Doing research is fascinating stuff – and absolutely critical for storytellers.  That is why I found myself recently at the University of Washington library. It was vacation time and the place was like a tomb… perfect! I did what I usually do – find a relevant call number and then just wander around, looking at titles. I can’t tell you how many treasures I have found using this method. It’s insane – but it works. And that day was no exception. I found two references I NEVER would have found any other way.

But research, as everyone knows, is also incredibly frustrating and time-consuming. I can’t even count the number of times that I have followed a particular trail… only to have it peter out into nothing. False leads, misinformation, machinery that won’t work, conflicting facts and figures, institutions that change their hours on  a whim (ARGH!): it all adds up to grinding teeth and high blood pressure and lots of colorful language.

Another thing: research can be so seductive. You are completely engrossed in a fascinating subject  and – suddenly – you find yourself being led in an entirely new direction. You simply HAVE to find out more about this particular thing even if it is connected only by a gossamer thread to your main topic. So, you start to dig – deeper and deeper… it’s like an addiction. Unless you stop – right then – and think through, re-evaluate, remind yourself that this is not where you need to be, you’re going to waste a lot of valuable time. Unless… of course… you won’t. Because, sometimes, that seemingly wrong direction you are taking will lead you (surprise!) to the mother lode of information. So – how are you to judge? It brings us right back to that metaphor that all storytellers know and poets write about: two paths in a wood – and which one will you take? It’s your call – and I hope you’re right.

But the really exciting thing I discovered doing research for “Rebecca” had nothing to do with any of the above. Up to now, I have had very little information to go on – only Rebecca’s diary and a few historical references. But I had already begun forming an idea about the relationship between Rebecca and her husband, Isaac. And I sensed that this relationship was going to be key: a vital part of my story. There, at the Special Collections UW library, I found letters: between Issac and Rebecca and other members of their families – and I discovered that my ideas were  absolutely right! I wanted to jump up and down and shout. But – in the library – a radiant smile aimed at the nearest staff person would have to do. He DID look a little puzzled….

 Recently, I received a very welcome announcement: I had just been awarded the 2011 Huebner Grant from our national organization, the National Storytelling Network. The grant is for funds to complete the final research for my second one woman show, “Rebecca: the story of Rebecca Ebey”. It is the story of the wife of the first Anglo-American to settle here on Whidbey Island. Much of the show will be based on a diary that Rebecca left which begins three months after she settled here with her husband and two young sons.

 This award is very special to me for a number of reasons. First, the award is sponsored by the Jonesborough (TN) Storytelling Guild. I began storytelling almost fifteen years ago at JSG: telling at local restaurants, churches, and events. I remember soft fragrant Tennessee nights…laughing and joking with other tellers… listening to their tales – gentle and hilarious – all delivered in that wondrous drawl….  I am so grateful for their support and for the opportunities they gave me.

 Second, the award is named to honor a JSG teller and dear friend, Carole Ann Huebner. Carole Ann and her husband, Treetop (Jack) Wilson mentored dozens of beginning tellers in their careers – and I was one of them. Their support was crucial. I almost gave up several times. I remember once shouting at Carole Ann, “I’m going back to teaching and training; at least it’s something I know how to do!!”   “No, you’re not,” she said softly, “you’re a teller – like it or not.” Both were meticulous crafters and they taught me so much. To receive an award honoring them is… very, very special.

 “Rebecca” will premiere here at the Whidbey Island Center for the Arts in March 2012 as part of the 2011 – 12 Local Artists Series. And now – it’s time to go to work!

A daughter

June 2011

                                             Farewell to Sarah

Sarah's quilt

The final performance of  *“Quilters” has come and gone. A Pulitzer prize-winning play, a great review, and sell-out crowds – but Sarah is gone. For sixteen weeks, I have walked with her, sung her songs, and struggled to create her story. She is now almost as real to me as all the tough, strong women I used as models to make her come alive.

In the play (as stated in a 6/2/11/review in the South Whidbey Record), “Sarah McKendree Bonham… introduces the audience to the story of her hard-won life as a pioneer woman in the American West, along with her nine daughters, using the quilts they made over the years as a kind of photo album of their full and sometimes treacherous lives”.

The role was a real challenge: presenting me with enough failure, frustration, and fatigue to last a long time. As the rehearsal process churned along, I was constantly thinking about that very thin line that separates storytelling and theater. For, at times in this play, I was the storyteller, commenting on my own life and the experiences and lives of my daughters, neighbors, etc. But at other times, as an actress, I was “living” them. Slowly, gradually, through the rehearsal process: searching, trying, failing, and trying again, Sarah began to emerge until – finally – it was a joy to share her with an audience! Because this time… in this play, I was not stuck behind any imaginary “fourth wall”; I could (and did!) interact with the audience and their reactions deepened and enriched the character.

