Stories of Our Lives

My daughter hit me in the head with her baby's baby bottle. Right above my forehead. The bottle was plastic, but it felt like I was beaned with a wrought iron fastball. I winced and reeled and maybe even bleated like a wounded lamb. I saw stars. They were orange. The moons were pink and the clovers green. It was if she had dropped an anvil on my head and then a bowl of Lucky Charms for good measure. My recollection of this incident is understandably hazy. But I'm pretty sure my daughter was smiling. Her transgression left me in a bind. I had always told her mother that when it comes to disciplining our child, I was the "good cop." But after such a brutal assault, what's a good cop to do?

I mention this story because I want to tell it. We all have these stories. And best of all, when we tell these stories, we elicit similar stories in return. And this exchange becomes tidal, creating enthusiasm and synergy between people. Such a connection can kindle much needed warmth on a chilly day. And while these stories may not be headline news or subjects for research journals, they give us color and music in our lives. They give us a sense of identity and importance by way of experiencing and then passing on these stories.

Studs Terkel knew this. He was a celebrated author and story gatherer. A journalist known to draw out fascinating tales of Americana through ordinary Americans. I'll have to admit, growing up, I knew him only in name. I was not familiar with his work. But in reading his obituary in the New York Times I realized his life's work is what many educators already want for their students. Engage in conversations, interview, research, and help bring about an understanding of the people we know through their stories, their words.

So why am I talking about storytelling and Studs Terkel in a technology blog? Today's educational technology includes resources such as computers, Instant Messaging, videoconferencing, audio/video recording devices, blogs, wikis, and a myriad of multimedia tools, all of which are easily accessible and most important, they are magnets for kids. Do you know any children who go home at the end of the school day and devote hours to these devices? Swapping stories eagerly, willfully, soulfully... after the school day ends? Hmm. Where's that rhetorical question. I left it around here somewhere.