It's a 'vision thing'

Lizi Brown, Jannelle Codianni, Josh Whiton and Jackson Gillman at the Semi-finals in JP

I thought I was just helping someone out and getting a some content for our blog...but personally,  Lizi Brown's 'article' couldn't have come at a better time. I was feeling pretty worn out by the grueling work of the past 6 months and her statement was a much needed affirmation.

Disclaimer: This article below was a solicited declaration. I had asked Lizi to write something about her experience ( she wanted a massmouth,inc. T-shirt so I suggested she write something for our blog  this as a barter) and here it is...

    This February a friend treated me to my first evening of massmouth,inc. storytelling at Doyle’s. She knows I listen to The Moth, and wanted to turn me on to what‘s happening locally. When we got there they were asking audience members to consider telling a story on a particular theme. I had one that matched the topic and told it to my friends at the table while we were waiting for things to get going. Though I didn’t think it was worth the mic time, they encouraged me to get up and tell it. I was reluctant because I’m just not a performer. I hadn’t had any time to figure out how to tell it right, and I was also just plain chicken. Even though I knew my experience was interesting, I couldn’t imagine that I could put it out there very well. But the crowd seemed friendly, and I decided to give it a try.

       What followed was a few quick minutes sharing my life in a way that seemed to work surprisingly well. I had decided to ‘just be me’, and stick to the bare bones of a series of life events that it turned out people liked hearing. It was more fun than I can possibly explain, probably largely because I was relaxed and unprepared. I won the audience vote, got some excellent coaching, and went on to the semi finals. At this point I felt way over my head, but the other tellers were supportive and really nice, and we all had a great time that night. Miraculously, I went on to the finals.

       I’m not a performer in any sense, and yet I was able to tell my experience, partly because of the short time limit that made it less scary (how much trouble can you get into in 4 minutes? wait – that could be a future theme...), and partly because the night was so welcoming and fun. Each event required shortening and fine-tuning. As I rewrote the story I learned more about it, and why I was telling it, but I stuck to my original gut feeling to just be me. When I told it the last time I did the best. I was surrounded by great people with wonderful, human stories, and I felt very good about my contribution to the evening. I can’t believe I did it! Participating in these events was very empowering, it helped me find my voice in many ways.
 
       It also feels really good to contribute to the high school storytelling project that benefits from the funds raised at these evenings. They are teaching kids to find creative ways to express what is happening in their lives, incredibly important work. Thank you massmouth.

- Lizi Brown

Thanks, Lizi - this is precisely our vision for story slams  -  a kind of storytelling 'of the people, by the people and for the people'.   Creating experiences like yours are the greater part of what we worked so hard to make happen. Promoting the art of storytelling is the rest of the gig.

Related articles

• April 21st, 2012 10:00AM 1st BostonStorytellingFestival

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• BigMouthOff 2012: stories and appreciations

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• High School Slam - This Saturday!

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• Final Scholarship Slam is a Hit

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"what to say "- coaching dilemmas

Just a nice picture, not a weak performance at Royalston Shakespeare Co.

Just another day online, at the office. The research errand I was on was serious - time sensitive tax information for our nonprofit corporation. Not exactly my fave topic. And somehow I had wandered into the ArtsEdge site. Delightful. Not what I needed to be doing but what a rich resource for arts educators. Warning: DO NOT go there if you are in a hurry.

So after spending an hour online browsing at the excellent  Kennedy Center for the Arts blog, I had to move on. Before I left,  I skimmed an article about "what to say" when directing students in theater.   I started thinking about how to adapt these ideas for use in my storytelling coaching.  I copied and pasted the list into an email and sent it to myself.  Sometimes the material presented by a performer is astoundingly bad. Did I just say that? Phew, no. I just wrote that. We all know that we think that sometimes. But that is not what we want to say.  We know the work or performance is just unformed, not ready, in process, etc, etc... The writer/educator at ArtsEdge and I think it good to have a few set phrases you can rely on while you gather thoughts about how to be helpful. Below is my first stab at riffing on that list to help story coaches say positive things to help move into a conversation and critique.  Do you you have any favorites? Add yours in the comments below.

