant role in my development. Where my schoolwork provided me with skills, stories gave me insight into human values and behaviour, spirituality, innovation and strategy. Stories educated me about different cultures of people far removed from Africa, about heroes from the past - in my own and other cultures - and about innovaters, explorers, and both mythical and historical leaders who followed their quests for righteousness. I got to understand the relationship between God and man and the magnitude of the creation. Stories opened up new worlds to me. I learned to observe my own environment and to be inquisitive about things. I learned to ask: "What if..." and "How...", and to look for possibilities instead of accepting the status quo. Stories allowed me entry into the world of imagination where everything was possible and I could be the person I aspired to be:they allowed me to be the hero in my own story.
The ability to tell stories and to learn from them is perhaps the greatest gift that humankind has received and this is a gift that we have to nurture to help us heal ourselves and our world.
While I was doing my research, reading case studies where narrative therapy helped clients create an alternative story to the dominating narrative of their problem, my mind was brimming over with questions about the nature of storytelling and what, exactly, made storytelling the amazing narrative tool it is.
I asked myself what it was in a story that could capture the minds and hearts of both children and adults at the same time; what it was that brought about intuitive understanding of complex human issues - without the use of jargon and analytical models. I also wondered about the magic of metaphor and how it could contribute to healing and the forming of an alternative narrative.
My pondering over these questions took me back to my own childhood, where stories played a dominant role in my development. Where my schoolwork provided me with skills, stories gave me insight into human values and behaviour, spirituality, innovation and strategy. Stories educated me about different cultures of people far removed from Africa, about heroes from the past - in my own and other cultures - and about innovaters, explorers, and both mythical and historical leaders who followed their quests for righteousness. I got to understand the relationship between God and man and the magnitude of the creation. Stories opened up new worlds to me. I learned to observe my own environment and to be inquisitive about things. I learned to ask: "What if..." and "How...", and to look for possibilities instead of accepting the status quo. Stories allowed me entry into the world of imagination where everything was possible and I could be the person I aspired to be:they allowed me to be the hero in my own story.
The ability to tell stories and to learn from them is perhaps the greatest gift that humankind has received and this is a gift that we have to nurture to help us heal ourselves and our world.
Saturday, 28 March 2009
A deep and wonder-ful communion of people
The Johannesburg Storytelling Circe was privileged to host a World Storytelling Day event at Constitution Hill, at the old Women's Prison, on 21 March 2009 (which is South Africa's Human Rights Day). What made this a notable event is the participation of former detainees at the Women's Prison. Their stories made us realise how far South Africa has come as a country.
Constitution Hill, the home of South Africa's Constitutional Court, is steeped in history; it is a place that has seen the brutal abuse of human rights within its walls when it was still the notorious Old Fort Prison Complex. For many who were incarcerated here because they were perpetrators of inhumane racial laws, this was the only home they knew for a long time. Many of South Africa's leading political activists, including global icons for human rights and freedom, Nelson Mandela and Mahatma Ghandi, were detained here. Today, the old Fort Prison Complex is spacious and open, with printed glass panels telling the stories of those who passed through. The atmosphere is tranquil and peaceful - the perfect home for the Constitutional Court, South Africa's protector of human rights.
A comment from one of the former detainees and a participant in the storytelling event, sums up the atmosphere: "Look at the palm trees. It is like a holiday destination. It feels good to come back."
As there were only 12 participants, the event took the form of a dialogue circle, with everybody taking a turn in telling a story on the theme of Neighbours. There was a good mix of true stories with deep and thought-provoking messages, and light and entertaining tales and African chants. To me, the greatest value of this day were the sense of communion between people coming from such diverse backgrounds and with totally different experiences and the enjoyment we shared while learning how to sing chants (a totally new cultural experience for me).
Two of the Johannesburg Storytelling Circle's members commented:
"I was struck afresh at how we all change during the process of storytelling. When we listen, we are transported, we look different, we hold ourselves differently. For that brief time a diverse group of people are held together in a communion that is deep and wonder-ful. A communion that allows us to be free to tell of moments of laughter and of trauma.
"And so it was in the small room that had been the hospital for 'non-White' prisoners, where we are informed of the number of babies that were born there during the grim past. So we too delivered and received creations of joy and sorrow and humour and pain. Once again the power of stories and their telling was demonstrated.
"And we came away different people, having been changed by what we had heard and what we had said."
- Vanessa Bower, coordinator of the Johannesburg Storytelling Circle.
