We Need More Storytellers

Isn’t it funny how things from your childhood pop up from time to time. I can remember friends and adults telling me, “You better quit your storytelling.” I grew up in a generation where you didn’t use the word “lie,” you were either fibbing or telling stories. Today, I consider myself a necessary storyteller. My medium is narrative poetry and prose. My stories are mostly fiction with real life as a backdrop (aka: representational literature). I tell my own stories and the stories of my ancestors. I tell stories with morals and stories just for shear entertainment, but mostly I tell stories to connect generations. Trials, triumphs, struggle, hard work, hopes, dreams, love, family – these are just a few timeless themes that can reach out and touch members of every generation. In this case, I’m not just talking about the written word, I’m talking about oral storytelling – stories in the midst of conversation. We need more of these kinds of storytellers in our world today.

You don’t have to be an author of books to be a storyteller. Your life is full of experiences and relationships that create a storytelling opportunity. The time you had your first kiss, when you found out you were going to have a brother or sister, what it was like when you moved from your parents’ home or went off to college – these milestones and more are stories waiting for you to tell them. Things we can identify with and learn from can be found in the lives of other people. That’s why so many people love to read memoirs, biographies, autobiographies, historical fiction and to watch documentaries. We are interested in how people made their dreams come true or how they survived a crisis or how they overcame the obstacles of systematic societal phenomenon. We are fascinated by love stories and the work ethic and processes of a visionary. We even live vicariously through the adventures and travels of others. Whether you think of your life as mundane or extraordinary, you have a story to tell that no one else can tell quite like you.

As I talk to teenagers and young adults it always surprises me that they feel like they have to go life alone. As older adults we tend to blame their feelings of despair and detachment on cell phones and social media, but that’s not really the problem. The problem is all of us. We don’t engage in conversations the way generations did before the technology boon. I remember when there was only two ways to find answers: ask somebody or read a book or both. You couldn’t get an answer without a story. Young people are facing some of the same experiences and fears that we all have had. They could benefit from hearing how we conquered our fears. They could be encouraged by the stories of how we had to start again and again before we got it right or how we had to reinvent ourselves to stay current in the industrial age. They could find hope in the fact that we had so little but still accomplish so much with that little. I’m not talking about preaching or even teaching, I’m taking about sharing, investing, and leaving an indelible mark. Youngsters, teens, and young adults are a ready audience for your stories.

While we have an open audience for our stories, we can also be an audience for the stories of others. I spend a lot of time with people older than me. In fact, that’s part of the story of my life, I have always been around people much older than myself. Years ago, and today I learn so much from the older generation. Innumerable stories about the Great Depression, the First Pandemic, moving from the South to the North, domestic jobs, civil rights activism, faith, answered prayers, living among the famous, surviving wars, and so much more have been shared with me. Fascinating tales of trials and victories, love and family, death and hatred that I have not experienced except for someone being willing to share their story with me. Older adults love to talk about the “good ole or bad ole days.” Many of them are from the generation when conversation was the normal way of life. Conversation was the medium for obtaining news because everyone didn’t have radio or TV. Some of them could catch up on the party line (old fashion telephone network when several people shared the same line), or in the church yard, or the quilting bee, or the fields during harvest, or at the civic meetings held in the schoolhouse. They shared everything from obituaries to new births by talking to each other. Almost everything in the community traveled by word of mouth, and they haven’t forgotten a single word. Trust me, there are stories you need to hear from the senior adults in and around your life. Listening can bring joy to the teller and the listener.

Long ago, I ignored those persons who told me to stop telling stories. I don’t want to stop. I want to continue telling stories and listening stories. Stories make you laugh, cry, reflect, dream, remember and imagine. Stories help you empathize and sympathize with the life journey of others. Stories can bring healing and understanding as well as open up new avenues of knowledge for the listener. Stories form a union between the teller and hearer, an intimate bond over a shared experience. Stories are our legacy – the part of us that will live on after our transition to the world beyond. The world needs more storytellers. Are you willing to share your stories? Do you have an audience just waiting for you to begin the small tales and the large volumes of your life’s journey? Have you been privy to stories you can retell so that the legacy of the original storyteller live on? I’d love to hear from you. Tell me your story.

“Storytelling is important. Part of human continuity.” – Robert Redford

National Poetry Month

Since April is National Poetry Month, I thought I would share a few original poems with you. I hope you like them. Feel free to comment.

Human Perspective

Juniper trees
Weeping Willows
Pine cone dropping
Hawks soaring
Below floating clouds
A tiny black ant
On a daffodil bud
Reflections of life
Perspectives we see
But still don’t know.

Tribute to Marcus Allen

“Lord, I keep so busy serving my Master,
Keep so busy serving my Master,
Keep so busy serving my Master,
Ain’t got time to die!” *

Of course, we ain’t got time to die,
Singing these songs in the junior high chorus 1
Ain’t nobody thinking about dying.
We got too much living to do – graduation,
High school, college, romance, make some money,
New clothes, new shoes, a car – No time to die!
We got to show our parents and our teachers
We got a future that’s better than theirs, so we
Gonna keep so busy working for ourselves
Until Marcus gets killed on his paper route.
Stabbed multiple times for the money he collected.
Never to sing “Sweet Little Jesus Boy” ** again. His
Beautiful soprano subtracted from our harmonies
Now filled with tears and disbelief. The songs
We sing take on new meaning.

“Couldn’t hear nobody pray,
Couldn’t hear nobody pray,
O Way down yonder by myself
And I couldn’t hear nobody pray!” ***


*Negro Spiritual by Francis Hall Johnson
**Christmas Song by Robert MacGimsey, 1934
***Negro Spiritual by J. W. Work, 1940

Adoption Party

He ran right up to me
Bright eyes, crooked little teeth.
Tapped me on the leg and said,
“Come and see!”
Before I could answer,
Off he ran, leaving my heart
To wonder, “Is this my son?”
So many children running all around.
All ages, all sizes, filled with energy.
Yet, I could still hear him
Above every sound.
Balloons popping, children screaming,
Workers trying to get everyone to
Settle down.

“We have to find him!” is all that I said
We wandered in search
Of this four-year-old’s head
He had stolen my heart
To my husband’s surprise
We had found the one child
One face, one smile,
Amid so many, he walked right up to us,
A toy truck in hand, pulling my husband’s pant leg.
“What’s your name?” I managed to say
He simply replied, “Can you please play?”
He sat right down at our feet, spinning the wheels
And we joined him there. This is where a new life
With our son began.

More poems by Patricia Boyd-Wilson

Talk From the Family Tree

Imagine sitting at the feet of your elders and ancestors hearing their stories and conversations and discovering the origin of your life. Visualize seeing the expressions on their faces and hearing each tale firsthand for the very first time. I was a little girl eavesdropping on grownup conversations, trying to understand the connection of the past to the present. This new book, a collection of short stories and poetry, tries to capture the intimate conversations retold year after year for every generation.

It’s my pleasure to share my latest book with you. Your encouragement and support of my writing is priceless. Thank you for following my blog and the books I’ve authored.

Available on Amazon today.