Telling Stories with the Elders

I have done storytelling with many different audiences over the years and each is a unique experience. One technique I have found useful, especially as a story starters and also to stimulate memory, is the use of artifacts such as photos and other personal items from jewelry to broken bits of teacups. I have brought things of my own to use and I have also asked participants to bring their own.
Recently, when visiting one of my favorite senior living facilities, I was pleased by the results, but it went deeper than that. It was such a moving experience that I could not do any other work that day, I needed to sort out these thoughts. I’d like to share with you what happened and whether you are a storyteller, friend or relative of someone in a residential facility or even around the dinner table (the holidays are approaching) you can use this idea to get people talking.

I arranged the seating in a circle rather than typical concert style so everyone would feel like part of the whole. Residents were asked to bring things but only two people actually did, and that’s okay. I was prepared to tell my own life stories.
When the residents were situated and ready, I started by explaining why I was there and what we’d be doing. I began by showing them some of the things I brought with me. I had a rock from the Burren in Ireland where I lived alone for three weeks, I had a broken bracelet that my parents brought back for my sister from their honeymoon (Dad was my 5th Birthday present and I got a purse.) My sister died a few months later and I still have the bracelet. I also brought a little jade cat that reminds me of our first kitty Lucki, a small kaleidoscope that reminds me of my friends, and a shell necklace that belonged to my maternal grandmother. There are full stories attached to all these items and I explained to the elders that I collect many things and keep them as reminders and that when disaster strikes and people go through the rubble to find these things, they are not just holding onto material items but looking for the memories that go with them.
I passed the objects around and could see that for some of the participants it was very significant, this was evident in the great care they gave each item as they held it. I told condensed versions of the stories because the goal was to hear them, not me. But they needed a few examples.
I always use a microphone because so many are hard of hearing and passed it around for them to use but some felt uncomfortable using it so I didn’t press the issue.
There were some elders who did not want to speak loud enough to be heard, they were shy or felt their stories had no merit. In which case, I listened to what they said and repeated it for the others on their behalf. That was acceptable to all.
It is very typical when listening to someone tell a story, especially a personal one, to have one story remind you of another. This readily happened with this particular group. Someone would mention something and the whole group would come to life with similar stories. If we got to a quiet spot where nobody had anything to say, I would tell a story and/or ask a question. For example I said "My grandfather made cotton candy" and someone shouted "My father used to make candy" etc.
One woman in particular has Alzheimer’s and she would blurt out during someone else’s story something about herself as it came to mind. I let her do that and acknowledged it because a moment later, she might not recall that memory. The other elders, knowing her situation were very supportive. She said "I made hats. I worked at Chic’s." I asked where it was and she didn’t know. The other elders did and they told me and she suddenly recalled another fact, "I repaired holes in veils." These little snippets of memory were repeated by her several times but the details continued to grow until by the time we were finished I know she had worked in a hat shop repairing veils. The shop was named Chic Mae’s [sic] and may have been located in the Broadway District of Buffalo. Her father owned a candy store, possibly named Honey Bunchies, and he was known for some kind of caramel filled suckers.
Another woman has always told me that she worked at a women’s shop called Slotkins in downtown Buffalo. Knowing this I asked her to share her story. She is somewhat senile and never remembers that she told me the story before, but I always listen as if it the first time I heard it. She smiled but said "Oh nobody wants to hear that. Why do you want to hear it?" I told her that I loved the story and she took the microphone. (I let them stay in their seats since most have trouble moving around.)
When she was finished I learned something new about her story. As I had heard it before, she worked at Slotkins and ran it for years. She had 15 fashion shows each year. The new part I learned was that she inherited the store and was trained in fashion at a design school her parents sent her too. That she also knew all the markets in New York City. So, she was a buyer too.

BTW, she wasn’t going to share beyond the fact that she worked at the store but I asked her to share about the fashion shows which she had told me about before, and she then went even further. We need to ask our elders to tell these stories even if we think we’ve already heard them. She smiled the whole time.
I had regulars and new folks. One woman who was new wouldn’t let go of my hand afterward and must have hugged and thanked me four times before she was finally pulled off to go have her lunch.
We shared stories about jobs, the way the city used to be, the games we played as kids (they loved when I demonstrated my hopscotch technique), penny candies, family and so on and so on. They all voted yes to doing this again and said how much they love when I come visit. But the best experience for me was yet to come.

As I was wheeling my sound system down the hall I passed a man in a scooter. I smiled and said hello.

He smiled back but when I went to pass him he said "Well, wait a minute. Don’t go so fast." I stopped and he asked if I worked there.

I said "No, I am a storyteller and just did some work with the other residents."

His face lit up, a mischievous twinkle in his eye and he asked "So, you’re a storyteller. What kind of stories?"
My usual spiel is folk tales, fairy tales, personal stories, ghost stories, original tales and for all ages, but I only got to say fairy tales when he interrupted.
"You mean to tell me that grown people and those who aren’t (sign of crazy), are willing listen to fairy tales?"
"Yep," I said. "They never were for kids ya know."
"Well I don’t think you could tell me one of those."
"I was here today to get all of you to tell your stories."
"Well, I don’ think I would do that. I don’t have any stories."
"Can I ask you a question?"
He said "Sure."
"Were you ever in the military?"
"Was I in the military, well Missy let me show you...hold on."
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his billfold, from that he took a card and handed it to me.
"Nobody believes unless I show them that."
It was his military ID card encased in plastic to keep it safe.
"Canadian Infantry?" I read.
"Where is it from?" he asked. "Issued?"
"Overseas!" I said. You were overseas, where?"
"Glasgow."
By the time we were done talking I found out that he was in the Canadian military stationed in Glasgow, was born in Canada but moved here with his wife. She died here of cancer. They moved here at the request of her sister so they could be near each other and he gave up his Canadian citizenship.
"I can’t go back," he said. "Well, maybe they’ll let me now, but I gave it up for my wife."
"You loved her so much you gave up your citizenship for her?"
He got a great big smile on his face.
"I loved her more than anything in the world."
He had no story to tell?

Now I hope you can see why I was not able to focus on anything else that day. My brain was just swimming with all the stories and how effective this can be.
If you have elders in your families, I hope you will try this during the holidays. Get the whole family together with the children too, sit at the feet of your elders and listen to their lives. You will be so glad you did.