"Nohlanhla Hadebe and Nomusa Mdlalose introduced us to praise chant to be done before storytelling. The caller sings the praises of his/her genealogy and the audience answers with a chanted response. For Anglo-Saxons this is quite a challenge as singing the praises of ourselves and our family line is culturally discouraged. I had a go at it – what an exhilarating experience! It holds the potential of honouring of who we are and who we descend from, and for letting that be seen!"
- Diana Cowen, member of the Johannesburg Storytelling Circle.
This was a hugely successful event with requests for repeated storytelling events from both the former detainees and Constitution Hill Women's Prison management.
For more information about Constitution Hill, please go to: http://www.constitutionhill.org.za/
Constitution Hill, the home of South Africa's Constitutional Court, is steeped in history; it is a place that has seen the brutal abuse of human rights within its walls when it was still the notorious Old Fort Prison Complex. For many who were incarcerated here because they were perpetrators of inhumane racial laws, this was the only home they knew for a long time. Many of South Africa's leading political activists, including global icons for human rights and freedom, Nelson Mandela and Mahatma Ghandi, were detained here. Today, the old Fort Prison Complex is spacious and open, with printed glass panels telling the stories of those who passed through. The atmosphere is tranquil and peaceful - the perfect home for the Constitutional Court, South Africa's protector of human rights.
A comment from one of the former detainees and a participant in the storytelling event, sums up the atmosphere: "Look at the palm trees. It is like a holiday destination. It feels good to come back."
As there were only 12 participants, the event took the form of a dialogue circle, with everybody taking a turn in telling a story on the theme of Neighbours. There was a good mix of true stories with deep and thought-provoking messages, and light and entertaining tales and African chants. To me, the greatest value of this day were the sense of communion between people coming from such diverse backgrounds and with totally different experiences and the enjoyment we shared while learning how to sing chants (a totally new cultural experience for me).
Two of the Johannesburg Storytelling Circle's members commented:
"I was struck afresh at how we all change during the process of storytelling. When we listen, we are transported, we look different, we hold ourselves differently. For that brief time a diverse group of people are held together in a communion that is deep and wonder-ful. A communion that allows us to be free to tell of moments of laughter and of trauma.
"And so it was in the small room that had been the hospital for 'non-White' prisoners, where we are informed of the number of babies that were born there during the grim past. So we too delivered and received creations of joy and sorrow and humour and pain. Once again the power of stories and their telling was demonstrated.
"And we came away different people, having been changed by what we had heard and what we had said."
- Vanessa Bower, coordinator of the Johannesburg Storytelling Circle.
"Nohlanhla Hadebe and Nomusa Mdlalose introduced us to praise chant to be done before storytelling. The caller sings the praises of his/her genealogy and the audience answers with a chanted response. For Anglo-Saxons this is quite a challenge as singing the praises of ourselves and our family line is culturally discouraged. I had a go at it – what an exhilarating experience! It holds the potential of honouring of who we are and who we descend from, and for letting that be seen!"
- Diana Cowen, member of the Johannesburg Storytelling Circle.
This was a hugely successful event with requests for repeated storytelling events from both the former detainees and Constitution Hill Women's Prison management.
For more information about Constitution Hill, please go to: http://www.constitutionhill.org.za/
Friday, 20 March 2009
March madness, time (mis)management and the magic of stories
Is there something like March madness? If there is, I think I was seriously infected this month.
Whether I thought that I was superwoman or just didn't think at all, I can't really remember, but all I know is that I suddenly found myself organising, or being part of the organising team, of: one Greymont Entrepreneurs workshop, two World Storytelling Day events, one Toastmasters Club competition, one World Leadership Day event and a series of speech craft sessions - and all of them happening in the week between 18 and 25 March. To top it all, I also had the audacity to put my name up to compete in our Toastmasters Club contest AND to deliver a demonstration speech at a neighbouring club. The demonstration speech will still happen, but, I'm afraid, my nerves won't stand competing in the contest - especially as I have only half-written the speech! And did I mention that I was also working in between, doing my day-job and attending meetings?
As I doggedly ticked off one task after the other, I asked myself: why? Why did I do this to myself? Did I want to prove anything? Or couldn't I say no? And I found out that I did it because I actually like organising things, and I like performing and creating a space in which people enjoy themselves. But the greatest thing about all of this is that I have found a new speech topic: How NOT to manage your time if you want to live a balanced life. Perhaps I should write a book - that is, if I allow myself the time.