Things for a teacher/coach to say after a flawed performance or weak story:

1. “You are really improving.  What would happen if you tried... ( give a specific exercise or direction for student to try.)

 2. “Good"  Or "Thank you.  How can we help you make your story stronger...”  ( if obvious to you what might help, name it, if not just say "stronger").

This was "bad", even the other actors thought so.

3. “Project your voice as if the whole audience was outside, down the hall and in the restroom”

 4. “Good. Keep what you are doing. Please try or see how you feel about adding…”  ( when someone is really tentative - then give some specific exercise or direction to try)

 5. “Interesting. Help us help you by telling us what you care about most in this story...( when you don't even know where to begin - or some specific questions from what is given to tease out where the story is)

 6. “Good. Now what are some ways you want to challenge yourself ?” ( for someone who is almost there but kind of missing the mark)

 7. “Stories happen people to people, or people and animals, people and environment - Show us one thing ( each) so we can "hear" "see" what you see? Show us verbally - or   Show us non verbally ( facial, sound effect,movement etc.)

 8. “What is most important to you? What do you really want us to take away from your story?”

 9. “Breathe. "Anxiety is excitement without breath, " said my first storytelling teacher and great storyteller,  Jennifer Justice (now the Artistic Director of Durham Family Theater). Don’t rush - find at least two places to pause for a full 3 count.”

 10. “What felt good to you in this story? How can you build on that ?”


Ah - finally found the the original article and you may read it here: What Do I Say?   Ten ways a drama teacher can respond constructively and sensitively to student work

Edited - My Brother's Keeper - for real

(Sorry about this posting and reposting. Something about blogger autosave and my sloppiness combined to produce versions with lots left out or in weird order. But this is the version I intended to post. I hope. Please dump all others.) You may listen above at "Listen" page

My big brother does not live nearby but he is in the same metropolitan area. Even so, not many people who know me now, have met Keith ( not his real name). The voices do not let him go out much. The voices, the evil wizards and the voodoo have been messing up his life for nearly 40 years. Just today, after banking, shopping and stopping in a Dunkin' for a celebratory coffee near his group home Keith said, " Let's make it quick. I am getting hit by voodoo pretty bad."

I have never seen Keith's wizards but I have seen their work and I am a believer. When you have a brother who looks like Charles Manson on a bender, it is easy to believe in the power of his 'evil wizards'. You may know the wizards by a different name  -  Schizophrenia?  It is an awful disease. In the wake of its ongoing devastation, it has become harder and harder for me to see the human being in the shell that Keith inhabits with all those jokers.

Do wizards like iced coffee? Keith ordered 4.

Today was different.
First of all, Keith was calling to say he didn't want help. That was flat out weird. He only calls when he wants help. But it was lucky because I was tired and not into being the good daughter who promised her dying mother she'd take care of her brother. Secondly, Keith needed a ride to the bank. Usually the staff takes everyone in a van, but they couldn't because of the holiday weekend and vacation schedules.  Keith had wanted me to come on Friday and now Saturday morning instead. He called to say he couldn't leave the house because the 'voodoo' wouldn't let him. I wanted to be far away by Saturday so I cajoled and reasoned. But Keith was adamant about the voodoo and I hung up thinking about all I could do with my morning instead of driving to Dedham and back. The phone rang just as I sat down to the computer. Keith had decided he could go out after all. He used to do all his banking at a branch downtown where every one knows him and I was dreading the 25+ mile round trip. But, Keith had worked out that the Shaw's, less than a mile from his house had a branch of his bank in it. And then, if I would wait, he could shop a bit, too. So I picked him up at about 10 AM.

So much cheese, so little time.

