Stories and Truth

Storytelling is an art and it seems to me that it can be used to heal injustices and hurts caused by others. It involves a teller and an audience. It's as simple as that. Stories can be told by both men and women of all ages. In some cultures, it is men who hold the place as storytellers, and in other cultures, it is the women who lead in this role - many times in more private venues. Certainly fables tell us stories that communicate a lesson through indirect means - the tortoise took his time in his race against the hare and despite the hare's speed, the tortoise won as he was slow and methodical - the lesson . . . don't rush things and what is perceived as truth is not necessarily so.

Storytelling, like all the arts, provides an intuitive or non-discursive, way of knowing - offering up a fresh perspective of how we perceive our world. We are united in the relationships that are created in the process of either telling or by acting as listener and witness to the telling. Stories offer us an opportunity to get a glimpse of the Other and expand our imagination.

Stories are not always verbal. They can be told in a variety of ways and can be either fictional truths - truth with a bit of artistic license thrown in - or they can be a recounting of our personal experiences.

Below is an example in which visual art and the written word are combined as a means of storytelling. American photographer Judy Gelles worked with inner city fourth graders in various cities throughout the United States. The image and words below convey a personal story by just a few words and the image enhances the tale by creating a feeling of  . . . perhaps shame, perhaps barriers, or grief.

  

Stories can also be told without the use of words. Images alone and a moment of thought and imagination from the viewer/recipient, can communicate a wealth of information. When I was working throughout the Sri Lankan Jaffna Peninsula after the 2004 tsunami, I asked some young women to paint an image that would tell a story. The watercolour below was painted by an eighteen year old who had survived both the tsunami and the civil war. The image not only tells her own personal narrative, but also conveys a collective story that is representative of what so many experienced during this and other natural disasters.

I wonder though, can telling stories that are true sometimes re-open wounds? Is it sometimes better to forgive and forget in order to reconstruct our lives? Evidence has shown that sharing stories is an important part of individual's healing, but is it always beneficial? Is this notion yet another construct of the global north - one in which we impose our practice on those living in the global south? Is it applicable in all cases?  How do we, and why should we, retell narratives that might speak of atrocities when a community is trying to reconstruct their lives. For instance in post-war reconciliation where children have been both victim and perpetrators of violence, is it necessary for the victims of their violence to retell stories publicly, or is there a risk to the general well-being of those trying to re-integrate these children into the community? Does the risk out weigh the benefit?

In many ways telling truthful stories can help to rebuild a community but we must use caution - it is not a "one size fits all".