Storytelling is magic
Our first World Storytelling Day event was a roaring success. The event was held at Boekehuis in Aucklandpark, Johannesburg on Thursday, 19th March . Boekehuis is an old house which was converted into a book and coffee shop and has a wonderful, warm bookish atmosphere. We were six storytellers from the Johannesburg Storytelling Circle of which five of us told a story and the sixth one did a puppet show. Gillian Rosenberg, professional voice coach and remedial teacher, set a magical atmosphere with her beautiful rendering of Oscar Wilde's The Selfish Giant. She was followed by Brenda Shafir, a professional storyteller and shadow puppeteer, who told a Welsh tale with the title, Slops. Diana Cowan, a music teacher and storyteller then told Ma Grizzle. I (Susan Williams) followed her with my rendering of Die Geluksklip (The Happiness Stone, aka The Soup Stone), told in Afrikaans, and after me came actress and storyteller Nonhlanhla Hadebe with The Parable of the Eagle, by James Aggrey. Margaret Auerbach, a professional puppeteer, ended the event with her wonderful puppet show, The Magic Ball.
Stories have magical powers. It was proven yet again by yesterday's event. After two hours of listening intently (even the youngest of the children were spellbound and were perfectly well behaved), the atmosphere was laden with positive energy. Complete strangers connected at an intuitive level, eye contact was made and smiles shared. Grown-ups and children shared a space in which everybody enjoyed themselves - and I'm not sure who enjoyed it the most: the children, the grown-ups (some of them came without children to listen to stories) or the storytellers themselves? And then I wonder: why don't we tell more stories? The world would definitely be a more enjoyable place.
Is there something like March madness? If there is, I think I was seriously infected this month.
Whether I thought that I was superwoman or just didn't think at all, I can't really remember, but all I know is that I suddenly found myself organising, or being part of the organising team, of: one Greymont Entrepreneurs workshop, two World Storytelling Day events, one Toastmasters Club competition, one World Leadership Day event and a series of speech craft sessions - and all of them happening in the week between 18 and 25 March. To top it all, I also had the audacity to put my name up to compete in our Toastmasters Club contest AND to deliver a demonstration speech at a neighbouring club. The demonstration speech will still happen, but, I'm afraid, my nerves won't stand competing in the contest - especially as I have only half-written the speech! And did I mention that I was also working in between, doing my day-job and attending meetings?
As I doggedly ticked off one task after the other, I asked myself: why? Why did I do this to myself? Did I want to prove anything? Or couldn't I say no? And I found out that I did it because I actually like organising things, and I like performing and creating a space in which people enjoy themselves. But the greatest thing about all of this is that I have found a new speech topic: How NOT to manage your time if you want to live a balanced life. Perhaps I should write a book - that is, if I allow myself the time.
Storytelling is magic
Our first World Storytelling Day event was a roaring success. The event was held at Boekehuis in Aucklandpark, Johannesburg on Thursday, 19th March . Boekehuis is an old house which was converted into a book and coffee shop and has a wonderful, warm bookish atmosphere. We were six storytellers from the Johannesburg Storytelling Circle of which five of us told a story and the sixth one did a puppet show. Gillian Rosenberg, professional voice coach and remedial teacher, set a magical atmosphere with her beautiful rendering of Oscar Wilde's The Selfish Giant. She was followed by Brenda Shafir, a professional storyteller and shadow puppeteer, who told a Welsh tale with the title, Slops. Diana Cowan, a music teacher and storyteller then told Ma Grizzle. I (Susan Williams) followed her with my rendering of Die Geluksklip (The Happiness Stone, aka The Soup Stone), told in Afrikaans, and after me came actress and storyteller Nonhlanhla Hadebe with The Parable of the Eagle, by James Aggrey. Margaret Auerbach, a professional puppeteer, ended the event with her wonderful puppet show, The Magic Ball.
Stories have magical powers. It was proven yet again by yesterday's event. After two hours of listening intently (even the youngest of the children were spellbound and were perfectly well behaved), the atmosphere was laden with positive energy. Complete strangers connected at an intuitive level, eye contact was made and smiles shared. Grown-ups and children shared a space in which everybody enjoyed themselves - and I'm not sure who enjoyed it the most: the children, the grown-ups (some of them came without children to listen to stories) or the storytellers themselves? And then I wonder: why don't we tell more stories? The world would definitely be a more enjoyable place.
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