By Bev Jackson-Cotter

Bev Jackson-Cotter is a member of The Albert Lea Art Center, 226 W. Clark St. in Albert Lea.

I was introduced to storytelling about 25 years ago and at the time my thought was, “So, what is the big deal?”

It didn’t take long for me to recognize its importance in our lives. Telling stories seems like such an old fashioned idea in today’s technological world. Yet, as I share stories with various groups of various ages in various locations, I realize just how valuable the personal communication is in a setting of real people — not a phone or computer connection.

Recently at the Iowa State Fair, I shared a story about a husking hook — a real story about a real person, a man in a nursing home whose memory of his corn husking championship brought him back to his youth. As I shared his experiences, the connection with the fair audience was immediate. Even though the majority of people hadn’t known what a husking hook was, soon they were nodding their heads, smiling or sympathizing, and we were connecting in a way that could only happen through a personal story in real life.

Following the program, a gentleman I did not know came up to me and said, “I recently found my Grandpa’s husking hook.”

The look on his face was proud and warm, like we both understood and had this in common. Our conversation evolved into comments like “Only one ear of corn at a time and one hundred bushels a day,” “Compare that to today’s combines with global positioning,” “Have you ever used a husking hook?” and “How hard they worked.”

It was like we were old friends with lots to talk about. Our conversation became a series of stories.

The first storytelling festival I attended included performers who shared folktales, fairy tales, legends and dramatic situations supposedly connected to real life, often with a moral that was universal and ageless. The program was entertaining, interesting and fun, but it wasn’t until I heard people sharing real stories about real life that I got caught up in the value of connecting.

It is interesting to note that the National Storytelling Network in Jonesborough, Tennessee, in its August/September, 2016 magazine has recognized a new renaissance in the art of personal storytelling.

When my sister died, we found her diaries. For most of her 87 years, she recorded daily incidents, sometimes only just a few words. Yet, as I read her diary entries, I came to know her better than I ever had. She was telling me through the written word her experiences, her successes and her disappointments. I learned more about her than I had ever known — what it was like attempting to meet her daily quota as she worked as a welder during World War II, then adjusting to life with her new husband when he returned from the war, bringing his experiences and memories back home. Her stories are a priceless part of my heritage.

Through storytelling, I have come to know people in a deeper and stronger way than I ever dreamed possible — funny incidents that put us in embarrassing situations, characters that have come into our lives that we remember with amusement and who teach us life lessons, or people who make a difference through a few words or an understanding look.

We have a special friend who was an auctioneer and now has Parkinson’s disease. His shaking hands and voice are visible and audible signs of the progression of the disease, yet when he is sharing a story and moves into his auctioneer’s call, he is young and strong again; a little miracle.

The dictionary definition of storytelling includes such descriptive words as fable, chronicle, fib, lie, tale and newspaper article, yet, my personal description is “real life told by someone whose experiences define their personality.”

I love to listen to people share their stories, not to entertain, but to connect. Their stories bring us together, where we find our commonalities, where we become friends.