Stories are sacred
By Jim Buckell
In group work we often talk about “building the container” at the start of any session. As facilitators we want to make people feel welcome, to create a sense of “safe enough” so they are encouraged to participate.
The aim, by the end of the session – or perhaps after a few sessions if it’s an ongoing group – is to strengthen the connections between people. We are seeking to create a sense of belonging: “This is the group for me”; and of goodwill and trust – “I’ve got their back and they’ve got mine. Now we can get things done.”
Revealing personal information is an important step in the process of group forming. When we invite people to tell us a bit about themselves, we ask them to take a small risk: Will they think me odd or unworthy? On one hand, we need to be accepted for our uniqueness – including all our foibles. On the other hand, we are driven by an irresistible urge to be part of a group / community / work team that’s bigger and more capable than us alone. This tension we hold within ourselves we call the dance of terror and longing.
As part of this process, this dance, we might ask people during a group check-in something as simple as their favourite food, item of clothing, or a facet of spring (insert current season) they enjoy. Or just, “How are you?”. Even revealing minor feelings or details such as these requires us to take a risk. In the moment leading up to our turn, each of us is deciding, whether consciously or not, How far will I go?
Feel your way
As facilitators, this applies to us too: Should I reveal something about myself? Will that help the group? Or get in the way? Take up too much airspace? We never fully know the answer. We have to feel our way and trust our intuition. If it feels okay, it's worth having a crack.
I had an experience a while ago that illustrates this when I decided to go further than I had before. Delivering a module on diversity, rank and power, I told a personal story about spiritual rank. That’s an often overlooked source of rank that draws on the leadership we have shown or the adversity we have overcome during difficult times. On a grand scale, think Nelson Mandela and Long Walk to Freedom.
In this instance, my story about spiritual rank in the LGBTIQ+ community derived from having almost been arrested during a queer rights protest in the early days of Mardi Gras.
My story landed well enough and I thought no more of it. The next time the group met, something unfolded that I am fairly sure was connected to me sharing a bit about myself. One of the participants chimed in about their academic thesis on queer theory during an open discussion. They said their findings had been helpful in their understanding of other marginalised groups. They had expanded the topic we were talking about in a sensitive and thoughtful way.
Till the ground
There had been plenty going on in this group, and there had been a few challenges to work through in earlier sessions. No doubt the “groupness” that was forming had been influenced by a number of interactions. Nevertheless, I asked myself, Would this particular participant’s journey in that group have unfolded in the same way if I hadn’t tilled the ground by telling a personal story? One they could relate to because of their thesis? We can never be certain, but I sensed a bridge had been built that they were ready to cross.
The thing is, we need to give people the space they need if we want them to share parts of their story. Leading by example – in this case, me telling a personal story – models behaviour for the group. I had let them know their stories were welcome too. We then need to proceed with care to ensure any stories that emerge are honoured.
Sometimes we actively ask for personal information, when we are diving deep into our Community of Selves for example. Other times, stories will just bubble up as part of a healthy group process, as in the example above. Regardless, we have to take care that all stories are fully respected. I put together the following checklist to help us capture these moments in groups.
Checklist for honouring stories
Validate
Acknowledge the contribution: “Wow, thanks for sharing Nick, I can see that had a big impact on you.”
Sharing is voluntary
Always stress that everyone gets to decide for themselves how much or how little they reveal of their own story.
Give a story some space
Allow time for a story to settle. Someone jumping in straight away with their own story is not helpful and can be damaging to the original storyteller. This can happen when people are really passionate about a topic. If someone tries to rebut Nick to say that wasn’t their experience, because … Nick is left feeling his story is invalid or secondary. He may withdraw or reconsider how much personal information he will share. Better to pause the group at that point, validate Nick and then, if it’s appropriate, ask if there’s anything else people would like to share.
Pairs are good
As a way of easing into general discussion, pairing and sharing to reveal anything we come up with after some reflection is a great way for people to start feeling comfortable with sharing about themselves. They may choose to tell the bigger group later.
Offer more time
If people are keen to keep going with stories or reflections but time is tight, either recalibrate the agenda then and there or make time at a later date.
Always check-in … and check-out
Personal information often surfaces during initial check-ins and check-outs at the end of a session. This is because we have invited reflection. Making space for these two items is essential, no matter how long or short the session. To avoid the rebuttal of stories, ensure these do not become discussions. The purpose is to give everyone a voice, not to invite responses.
Let your heart guide you
Storytelling is a spiritual activity. Our stories come from deep inside us. We carry them in our bodies, our psyche. Unsurprisingly, they are strongly connected to our emotions. The urge to tell something intimate about ourselves often springs from the gut: “It feels like the right time to reveal this about myself.” Or it may be heartfelt: “I feel this so strongly, I need to let people know.”
Likewise, we need to listen to everyone’s stories with our hearts, not just our minds. With our whole selves engaged, stories will quite naturally be received in the generous spirit they are given.