But now, Sarah is gone. And I am left with that strange empty feeling that all theater people know so well. The comfort is that I felt her – and the audience felt her – and my work as a storyteller helped make that happen.

*

Sarah and her daughters

“Quilters”, written by Molly Newman and Barbara Damashek, is based on “The Quilters: Women and Domestic Art” by Patricia Cooper and Norma Bradley Allen.

These pictures are from an inter-generational storytelling program I did recently. If you look closely, you may see a sense of pride; a wonderful bit of playfulness in the faces. The program – called “Story Buddies” – was created by Nebraska storyteller, Nancy Duncan, and involves elders sharing stories of their own youth with children or young adults. Later, the young listeners create another version of the story to “share back” with their “buddy”. It sounds so simple – and it is – but, in our modern world with families so fragmented, these kinds of intergenerational exchanges can be few and far between. “Story Buddies” merely revitalizes a kind of communication that is centuries old.

These Story Buddies were residents of an assisted living facility and a middle school Sunday School class. As with most “Story Buddies” programs I have facilitated, both groups were more than a little reluctant at first. Positive and enthusiastic leadership in both groups is absolutely essential. I did a pre-session with the students in which we outlined steps of the program, discussed elders and aging, and practiced oral interviewing. Preparation for the elders consisted of reflecting and remembering when they were the age of their audience – and creating the story.

As a storyteller/ facilitator, it is sometimes wonderful to just stand back and watch what happens. The first thing that happened at this session was the whoosh! of energy when the students came into the room. “Do you feel it?” I asked the elders, and the happy – and dazed – smiles answered my question. I watched, as the respect and good listening skills of the kids energized the elders, making their stories longer and more lively than in practice. A bond was being formed; a new appreciation of one generation by another. And it was FUN!

Pre-School Storytelling: It’s More Than You Think                      

 When I first began my storytelling career, I entered into a contract with a local private pre-school. I would tell stories in their classrooms twice a month from October to May. I am embarrassed to say that– at the time – I thought this would be a temporary assignment – until I could get some “real” bookings. As a veteran teacher and trainer of middle and high school students and adults, I simply did not see myself spending large amounts of time with three, four, and five year olds.

 But, as the first eight months ended and the school asked me to renew the contract, I had second thoughts. First, the children really were beguiling. When they listened, they REALLY listened. The teachers were astounded at this – and so was I.  Second, their signals were unmistakable: if they became bored/fidgety/noisy/agitated – you simply weren’t getting through to them – period. As a beginning teller, I found that strangely reassuring. At least I knew where I stood. And their questions and comments were so fresh. At first they threw me, but then, as time went on, I began to enjoy them; to look for them. They forced me to remain flexible, be spontaneous and playful – just as the children were. And gradually I learned that even the children who didn’t appear to be listening – really were.

 Once, at the end of the first school year, I asked the children to tell me which story they had enjoyed the most. One very shy four year old boy, with a shock of bright red hair and freckles, whispered, “the Bee Story”. During my tellings, this child almost always had his head down and he NEVER participated in any of the stories with the other children. But, somehow, I knew he was listening. And now, he had proved it. The story he referred to had been told- once- six months before.

 So, I signed a contract for the second year. And I began developing a relationship with the teachers as well. Those relationships led me to create workshops  for preschool teachers and to apply for certification as a STARS (State Training & Registry System)  trainer. Since then, I have presented workshops for pre-school teachers and staff, home-school educators, nursery school staff, and parents. I discovered that there were an awful lot of really good stories that were suitable for pre-school audiences. I didn’t have to “dumb” stories down; only adapt them to this audience. For example, I began to discover the importance of repetition in a story. First, it encouraged participation and helped create a sense of community with the children. It also created a curious kind of story rhythm which followed the highs and lows of the story, intensified emotions, and helped build suspense. And it was FUN!  I also discovered that there were an awful lot of really good storytellers who delighted in this particular audience. I vividly remember nationally known teller, Gay Ducey, in a workshop talking about telling to four year olds. “Just give ‘em to me!”, she said, rubbing her hands together.

