"Tell me a story," my two and a half year old son asks me. I have come to not only fully expect this request, but meet it with a hodge podge of reality/fantasy tales. Sometimes my son is a main character and sometimes just one among a cast of many. Still other times I take prompts from my son and or partner and spin them into a tale that hybridizes our daily experiences with imaginary ones.
Storytelling isn't a skill one typically thinks to hone up on in preparation for parenthood. Nowhere did any of the pregnancy books suggest, 'as your pregnant partner does kegels, you can quickly map out skeleton plot lines and train your brain for what will be a marathon of storytelling sessions testing your improvisational skills and imagination". While my partner did her nightly 'kick counts' I could've told her about my day by casting roles to Brothers Grimm characters while delivering dialogue in Seussian rhyme. I didn't anticipate how much my son would enjoy and request stories, and I give the word "story" a very broad definition here. Anything that communicates an event (past, present, or future) and involves any one or more people constitutes a story. Often I'll finish telling him something and he'll say, "tell me that story again mommy". This has prompted a reconsideration of the role stories play in communication and the extent, degree, and ways with which I use them.
Being a student of anthropology and an armchair/ cocktail party anthropology enthusiast, I have studied about the role of stories in human cultures, and the many purposes they serve. However, I am still amazed at my son's insatiable appetite for them or really for anything closely resembling an experiential account. I was pleasantly surprised to find a neurobiological approach to understanding this human drive for stories in the book
Parenting From the Inside Out by Daniel Siegel. In the book he specifically addresses what he calls autobiographical narratives and the benefits of a parent having a coherent life story as she helps her children make sense of their lives. He also takes a look at how stories function more generally.
"Stories are the way we make sense out of the events of our lives. Individually and collectively we tell stories in order to understand what has happened to us and to create meaning from those experiences. Storytelling is fundamental to all human cultures, and our shared stories create a connection to others that builds a sense of belonging to a particular community. The stories of a particular culture shape how its members perceive the world. In this way, stories both are created by us and shape who we are. For these reasons, stories are central to both individual and collective human experience."
He goes on to propose that
narratives emerge out of a flexible blending of cognitive processing modes found in both the left and right hemispheres of the brain. The left mode of processing tends to be linear, logical, language based, attending to cause and effect relationships and patterns. The right hemispheric mode is non-linear, holistic, visuo-spatial, and attends to autobiographical data, nonverbal signals, an integrated sense of the body, metal models of self, intense emotions, and social understanding. As we tell stories, or share experiences via stories, we draw on the wide range of internal processes found in both hemispheres and offer opportunities for these differential processes to become integrated.
"Stories involve logical sequencing of events, but they also play a powerful role in regulating emotions; in this way, stories are a good example of how emotion and analytical thinking are intertwined."Stories, at least along these lines of thought, allow for integration of neural networks, integration of our experiences into self-identities, and further integration of individuals into communities as individuals identify with, empathize with, and form relationships with others. Stories then take on functions such as transmission and preservation of culture and act as cornerstones to cultural identity.
I still remember many of the stories told to me as a child by my parents and grandparents. As a child of a Deaf parent I know how important stories were to my dad in relating his identity as a Deaf man and how valuable they are to me in finding my place in the Deaf community. As a lesbian I have felt the value of sharing my coming out story, hearing those of others, and profoundly appreciate individual LGBT stories that make our community and our lives rich and visible. Now, as a mother, I experience the primacy of stories everyday as I share and relate with my son; I see them through new eyes and appreciate the joining they allow. Here's to the magic of stories and their central place in our lives, relationships, and cultures. Lets honor the dinner table conversations, bedtime rituals, and yes, even the blogs that give stories a time and a space to grow!
