Lanes Welcomes its New Director Yvonne Zinicola.check her out on the LANES front page.
www.mynestorytellingconfsharingthefire.blogspot.com
Arts education: "It's not a waste of time"
I was reminded of this the other night during the Oscars when Michael Ciacchino won for his original score for "Up." He skipped the usual shout-outs to agents and higher powers and, instead, went right back to the beginning.
I was nine and I asked my dad, "Can I have your movie camera? That old, wind-up 8 millimeter camera that was in your drawer?" And he goes, "Sure, take it." And I took it and I started making movies with it and I started being as creative as I could, and never once in my life did my parents ever say, "What you're doing is a waste of time." Never. And I grew up, I had teachers, I had colleagues, I had people that I worked with all through my life who always told me what you're doing is not a waste of time. So that was normal to me that it was OK to do that. I know there are kids out there that don't have that support system so if you're out there and you're listening, listen to me: If you want to be creative, get out there and do it. It's not a waste of time. Do it. OK?
Ever since the No Child Left Behind act, the national discussion about failing schools has been all about "accountability" and "standards." Now, nobody in his or her right mind is against standards and accountability: We all want our kids to learn and to develop and to grow. But the "standards" movement is imposing a corporate, one-size-fits-all model on schools, focusing on high-stakes standardized tests that measure rote facts rather than the ability to think independently. Just yesterday, the National Governors Association released national core common standards that have been embraced by 48 states. The standards focus on language arts, science, and math, and they outline specific benchmarks each child has to meet in each grade. Not a word about the arts or about the value of multiple intelligences.
States that adopt the standards will have a better chance of winning funding in President Obama's Race to the Top Initiative, a $5 billion program that treats education like a reality show. Whatever state can get through all the hurdles wins the cash. But what happens when you ask people to do the impossible -- that is, improve failing schools overnight and get all students to pass the same test? They resort to desperate measures.
They cheat. They teach to the test, aka drill and kill. And they narrow the curriculum. If it ain't on the test, it's a waste of time. Out goes music. Out goes visual art. Out goes drama. This is happening all over the place, despite the fact that studies show that graduation rates are higher when students have access to arts education.
Imagine the young composer in this environment, where his teachers actually did tell him that his obsession with his father's wind-up 8 millimeter camera was a waste of time. Imagine the would-be architect, who is told in kindergarten that building with blocks is a waste of time. Imagine the future actress, who is told there's no time to play in the dress-up area because she has to learn all her letters and memorize 25 sight words at the age of five. Imagine the up-and-coming Picasso who is chastised for turning in a picture of a blue cat eating a potato when the assignment had been to draw a self-portrait. Not realistic enough! Follow directions!
A waste of time.
Again, there's nothing inherently wrong with standards if they are developmentally appropriate and flexible. But I fear we are raising a bunch of automatons who are being instructed to memorize facts and fill out bubble tests rather than teaching children to think creatively and outside of the so-called box.
The sad thing is, this reform is all being done in the name of educating young people to develop "21st century skills." But what precisely are these skills? Here's what Daniel Pink had to say in "A Whole New Mind." "Typically these are things we associate with
the right side of the brain, with artistic and empathetic and playful sorts of abilities."
Instead, schools are racing to focus on something called STEM -- science, technology, engineering and mathematics. In a recent article in Education Week, Joseph Piro suggested the term be changed to STEAM -- with the A standing for arts. Makes perfect sense to me and you, but unfortunately, we're not in charge.
And sadly, this isn't just happening here. And it's not just happening in K-12. It's infecting universities, too. Last month, an A-list of arts and education luminaries in England penned a passionate letter to the Observer protesting cuts to arts programs in higher education.
Article by Laura Packer
Article from( http://www.storyteller.net/articles/26)
[http://massmouth.ning.com/events/outrageous-or-blarney-story]
Everyone has a couple of stories that no one ever believes, those tales that don't need to grow in the telling because the real events were so outrageous, so incredible, so beyond that pale that to exaggerate would only add excess to an already perfect creation.
My Aunt Betty only lost her false teeth once. She found them when they bit her on the butt, but she didn't find them at home, oh no....
We also all have those stories that have matured over the years. The ones that start out as a mild anecdote but end up being, longer, louder and more extraordinary than anyone can be expected to believe, but we don't care, because it's all such good craic or fine talk and story.
