1. Leah Giarritano
February 5, 2011
LIS409LEA
Storytelling in Your Daily Life
Prior to the start of this course, I had the preconceived notion that storytelling was a
formal process undertaken by professionals trained in the art of storytelling. Of
course, I had the quaint images of yesteryear in the back of my mind with Pa Ingalls
sitting around the hearth telling stories to his family, but I thought those were
remnants of a bygone era which were since replaced by formal storytellers and
storytelling experiences. While I always yearned to be on the prairie with Pa
snuggled up around the fire with all the other Ingalls kids listening to his tales, I
never imagined that I was a storyteller or that I engaged in storytelling on a daily
basis. Although not the dynamic, polished storyteller appearing at a storytelling
event or the figure gathering her family around the fire for an evening story after
dinner, I too am a storyteller in my own right.
Since beginning this course, and especially since I started journaling about the
storytelling experiences in my daily life, I have come to realize that my life is full of
wonderful and rich stories. I am the giver and receiver of both experiences in a way
that I didn’t previously recognize.
I love to tell stories. I like to take my time and share the details, big and small, of
occurrences from my day with my family. I tend to be dramatic when I recreate the
scenes I’m capturing and enjoy making my children laugh. I use facial expressions,

2. hand gestures and try to be as animated as possible to engage them and capture
their attention. I feed off their interest and amusement, which further encourage
and animate my story. In studying myself over the past several weeks, I’ve also
honed in on my use of exaggeration as a means of adding color and dimension to my
stories. I’ve noticed that I even get questioned by my husband regarding whether or
not what I’m saying actually happened or if I’ve exaggerated just a bit. Speaking of
my husband, I do find that I tailor my stories based on my audience. Where my
children definitely love my long, colorful depictions, my husband much prefers a
more succinct, matter-of-fact version.
What is most interesting to me is that the majority of this storytelling has been
happening “under the radar,” at least under my radar. I’m truly amazed that
storytelling is such a large part of my life even though it’s always something that has
sounded intimidating to me. Of course, I realize that most of my stories are being
told to those with whom I am extremely close and comfortable being myself. In front
of people I don’t know very well, the experience wouldn’t be as natural or
comfortable and probably not as frequent, especially without a lot of thought and
practice. Most of my observed storytelling experiences are off the cuff and
spontaneous.
In examining the origins of my storytelling experiences, I realize my Dad has played
a major role in shaping my storytelling life. I grew up listening to stories about his
childhood. I see clearly that it is his way of feeling close to me and sharing memories
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3. that are important to him. With twelve siblings, he has many funny and outlandish
stories about growing up in a house with that many children. More than just trying
to be funny though, it is clear to me that he always tries to share a piece of himself in
his stories, something that I’ll remember and maybe even choose to pass along to
my children. I believe that it’s his way of documenting and preserving our family’s
history. As a child, his stories were often told to me as we drove around in the car
together. He enjoyed (and still does) incorporating locations into his stories and
would often drive us to far-off destinations so I could see the lake where the hook
went through his lip, the apartment my great grandparents lived in when he was a
child, or the dental office he went to when he got his first tooth pulled. I, too, have
found that I now drive my children past notable locations from my youth when we
return to the town I grew up in to visit my Mom. As we pass my old house, the place
where I first worked or even my old schools, I enjoy sharing stories about that time
in my life to reveal a piece of my historyto them, just like my Dad did with me.
My Mom, one of six children, grew up poor. As she told me about her childhood I
realized that, because she was surrounded by a loving family, she was happy in spite
of her challenges. She spent her days playing with her siblings around the
neighborhood because their house was too small to play inside. They climbed trees,
collected American Indian arrowheads, played house, and hide and seek. What
surprised me most was that, other than a rusty old tea set, they had no toys growing
up. She had no dolls, balls, jump ropes or hula-hoops and despite this, she had a very
happy childhood filled with adventure, fun and familial bonds. This story of her
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4. childhood had a tremendous impact on me as I grew up. I always felt very
thankfulfor the things I had and (even without any siblings to play with) realized
that I could have fun without material things. Even today, this lesson from my
Mom’s childhood is woven into the fabric of my being. As a mother, I am keenly
aware of and concerned about overindulgence. I know that being a kid is less about
what you have and more about the connections you make with the people around
you. I try to pass this lesson along to my children by reminding them that they’re
lucky to have one another,that they don’t need material objects to be happy, and
that the unhappiest people are often those who have too many things because they
are never satisfied with what they have, always wanting more to fill a void created
by a lack of meaningful interpersonal relationships.While my girls certainly have
much more than a single tea set, I still incorporate this very important childhood
lesson into my own parenting. For birthdays and Christmas, we often ask that,
instead of toys, games and clothes, the kids receive experiences such as classes that
they’ll enjoy or time spent with their grandparents at a playor some other venue. I’m
sure that, as my Mom was sharing stories about her childhood, she never realized
theywould have such a tremendous effect on my life.
My daughters are my favorite storytellers. From simple stories about their
experiences at school to fantastical tales created by their very healthy imaginations,
I feel honored to be the beneficiary of their stories. I love to connect with my oldest
daughter, Ava (6), right before she goes to bed. She enjoys telling me about her day
and, like me, adds drama and humor to her narratives. I can tell she loves when I
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5. laugh and that this further encourages her storytelling. On the weekends, she often
creates stories and then enlists the help of her younger sister in acting them out for
her daddy and me, much to our delight. These storytelling experiences are usually
very well planned, with scenery, costumes, scripts and announcements before and
after the presentation.My youngest daughter, Mia (3), has created a whole world
with her baby dolls (or “kids” as she calls them) and loves to tell me stories about
what her dolls are thinking and feeling, what they did that day and how much they
love their Mommy (her). Her sweet innocence, gentleness and creativity melt my
heart. She often makes up dialogue for them as she is telling her stories, and her
facial expressions and hand gestures are hysterically funny and priceless. The
innocence and enthusiasm my children instinctively inject into their stories is
infectious and leaves me anxious for their next story!
In the past few weeks I have become more aware of all the stories around me. From
the girl at the grocery store to a friend at the health club, my life is rich and full of
colorful, interesting tales. While I know I’ve always been listening, I find myself
being more present for these experiences now that I recognize them as stories, or
gifts bestowed upon me, often spontaneously as I walk through my day. There is
something that makes them more special and important by recognizing them as
pieces of people’s lives that they are sharing with you, whether they make you
laugh, cry or simply open up and connect with another person. I am now much more
present and aware of these experiences than I have ever been in the past. Through
theobservation exercise in this course, I have opened myself up to the beauty of
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6. storytelling, the pleasure it brings to those around you and the importance of its role
in sharing one’s life with others. This new perspective has allowed me to reflect on
and embrace the power of storytelling.
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