Why Storytelling?
My most favorite memories from my childhood are from the age of eight to twelve years old, when I lived in Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire. One of the most vibrant cities in West Africa. I lived with my grandparents in the community of Abobo, where people are known for their perseverance and optimism. We lived in a compound (a cluster of houses shared with extended family) that was right in the heart of the community.
My grandfather, a former member of the Ivorian Police Force, loved sharing stories from his patrol days. Every Friday & Saturday night, he would light a small fire pit in the middle of our compound for storytime. Me and my cousins would make a circle around the fire with my grandfather as he narrated stories from his childhood and patrol days. My grandfather had a unique way of vividly painting every word and acting out scenes to make his stories so enjoyable. We didn’t have a TV at home around this time but to this day, my grandfather’s stories are the best visual experiences I’ve ever experienced.
On Wednesday, October 5th, 2005, I came back from school to learn that my grandfather came down with a really bad cold. He could barely speak, and struggled to move around because his body was weak. The following week he was rushed to the hospital because he had completely lost his voice. He spent two weeks in the hospital for additional testing and procedures. When my grandfather came back home on Monday, October 31st, 2005, we learned that he had an unknown virus that attacked his immune system and cost him his voice. This became one of the quietest days in my life, I don’t remember speaking at all that day.
In this brave new world, the only communication method for my grandfather was writing and animated gestures. Storytime with my grandfather was no longer a thing, and he was really sad in the following weeks after leaving the hospital. The following Monday on our way to school, my cousins and I came together to brainstorm how we could cheer up my grandfather. We came up with the idea that every Friday moving forward we would write a story about our week and each take a turn in narrating/acting out the story for him as he used to do it. On that Friday we did just that. My grandfather loved it. Seeing him so happy gave us the courage to continue writing and telling more stories. As the weeks went by, I got better at writing and narrating. It was around this time that I began to fall in love with storytelling. For the next 2 years, until I left Abidjan, I wrote a story and narrated it for my grandfather on Fridays.
I’ve since lived in four other countries and nine different states in the U.S.; learning new cultures, meeting new people, and creating memories. In my journey thus far, I’ve come to understand that everyone and everything has a story. Not everyone is fortunate enough to tell their stories, not everyone has access to the right tools to tell their stories, and not everyone is aware of their story. My grandfather introduced me to storytelling, and I fell in love with it when he lost one of his tools to tell stories. I’ve since dedicated my life to help people find their stories, tell the stories of the ones who can’t and tell my own story. My life’s been one heck of story nested within the many stories of others and I hope to one day bring these stories to life for everyone to experience.