 That was nine years ago. But now, in the tenth year, my work with the center was coming to an end. Enrollment was down; they had to make cuts. “We’d LOVE to have you, Jill, but…” I was really surprised by how upset I was. It certainly wasn’t the money. True, it was a steady booking and we storytellers need as many of those as we can get. But the money was modest compared to other bookings. It was the children. It was the hush and looks of delight when they saw me walk in the door: “Jill’s here!!!!” How many women of my age are still mobbed and hugged around the knees by a group of pre-schoolers ?? It was the flashes of recognition I saw on their faces and the wonderful insights which came from those spontaneous comments. It was watching a child get utterly lost in a story – and then, slowly, gently helping him or her come back to the room.

 So, last week I met with the school director – and we’re going after a grant. I want to be there and they want me there as well. It’s a symbiotic relationship that none of us want to break.

The 14th was a typical November day: grey and drizzly. In the Coupeville ferry parking lot on Whidbey Island, the rain ran down in beautifully symmetrical rivulets on the roofs of the plastic tents. More than 350 people huddled underneath, drinking coffee and listening to local jazz bands. Television cameramen circled the crowd like huge black wasps with tripod legs. Finally – she came – the MV”Chetzemoka”, sliding out of the fog, green and white and shiny. After two years of looking at the “Steilacoom II”, a much smaller ferry used temporarily on this Port Townsend-Coupeville run, she was BIG.  Children were hoisted on shoulders, cameras snapped, and ferry staff scrambled to get all those folks on board in a quick and orderly fashion.

Ten weeks before, I had been informed that I would be included in the entertainment on this inaugural sailing of the first new Washington State Ferry in a decade. As a long-time teller of maritime tales, I was thrilled. But – what to say on such an occasion?

We,  the performers – the “Shifty Sailors”, a Whidbey Island male maritime chorus and me – got on last and were immediately escorted around the crowd and upstairs to the passenger deck. While the Governor and others gave speeches on the car deck below, we set up music stands and mikes and amps to get ready to perform. Then, suddenly crowds of people started streaming up the stairs.

For weeks, I had thrown story ideas around; done my research. For the story of the “Chetzemoka” was not just the story of a new ferry, but of a 19th Century Indian chief near Port Townsend and an earlier Puget Sound ferry of the same name. It was the story of the Port Townsend citizens who  successfully rallied together to secure that name for the new boat. It was the story of the various shipyards and builders who created her. Finally, the crucial question came to me: in 50 years, what would the story of the “Chetzemoka” be? I have created many similar such stories on historic ferry boats and -always - the story of the boat became the stories of the people connected to her… those who built her and worked on her and rode on her. So… now (I would say)” The story of the “Chetzemoka” is just beginning….” and that is what I said.

But first, the guys launched into a lusty and loud rendition of a new song they had composed just for the occasion. The audience loved it! As they sang, young women in freshly starched white aprons weaved in and out of the crowd with huge trays of sweets.  Finally, the audience quieted – and I told my story, which seemed to create a moment of reflection in the tumult of the celebration. Then – it was over – and I was free to wander about the boat like the other guests. I was introduced to a tall, quiet fellow in a hunting cap. Les Hofstader had been the last captain of the old ferry, “Chetzemoka”. As we talked, I learned that he had once trained the current captain of this new vessel as a young pilot. And so it goes….

As I wandered, I came upon the new name plaque of the ship, polished and gleaming, and remembered the words of  Ivan Olson, son of Berte Olson, the first woman ferry boat captain on Puget Sound and the object of one of my stories. “On Fridays,” Ivan said, “that’s when we shined up all the brass…”  and I hoped that the pride I saw in his eyes would be echoed in the workers on this beautiful new ship.

September 30 – 3:00 - Intercultural Communication class – Skagit Valley College – Clinton, WA

Oct. 9 – 3:00 – FinFest – Coupeville, WA

Oct. 15 – 17 – Forest Storytelling Festival – Port Angeles, WA

Nov. 6th – “Rebecca” – the story of Rebecca Ebey - Ebey’s Landing National Historical Reserve – Coupeville, WA

Nov. 13th – 9:00 – 12:00 – Workshop: “Creating a Character” – Seattle Storytellling Guild – Westside Unitarian-Universalist Church – 7141 CA Ave SW

The rains and the fog are returning. Each day the light leaves a little earlier. The golden sunny days remind us of the summer now past: the chilly nights of the winter to come. As we hunker down for the cold days ahead, I am reminded of the symbiotic relationship between dark and light; the yin and yang of our lives. After the frenzy of “doing” in the warm months, soon it will be time to honor the coming darkness; to get ready to go deep – to be quiet, examine, and reflect. There is such richness there….