He had remembered that I missed the entrance last time we shopped and pointed it out to me. I would have driven by and missed it again. "Can you park a little closer to the store?" he said as we pulled into the lot.  "I feel a bit unsteady on my feet." I worry about all the meds they give him but, he was fine. He gets an SSI check and most people in his situation would have the group home be the 'rep payee'. But Keith and we, have been suspicious of the bureaucracy and traded convenience for autonomy and control. 'We 'are my my younger sister and I. We are Keith's  legal guardians.  Between the wizards,  the voodoo, the house rules, his treatment plan and the 12 medications he takes daily, there is damn little Keith controls, so we let him handle his money.

Usually Keith smells bad. Today he didn't. That was different. Sometimes he is overcome by all the medications he takes and falls so deeply asleep that he pees himself.  On bad days the voodoo or wizards insist he take "dry showers" - an invention of Keith's, which allow him to be in compliance with his hygiene plan, keep the voices happy and not get wet.  I know, Mother Theresa wouldn't trash talk my brother this way but then, I am no saint. Nor am I shy, or easily embarrassed,  but I will admit that shopping with Keith is anxiety provoking. When we are out together, I am always afraid someone will be freaked out by his appearance and either ridicule him or, out of fear, be openly hostile and attack.

Keith has a vocal tic which sounds like he is growling or revving an engine. Every 3 minutes or so,  he growls, then he shakes out his left arm and pulls his shoulder length hair from his face to back behind his ears. He has a very deep voice and lost all his teeth but rarely wears his dentures. Sometimes he talks back to the voices, and converses softly but audibly. Without his glasses he is legally blind but he doesn't wear them anymore. So he stares and blinks and then leans in to see. People are visibly shocked when they see him. Some people like to laugh about my brother's food habits. I grant you, one person with a cart full of 40 pounds of cheeses, 3 gallons of ice cream and 6 bags of Dorito's is curious. The thought of one person eating it all ? Astounding. But I am sure no one wants to have the hole inside their life* that Keith is trying to fill with all that junk. Or his chronic constipation. Perhaps some are a bit jealous because, even with his high calorie, heart stopping cholesterol laden diet, Keith is not overweight.

But this is all old hat. What I wanted to tell you, is what I saw today....

Keith was waiting in line to get a cashiers check to pay his rent when a woman in her early sixties rolled up and proceeded to steal the "who is the craziest person in this line " title right from under our noses. Even with his 6 foot tall frame, scary tics and full beard, this little lady with a small shopping cart and a huge voice was giving Keith a run for his $$$. She did not or could not modulate her voice. She was loud and whiny and getting very agitated about the wait. The line was long and not moving. She huffed and sighed. She stuck out her little hair covered chin and wagged it. She slapped at her cart with her bank book.  She complained that the line was too long! Why was the line so slow? She just needed her check cashed! Nobody cared! and she had medications to get!  She just needed her check cashed! And there was "A hurricane is coming! We gotta hurry."  She just needed her check cashed so she could shop and get home! Before the storm killed us all !

People in line shifted uneasily. They all looked away; some in disgust, some were embarrassed for her, some in fear. But Keith turned to her and said, "Don't worry, the storm is going to miss us. It 's not supposed to be so bad."  This only ramped up her anxiety and she started in on me after I seconded Keith's report. Keith didn't notice her reaction. He had gone to ask a teller if he could sit down and wait.  I stepped out of the line, and the line of fire. Sheeesh, she was not letting up!

I also needed a moment, because that kind gesture of Keith's, had made me tear up. Given all that he struggles with, he had heard her distress and reached out to help. All the normal people were taking cover yet, he responded.  It was such an "Adelaide" thing to do. Our mother, Adelaide taught us that everyone was, in fact, our brother. And we were all our brother's keepers.

Today was different.

Deep down, struggling with the wizards and the voodoo, the essential and genuine Keith is still here.

Yo' bro' - it's nice to hear from you.

* For Real by Bob Franke

There's a hole in the middle of the prettiest life
So the lawyers and the prophets say
Not your father nor your mother
Nor you lover's gonna ever make it go away
And there's too much darkness in an endless night
To be afraid of the way we feel
Let's be kind to each other
Not forever but for real