The Art of Storytelling

The Mission of TAOS

All too often, we drift through life as passive vessels for other peoples' stories: politicians speak and we listen, religious leaders preach and we nod, scholars teach and we accept.  And why not?  After all, it is their leadership, their guidance, and their expertise, that sustain society.  In turn, all we need to give them are trust, faith, and belief. 

But what do we do when the stories provided to us are no longer enough?  When the tales of who we are,  how we came to be, and where were are going no longer speak to us as individuals, as communities, as nations? 

We can decry, yes.  Or we can protest.  And we can even fight.

What we should do, though, is reclaim.

Not just our hearts and minds but also the stories we cherish. The ones that give our life meaning. Purpose. 

Collaborative Storytelling is a celebration of this endeavor: through mutually owned and shared stories, we, as communities, can truly begin...

Creating Value: The Thin Red Line...

Between a Teacher and her Students

Let me be clear before I go any further: I've met Janette Turner Hospital precisely once, and as such, I will not comment directly on her character--though I've since enjoyed better workshops. Instead, I will focus on this more recent construct of hers, one sent to me by way of a creature known as a listserv.

To say that I'm appalled is to ignore my own somewhat contentious relationship with American education.  I've fought with professors, with teachers, with assistant lecturers.  And I've also been the embittered chalk-bearer.  So I can understand, wholeheartedly, the relish Ms. Hospital takes in 'sharing' her abudant wealth.  I can also fully appreciate the disgust with which her former pupils have responded.  What I question is their intentionality.  Their vituperativeness. 

to this day, I recall, with both shame and sadness, the great revely wherein my classmates embellished their semester evaluations.  I remember, in particular, my undergraduate writing professor, and how she confronted me upon receiving those letters. 

"What kind of seditious collusion had occurred in her absence," she asked, "And why had I said nothing?" 

The latter was only implied; but I felt it nonetheless.

I didn't have the wherewithal, then, to tell her that they were right.

Craft Matters: Converging Thoughts...

When Two Things Become a Third:

Since Vox.com is dying, I've chosen to import the previous blog and its attendant material over to this one.  Hopefully, the process shouldn't take much longer.  In the meantime, all I ask is that you bear with the occasional quirk or hiccup.