Yeah, we had a good day fishing, but you should have seen the one that broke my line...
When my Uncle Pete was a young man, he liked to fight. He didn't care if his opponent was man or beast, he would just go at it....
These wild stories are fun to listen to, bond audiences together in a shared laugh, cut across cultural boundaries and are a blast to tell. You can roll out your best bit of blarney at the Outrageous Storyslam at Kennedy's Midtown, March 15 from 6:30-9:30. See you there!
I was on my way to Kennedy's for the slam and this enormous man got on the T. I'm not talking just tall or wide, but huge. In order to get through the doors he had to get down on his hands and knees and crawl, then lie down in the aisle since he wouldn't fit in any of the seats. He immediately exclaimed that the MBTA had best upgrade their cars or he would just use one for his coffin since it was such a tight fit and then he fell asleep and began to snore...
Storytelling as connective tissue
Whenever I can, I sit in the back at storytelling events. This isn't from modesty or claustrophobia, but because I love watching the crowd as the teller's words touch each and every listener. They form a net that includes everyone in the room, linking them by common experience and images.
While each listener imagines different things and ultimately may remember a story differently, the shared experience of listening to a story makes the entire audience into one being. The story is the ligament that binds us. From my seat in the back I can see everyone move together, leaning forward as the teller pulls them into the tale or jumping at a scary moment. The audience moves like one animal. Regardless of the length of the story, the setting in which it's told, the experience of the teller or the teller's background, when we tell authentically tell a story it binds audience members to each other and to the teller.
Stories are connective tissue in culture and families as well. They are how we identify ourselves, how we know that I am of this group, so this is my story. If you are Jewish then you likely have some common elements of story around survival and loss and redemption. If you are African-American then you likely have common elements of story around race and freedom. Family stories act as connective tissue through generations (for example,this is how we got here or this is our land) binding young to old and helping youth retain family identity through the trauma of adolescence because they know who they are by the stories they were told and in turn retell. On a broader level, stories connect human-to-human, because ultimately we have similar experiences regardless of our color or ethnicity.
When we tell and listen to stories we are reminded of our common bonds, of how we are not so different from one another. We are connected by our very human natures; in narrative we have the opportunity to see the similarities and release the differences.
Once upon a time there was a family. The parents loved the children and let them go into the world to seek their fortune. Some succeeded, some failed. They told their stories so they would be remembered. And so the stories remained long after the original tellers were gone.
Stories reach across time, space and distance to give us the same narrative connection. We are human. We tell stories. Listen to me and I will listen to you: We will recognize ourselves in each others words.
A Red Pen to Improve Your Storytelling
By: K. Sean Buvala
There is an old comedy album, heard once in my youth, where the comedian says, “When you are trying to tell a story, try having a point. It makes it so much more interesting for an audience.”
I’ve attended a number of storytelling events of late that bring that old comedy routine to mind. I’ve wanted to hand the tellers a giant red pen, hoping they’d cut out, cross out and eliminate the bloated-ness of their tales.
Although it’s not always possible to have a clear cut point in telling folktales or world myths, it is important for storytellers to know “why” they are telling any particular story. If not, stories end up as rambling and meandering exercises in hearing ourselves talk. When that happens, the stories lose their interest and our audiences just lose interest.
It is easier to do the red pen routine with personal tales, so let’s begin there. First, understand that storytelling is an audience-centered art form. It’s not a form of therapy for the storyteller.
Grab yourself a piece of paper and do this exercise with me. First, choose a personal tale from your repertoire. Then imagine the type of audience you’ll be telling to and with. With those thoughts in mind, ask yourself this: Why am I telling the story? What is my point?
Identify this first thought, this singular crystal-clear point and write it across the top of the piece of paper. Use large, bold letters.
Underneath those big bold letters, write an outline your story. What’s first, second third.....sixth, etc? Try to include all the elements of your typical telling of that story, including those tangential side trips you might be normally inclined to make.
Now comes the step so many tellers are unwilling to make. Grab your red pen. Re-read your main point. Go down your outline and ask yourself for each numbered item, “Does this item illustrate or lead to my main point?” If it does not, cross it out.
This is the point where some storytellers start to reach for the oxygen mask. “But, but, what you want me to cut out is (funny, cute, touching, meaningful, pretty, insightful, witty, makes my grandma laugh, tells people I love dogs, will save the world, etc). I couldn’t cut out that part.” Yes, you could. Yes you should. If it does not move your story towards your main point for the audience that you are addressing, then draw a line through it and drop it from you story. Most likely, the parts you’ve redlined are or could become stories in their own way.
