An OutoftheBox journey from participation to storytelling
If I was telling our story in the sand, I would start by making peaks and troughs with my hand. I would choose nine very different looking wooden figures and place them in a circle. I would walk a tenth figure in to join the circle. In the middle of the figures, I would place a wooden circle, and - after a moment’s silence - I would rest a precious stone on top.
I did my Deep Talk training just over a year ago and just happened to mention it to a friend who held a weekly women’s group at her house. Coming out of Covid-19, they group weren’t sure what to focus on next but the idea of short wisdom stories in the sand seemed worth trying. I agreed to travel an hour there and back each week to share stories. Within a month, members of the group were telling the stories themselves.
You might think I’d gone with some sort of elaborate strategy to develop storytellers, but the truth is, it just happened. We began with food – variations on a theme of poached eggs on toast or bacon butties. Somewhere near the end of the general conversation, I would then ask ‘How have you been playing this week?. As the plates were cleared away, the sandbag was placed in the middle of the table with just about enough time for a story, discussion and a prayer before nursery pick-up.
As a group we’ve been reflecting on our experience. To begin with, we valued this storytelling approach for the following reasons:
The non-judgmental nature of the reflection questions – ‘there are no right or wrong answers’ – enabled the group to share their thoughts freely and see where those thoughts took them in the discussion.
The short story is told off by heart rather than read. That someone has taken the time to prepare beforehand in learning the story communicates something of its worth.
Apart from being an all-female group, members would say they are all as different as they come! Because everyone is given space to share their view, they have been learning to listen and understand the different perspectives within the group.
At first, our circular table was a practical necessity for both food and sandbag but, in hindsight, we all admitted that sitting round the table to eat and talk together is a rare thing in our busy households. The kitchen table dynamic created the ‘level-playing-field’ circle and connected our domestic lives as women with a spirituality that has the potential to sustain us in those roles.
Building on these dynamics, the group identified the following in making participation to storytelling feel so natural:
The simple routine we kept to really helped. Other members of the group were able to chip in with ‘don’t forget to …’ which meant the new storyteller felt supported by the group.
I had modelled being comfortable with silence, giving time for people to reflect on what they liked or didn’t like about the story before they answered. This took the pressure off new storytellers; they didn’t have to ‘fill the gaps’ in discussion by saying something.
Although my friend Amy hosted the group, she was not the first person to try storytelling. Despite being the only full-time person ‘in ministry’, she remained in a background role looking after all our food and drink needs. (She does indeed make excellent coffee with one of those fancy machines that froths the milk nicely!).
Taking turns to lead the story helped each person get used to ‘holding the room’. On one occasion, we even had one person share the words while another made the movements in the sand.
Lastly, there are a couple of additional dynamics we suspect were significant and these may be the most difficult things to reproduce in other places. Firstly, through my friendship with Amy, I’d met some members of the group before. That meant I was new to the group but not a complete stranger. And because Amy trusted me, the group trusted her. This allowed that injection of something ‘new’ into the group but in a way that felt safe.
Secondly, despite the peaks and troughs of life’s difficulties that all members experience on a daily basis, this group of women are remarkably welcoming and supportive of one another and of new people. I would say this is quite unusual.
So to finish telling our story in the sand, I would walk my little wooden figure back through the landscape away from the circle. Due to my work commitments and living at a distance, I have had to say farewell to the group, but they have ordered their own sandbag and wooden figures and signed up as members. As members, they now have access to the story scripts and videos so they can learn new stories by themselves and be encouraged by other storytellers through the online community.
Perhaps the paradox of the story is to do with the precious stone. I could end our story saying, ‘a precious stone was brought to – and left in – the circle’. Or I could say ‘the visitor discovered the precious stone was already there, present in each member of the group, before she joined.’ Which is true, I wonder? Or is there truth in both?
This blog was written by Claire Dalpra on behalf of ‘the GAB group’
Claire is a freelancer researcher based in Sheffield.