Everybody has a story (and why we need to value that more)

When I was teaching high school English and journalism, my favorite assignment was based around the notion that everybody has a story. The idea was inspired by CBS reporter Steve Hartman who used to pick a random city (via dart and map). He'd fly to the city, find the first payphone and phone book he could, choose a random name, and interview whoever answered the phone. Because the whole point was everybody has a story. Whether it was a retiree or a four-year-old, he always found the most heartfelt stories to share, and I found them endearing. 

For my students, we modernized it (because who could locate a payphone and phone book these days?!) and made it slightly safer - choose someone you know - but not well - and interview him or her. Sometimes my students listened and would find someone random - their mail person, the kid who sat behind them in a different class, a bus driver. Most of the time, they chose someone closer to them - a cousin, friend, coworker. But even when they went in with a preconceived idea of what they would write about, they often came out with a totally different story. THAT was my favorite - when they dug a little deeper and got a better story than they originally intended to tell. 

Because everybody has a story. And a really good one at that. 

My love of storytelling started when I was really young. In fourth grade, I started a newsletter about our family. I found one recently, and the stories in it were about my uncles cat and dog, my new haircut (breaking news: I GOT BANGS!), and what we were doing in my class at school. It wasn't groundbreaking, earth shattering reporting, but it was fun, and I liked finding stories (even when, super selfishly, they were about me). 

But that love of storytelling never went away. In high school, I took creative writing. I LOVED it, but I never thrived there. And I couldn't figure out why, because I LOVED stories. 

And then in college, I started writing for The Observer, the conjoined Saint Mary's and Notre Dame student newspaper. I went on to become the Saint Mary's editor in my junior and senior year, and the obsession magnified 15-fold. I'd found my niche. I was a storyteller, just of the non-fiction variety. 

As a teacher, I loved reading the work of my students. Whether we were editing newspaper articles, putting together research papers, or working on personal narratives, I LOVED what my kids wrote. I MISSED those stories when I started staying home, and although I began to document the stories of my children, I knew what was missing was hearing other people's stories. 

Gratefully, I still get to help people tell their stories - this time through jewelry, and selfishly, I love hearing those stories. It's my passion and part of my purpose. But I digress, and I appreciate you sticking to this diatribe this long. 

But it all comes down to this: valuing other people and their stories is what I truly believe is going to change the world. 

Yep, I said it. And I'm sure some of you out there are giving me big eye rolls right about now. But it's so darn true. 

When we listen to each other's stories and learn more about the people in our lives, we grow to understand them. We gain empathy. We gain perspective through their experiences. We might even gain an appreciation for someone and what she's been through. This still doesn't mean you have to want to spend time with every single person you come into contact with (Lord knows there are some personalities that just don't jive!). BUT, it does mean that we might try harder to be a little kinder or extend a polite hello or just give a damn about someone other than ourselves for a minute. 

Every single one of us has a story. We're not ranking them. We're not in competition for the best or worst or most triumphant or saddest. They. All. Matter. Every person. Every story. And if we would take the time, really take the time, to listen to one another, I really think this world has a shot at being a better place.