The process I have just described is a good exercise to do with your storytelling coach. Ask that person to help you identify and redline the excessive parts of your story, those parts that drag down your work. One of the challenges with storytelling as an art from is our excessive focus on internal (“How does your storytelling make you feel?”) coaching, so it may be hard to find a mentor that will be honest with you. You may need to assure your coach that it’s okay to have an opinion.
This ability to redline one’s work, to focus on the needs of the audience, is essential for good storytelling. Tellers who are unwilling to red line their stories just leave me wishing for the door. A storyteller who tells a story that has been redlined and crafted leave me wishing for more of their craft. Isn’t that the goal- building a love for stories and storytelling in our audiences?
Can you believe what my mom did?
by Laura Packer reprinted from
http://massmouth.blogspot.com/2010/01/can-you-believe-what-my-mom-did.htm/
Last week I listed ten things you can tell stories about including food, love, embarrassing moments and more. One of the richest places for stories is family. Biological or chosen, parents or children, siblings or cousins, your family or another's, families have it all. Love, hate, humor, drama, passion, apathy, the whole range of human experience is in every single family. Kevin Brooks, a talented local storyteller who often tells about his family, has said, "God gave me a dysfunctional family so I can tell stories about them."
Think about. I bet you can come up with stories for every one of these prompts or, if you can't, ask someone you're related to and they will tell you a story:
- I had it and they wanted it
- A kitchen disaster
- How my parents met
- Why we live here
- The time when we all went on vacation. Or tried to
- What happened at the funeral/wedding/christening/bat mitzvah
I know, you might be worried about offending a relative by telling a story about them. There are a couple of things you can do about it.
- File off the serial numbers and change their identity just a little. Make a sister a cousin.
- Tell the story someplace where they will never hear it.
- Throw caution to the wind and sacrifice your family on the alter of art. Chances are your stories are no worse than those David Sedaris tells the nation about his family.
- Tell them the story first. They might think it's the best thing they've ever heard and even give you details you never knew. This is my favorite option and one that might just bring you closer to those you love. Or never knew you loved.
What Does a Great Story Look Like?
by David E. Henderson
click on link to full page story and to David E. Henderson's colum
This week I have been writing about the power and value of organizational storytelling for the purpose of achieving sustained image and reputation leadership. But, what does a great story look like?
As someone who began my career in network television news, and then moved to a second career in public relations, storytelling comes second-nature … something I take for granted and wish I were better at doing. So I must stop, and dig down to explain the essential pillars of organizational storytelling.
Storytelling is about life. It is about sharing the human experience, something that is a common thread that tends to touch and connect with something inside each of us … that makes us laugh, or perhaps cry, or maybe just contemplate. We listen to a great story, and we often will retell it to a family member, friend or colleague.
As I find often during consulting, storytelling can easily be used to communicate vision, concepts, ideas and build consensus for an organization or company.
If you are the storyteller, you must love your story. You must believe in what you are sharing, passionately. You must bring it to life so that the story is right there, living between you and the audience.
A curious image, like a photo, can help … so long as it is closely tied to the story. Here’s a great example of corporate storytelling, using a photo. It was shot by my good friend, Ed Lallo, an Austin-based professional photographer who started his career in the newspaper business … so he knows how to tell a story with his camera.
There are as many different kinds of stories as colors in the rainbow. Just visit the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee. If you are interested in learning the spectrum of storytelling that might be applied to your organization, that’s the place to hear amazing storytellers and techniques. Yet, each story is about people. Not about concrete roads, buildings, companies, software, products, manufacturing plants or stuff … but about people, most often an individual who has experienced something in life. The story could be about the storyteller.
My old friend and colleague, Michael Deaver, was a masterful storyteller. He said that good storytelling must contain emotional, logical and analytical elements, working together, to capture attention. I agree. The emotional piece touches our hearts; the logical piece just makes sense; and, the analytical part is supported by facts and figures. We can tell a great story that might lack either the logical or analytical pieces but … it’s got to connect with the audience emotionally in order to really work.
Storytelling must also be timely and relevant to what’s happening in the world around us. Otherwise, while it could be a good story, it lacks perspective and context.
