As a young girl growing up in Nairobi, I had the pleasure of hearing Wangari Muta Maathai, the founder of the Green Belt Movement, speak truth to power in 1985. Her passion for women’s rights and the environment came through in her conversation. Her famous stories like the little hummingbird who put out a forest fire by carrying one beak full of water at a time lit a fire of Afrocentric feminism in an entire generation of young Kenyan women. The art of storytelling in social activism is critical to what Paolo Friere has called conscientization or the process of changing the world. Wangari believed in lived experience, recognized the rooted knowledge of women farmers, and the critical role of self-empowerment in a context of social resistance. Fueled by her stories and advocacy, the Green Belt Movement has planted over 51 million trees in Kenya, demanded greater democratic spaces for disenfranchised people, and empowered the livelihood of communities across the country.
Cultural traditions across the world bloom with the oral tradition of storytelling for awareness-raising, and I was fortunate enough to grow up with both an East African and Indian embrace of this art form. I was blessed with many fiery female storytellers in my life. They, like Scheherazade, have shared everything from practical advice to moral guidance through their 1001 stories, that traversed intergenerational and cultural boundaries to empower my journey to myself.
Recently, I was fortunate enough to work with students at Seneca College and the Krasman Centre to host a trialogue event in York Region. A trialogue is a unique gift to mental health movements as it allows psychiatric survivors, families/friends, and service providers to engage in storytelling as a way to heal and create positive change. Our trialogue was conducted in the spirit of anonymity and the fifty participants in our circle did not reveal their identity. The conversation was led by survivors who helped us co-create ground rules and asked all of us around the circle to share topics to guide our storytelling. While we couldn’t guarantee a safe space, we could offer a brave space for people to give voice to critical experiences. Here, I saw the power of storytelling crackle and spark. The stories and questions that unfurled from the circle were truly profound – How can I cope with loneliness as a caregiver? What does it mean to have a mental health crisis? How do I help my son maintain hygiene during a crisis? How can I help a friend who is afraid to leave her home? How do we create jobs that allow people with mental health histories to engage meaningfully in society? The stories powerfully hooked us in and held our attention, and we became part of the communal narrative. That little grassroots community space in Richmond Hill was transformed. We saw each other for the first time, bowed down to the highest in each of us, and nurtured the flame to protect all of our human rights. Stories truly help people understand the political nature of our experiences. We were able to connect the dots across our unique experiences and bridge the distances between silences caused by stigma. People had the courage to find out about resources in our neighbourhoods, seek out voices of people who are otherwise silenced, and begin to shift community consciousness towards empathy and inclusion. The stories had filled our hearts and bellies and lifted us up to action.
How do you make time for stories of resistance in your community? Here is one of my favourite stories shared by Wangari Maathai: http://www.greenbeltmovement.org/get-involved/be-a-hummingbird And here is a link to the Krasman Centre, a powerful peer-led organization filled with stories of hope and resilience: https://krasmancentre.com/