Storytelling.

The power of community and sharing your story

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I attended an event this week with my internationally best-selling author and writing mentor extraordinaire, Joanna Fedler. She was one of six women taking the stage as part of a monthly social women’s meet up called Generation Woman Australia.

Established in Australia in 2018 Generation Women has welcomed over 10,000 women to their monthly events, and have a vision of uniting and empowering 100,000 women through storytelling events and initiatives over the next 10 years. Each month a new theme invites six women to share their story in a live open mic story slam style event. They empower storytelling for women of all ages; with a representative from each generation in their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s and 70s+ taking the stage each night.

Almost 100 women took seat to laugh, ooh, shed a tear, clap, cheer and celebrate the richness of six women’s courage, life experience, and hilarious tales of love’s beginnings and endings. I was so inspired by their stories, the realness of their storytelling capacity, the secret and hidden truths of a life fully embraced, their honesty about fear, anger, disappointment, self-criticism, self-righteousness, and their humour. I was engrossed in each woman’s story, and sat back in my chair with a smile on face at the fullness of one person’s life. And how important it is for us to take the stage.

We have so much to share with each other.

Indigenous Australians have passed stories from generation to generation for over 65,000 years. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples’ storytelling is an oral tradition that educated and informed generations about creation, culture, ceremony and law, as well navigation routes and survival, catastrophic changes in landscape such sea level changes and adverse weather conditions.

The Dreaming or Dreamtime, a commonly used term coined by early anthropologists, describes Aboriginal spiritual beliefs and existence. It is the foundation of their religion and culture and details the events of how the universe and humans came to exist, and how humans were intended and expected to function within the world.

Because of modern society and advancements in technology for instant and distant communication, we have lost this art of storytelling. We know not of our forefathers, the law of the land, and the intimate connection we have to mother nature, the land, and each other. But through these live community storytelling events, this is changing.

When my children’s book, The Adventures of Kenzie-Moo, was published in 2018 by Joanne Fedler, she introduced me to her friend and creative muse, Anna Kellerman. Anna, a Sydney based educator, art therapist and creative extraordinaire, founded Mama Creatives to bring creative women together to share their stories. Anna fashioned events that welcomed women from all walks of life to share their story at Story Slam events, which became a potent and diverse way for women to find and share their voice through a creative outlet.

I was offered the final spot to her Story Slam in November 2018 with the theme joy. It was one month after the launch of The Adventures of Kenzie-Moo which presented a timely opportunity to share my book with an untapped audience. As part of the story writing and telling process, Anna engaged renowned Australian stage and screen actor, Heather Mitchell, to educate and support us in the craft of storytelling so we could share our powerful stories, beautifully curated. I wasn’t able to attend the workshop but by some stroke of luck, I was invited by Heather to her home in eastern Sydney for a private three-hour workshop to share my story with her, and work on my piece for the event.

Overlooking the spectacular harbour, with butcher’s paper and coloured texters sprawled across Heather’s dining table, I took a moment to land in her space, and her magic. I couldn’t help but wonder, what is my life? Saying yes has taken me to places I couldn’t dream of.

Heather listened to fragments of my journey, like pieces of a puzzle, from birthing a disabled child into the world, becoming a single mother and moving back to Australia, sharing a single bedroom with Mackenzie (my daughter), the challenges of meeting her needs through her compromised development, travelling around Australia in a caravan and writing a children’s book about our adventures. Heather, with her keen eye for detail and perspective, guided me to write a story that I was incredibly proud to share.

I was the last of the six women to take the stage and share my story in front of a 100 men and women. I took a deep breath and the room fell silent. The stage lighting shone on my face and blackened the sea of people in front of me. I could only see the faces of the five women who’d shared their incredible stories before me, seated in the front row. I said the first sentence, and then, as though someone clicked delete, the entire story evaporated from my memory. I stood there, silent, a microphone at my lips, looking at the crowd, waiting for the words to come back to me. I breathed. Fuck. I breathed. Shit. I breathed. Stay calm.

And then, like a flood gate opening, the words pirouetted across my tongue and into the crowd, in a delicate dance of poetry-like storytelling. The audience rested on the tip of my tongue, moved by my words like a partner spun in a waltz. You could have heard a pin drop in that underground dumpling bar in Bondi Junction. As the crowd erupted in applause, I spotted Joanne in the audience and cupped my mouth with my hands, a smile beaming across my face. I had danced with them with my words; my story.

Heather’s presence, as well as Joanne’s, and their praise and celebration felt like a giant hug. The way Heather’s hands deliberately rested on my shoulders as she held my gaze without saying a word before embracing me in her arms, and the way Joanne wrapped her strong and tender arms around my neck and squeezed the life out of me as she giggled and repeated my name shaking her head, made my heart swell with pride. It felt like a homecoming. To be seen, and heard, was the greatest gift.

Reading Joanne’s memoir, When Hungry, Eat, and Heather’s memoir, Everything and Nothing, back-to-back, gave me the courage, inspiration and tenacity to finish my memoir last year. It’s now in its final editing stages. Having the balls to share your story, in any way, and on any platform, gives other people permission to do the same. A rich and ancient practice to pass down knowledge and wisdom, to connect and be entertained, storytelling has enriched, educated and connected people across the globe since the dawn of time.

It is our nature to speak and listen, to connect and share. An unbearable load can lighten, a breaking heart can mend, and the all-encompassing feeling of aloneness can be lifted when we connect with others who have lived through similar experiences. It is in our nature to connect – we are designed at the most fundamental level to be with and within the experience of each other. And as the world pans out into experiences of fewer intimate relationships and opportunities to fulfil this innate need for connection, it is imperative that we make conscious effort to link in with people that feel good, and to create safe and sacred spaces where we can openly and honestly share our stories. Because every voice matters.

As I drove home across the Sydney Harbour Bridge after the Generation Women Australia event, I returned home to give thanks to my daughter’s support worker, and relieve her of her evening shift. As a single mother with the extra demands of being a special needs mother, my capacity to participate in the world, to adventure, travel, experience, connect, and be of service, relies on the care and support from many people around us. I cannot live my life free of the community and support that’s needed to raise and nurture a child, and her mother. It really does take a village. My story is intertwined with many others. An interconnectedness weaves us together like a tapestry. Community. We are one and the same, incapable of separation. Together, we have so much to enjoy, celebrate, share and create.

A sea of women listening to six women’s stories. Left, Anna Kellerman (Founder Mama Creatives). Second from left, Antonia Perricone (artist), and me, Tanya Savva.