- Storytelling has a beginning: “Let me tell you a story …”
- A middle that contains an event or experience, and …
- An ending that wraps up the story with, perhaps, a lesson learned or a surprise twist.
While many people in public relations agree about the value of organizational storytelling, few practice it. There’s got to be a significant paradigm shift, from being overly obsessed with marketing, sales and promotion, and embracing a new style that is more sharing, more conversational, more open, more credible and transparent.
Let’s get something off the table – most press releases (at least 99.9997 percent of them) are not stories. They are sales promotion pieces, and that’s one reason why news releases are so ineffective in today’s world, whether to get the media’s interest or to capture the attention of anyone else. If, on the other hand, news releases were, God forbid, written as legitimate stories, I predict they could be wildly successful. But, they are not.
Techniques for organizational storytelling, and many more elements of contemporary communications leadership are detailed in my new book, Making News in the Digital Era (www.thedigitalera.net).
Read more: http://www.davidhenderson.com/2009/03/26/what-does-a-great-story-look-like/#ixzz0dFrcONBV
Under Creative Commons License: Attribution
Ten things you can tell a story about
by Laura Packer
To the first response I take a deep breath, smile and explain that, while reading to kids is great and important, I tell stories, mostly to grown-ups. The conversation can go in many different directions from there and, if I'm lucky, it leads to a really good discussion. It often does.
It's the second response that I love, because it gives me a chance to do a magic trick. Everyone is a storyteller; you already know that. Storytelling a crucial part of how people understand their lives and connect with others. The magic trick is helping someone see that the everyday communication they already engage in is really storytelling and how, if they wanted, they could expand on it and tell a more polished story. massmouth sees this happen routinely at mouthoffs and slams.
When I perform the magic trick, all I do is this:
- I talk about storytelling as part of every day life
- Then I let the conversation move onto something else
- Within a few minutes I ask them a leading question and I listen to their response. I let them tell me a story. I listen with interest and maybe ask another question or two
- And then I thank them for telling me their story, mentioning something I enjoyed about the story.
So what can someone tell a story about, even if they don't think of themselves as a storyteller? Here are some suggestions for stories; these are all topics that can take a moment or an hour, none are the be-all and end-all of storytelling, nor is this list comprehensive. Many of these are topics massmouth has used at slams or will be using at upcoming events.
- favorite meals or foods
- embarrassing moments
- family (massmouth slam, January 31)
- eros and love (massmouth slams February 14 and February 22)
- work
- mistakes
- holidays
- travel
- your kids - or someone else's
- dastardly deeds or heroism
New Year’s Resolutions for Storytellers
By: K. Sean Buvala
Resolve to tell more often. For beginner or advanced, storytelling is an art. You only get better with practice and experience. Sitting here at your computer, wishing “I wish I could tell stories!” will not make it so. Go find for yourself an audience at your local school, crisis shelter, or library. Somewhere there is an audience for you. And they will be so genuinely happy that you came to be with them that you will glow with your excitement- and humbled about how powerful the words you speak become when shared from person to person.
Resolve to hear tellers more often. Listening to others tell is a joy. You’ll learn of more styles and methods, voices and pacing, gestures and responses. Join a guild, or perhaps go to a concert, but hear others tell, live, as often as you can. Better yet, be sure to attend one of the many conferences and festivals held throughout the U.S. and the world. Don’t forget- when you do get to a festival and there are “story swaps” which are open to all . . . see my first resolution.
Resolve to spend time in the public libraries. Research is an important part of being a teller. There are dozens of ancient tales, from the Grimm stories to Aesop’s tales, that are waiting to have your energy and your breath behind them. Maybe even spend some time at some large used book sale . . . the smell of paper and binding might just allow your mind to relax enough to uncover true “gems” among the neat, precise stacks of the library or in the dusty, topsy-turvy piles of used books.
Resolve to build your personal library. Buy a cassette tape, a CD or book once per month. Help support your fellow tellers and their efforts to promote this fine art. Having just the right story or reviewing a technique is one of the true joys in building your personal library.
Resolve to help someone else learn the art of telling. There are many people you will encounter who will also say “I wish I could tell stories . . . ” Encourage them, share with them you knowledge of resources, both online and offline. Lend them a book or tape from your library. Go together to a concert. Video tape each other’s telling and share a critique session over coffee. Share a library and lunch trip.
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