PLAYING WITH NARRATIVE ARCHETYPES - Stephanie Ramer
The Sage. The Elder. The Innocent. The Fool. When we listen to a fable, read a novel, or watch a movie, we almost inherently recognize archetypes like these and understand the place they hold in the narrative. They represent our shared human experiences and storytelling can serve as our way to understand and draw meaning from those shared human experiences.
Last fall, I had the privilege of attending a Transformative Storytelling retreat in Northern Ireland. (You can learn more about these amazing experiences at www.irelandretreats.com - I urge you to go.) As I reflected on the intentionality with which the retreat’s co-leader shared stories, I began thinking more about the practice of storytelling. I became curious about how a particular story came to be shared over other stories. I began paying attention to who was doing the telling, and wondering about how they came to know the story. I listened more deeply to how the story was being told and whether it reinforced or challenged stories I already knew. And, I acknowledged the biases stemming from mybackground and upbringing. As a white American cis woman, my stories are part of a dominant narrative, one that often obscures or omits stories from other voices. As I thought more deeply about stories, I began to play with the idea of archetypes.
As the retreat progressed, and I heard stories from different voices and perspectives, this idea of archetypes based on Stories rattled around in my head. And finally, late one night in my dark room along the Belfast Lough, I jotted down ideas on my phone so I wouldn’t forget them. What emerged were four archetypes based on Story–the Teller, the Collector, the Holder, and the Creator. As I mused about the characteristics of each, along with what the blessings and cautions each might provide, I also thought about which archetype felt most familiar to me and what I might learn if I opened myself to embrace those archetypes that didn’t feel as comfortable to inhabit.
The Teller
The Teller is a connector, a community-builder, and an engager. If we are lucky, we have had multiple Tellers in our lives. These are the people who can take any anecdote and present it in a way that captivates those of us listening, weaving us together as the story slowly unravels. They create a sense of belonging, reinforcing the fact that we are each a part of something bigger than ourselves. A gifted Teller engages our hearts, our minds, and our senses as they draw us into the story. At the very least, the Teller brings us together and creates community for the duration of the story. But at their best, a Teller creates space for us to be changed by the story. Their simple act of telling a story becomes a radical act of change.
Just as the Teller carries a responsibility to honor a story without locking it down or distorting it, the Teller also needs to understand and honor a story’s original place in time. Failing to do so shifts the story and changes the impact. Growing up in the Mennonite church, Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount was familiar scripture. “But I tell you,” he said, “do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.”
Simply told without the cultural context of the time, the verse can become a cliché Sunday School lesson about not fighting. But when retold with historical detail, this seemingly simple lesson becomes a subversive act of standing up to authority. In Jesus’ day, an aggressor would strike a subordinate with the back of their right hand. By turning the other cheek, the aggressor was stuck with a dilemma. Either they had to use the back of their left hand which would violate cleanliness norms, or strike with the open palm of their right hand, which is how one would strike an equal. Jesus as story Teller is not just offering platitudes about not fighting and taking a higher road. Jesus is offering a creative example of nonviolent resistance.
The Teller must be cognizant of the stories they choose to tell and those they choose not to tell. Too many stories have been silenced. I have only recently heard stories of the generational trauma in Native American families due to children being taken from their homes and sent to boarding schools. These children’s stories were lost as they were forced to abandon their language and traditions. Imagine returning home and no longer understanding what your grandmother is saying. Imagine being told that the stories which shaped your understanding of the very world around you were wrong.
The Teller has the power to cause harm, particularly if they tell a story at someone else’s expense or in a way that does not honor those in the story. A story can be revealed tenderly but if a story is told in a mocking or derisive manner, the story becomes a weapon. A story can be told in a way that manipulates and creates division by defining who is in and who is out. If the Teller shares a story that is not yet theirs to tell, they violate trust. And if the Teller is focused on themselves and the act of storytelling, their role becomes performative. The story and the universal truth it holds becomes second to the Teller’s need to be at the center of attention.
The Collector
The Collector is a curious seeker, energized by stories. With eyes wide open, the Collector recognizes that every story has something to teach, to offer–and so with an expansive heart, makes space to take in stories that differ from their own. They actively seek out stories. Collecting stories is how they listen and honor others. Several years ago, my youngest son spent a gap year traveling and volunteering around the world, including a three-month stay in the West Bank. Before he went, I didn’t know much about Palestine. I didn’t understand what it might mean to live in an occupied territory. I didn’t understand what checkpoints were and how they impact nearly every facet of Palestinian daily life. The Palestinian story was not one I grew up hearing but as my son traveled, and in the years since, I have sought out novels and memoirs by Palestinian authors. When a peoples’ stories are not known, it is too easy to “other” and dehumanize them.
The Collector has a responsibility to honor stories without clinging to them or claiming them as their own. Great damage is done if the Collector takes on the persona or background based on stories they have gathered from a culture other than their own. It is one thing to respect a culture by listening to and learning from their stories. It is another thing entirely to begin claiming those stories as part of your own identity. What might start as respect and honoring becomes distorted into misrepresentation and appropriation.
The Holder
The Holder sits in the present with an openness, receiving stories freely and holding them gently. The Holder understands that the person sharing their story cannot be separated from it, their story is an integral part of them. As such, the Holder listens without judgement, listens to what is being said but equally important, to what is not being said. The Holder does not share the story with others unless given explicit permission to do so. And if allowed to share, does not reframe, revise, or rearrange the story to make a better narrative. The story is held tenderly and accepted as a sacred gift.
In my mid-twenties I experienced my first panic attack. My anxiety was triggered by the sense of feeling trapped and for several years, the most mundane of circumstances–like standing in a grocery check-out line or waiting at a red light– induced a sense of dread and threat. I tried to avoid situations that I thought might bring on the panic. I was embarrassed that what seemed so easy for everyone else was an ordeal for me, and I kept it all inside. When I finally found the courage to share openly with a dear friend, my anxiety lessened, and the panic attacks subsided. I received a gift from the Holder, experiencing firsthand how a story held with compassion has the power to transform pain.
The Holder must be mindful of boundaries. If the Holder identifies too closely with the story, they might begin to slip into the story as if it were their own, blurring or altering the Holder’s own story. If the Holder is presented with a story which contains a truth not yet accepted or acknowledged by the Holder in their own life, they may reject the story and violate the trust in which it was shared.
The Creator
The Creator is an open-minded realist. They not only see what is, but also what could be. The Creator is the rearranging, rule-breaking, questioner. They take a known story and find a new twist. Children create new stories effortlessly through play. And the next generation is creating a new story based on their vision of the future. Mennonite Action is a non-profit organization led by young political organizers. Their monthly mass call includes participants of all ages and the presenters introduce themselves by stating their name, their pronouns, their location, and acknowledge the original inhabitants of the land. In one statement, the younger generation is modeling a new story of gender and place.
When I was a kid, I was very quiet and always had my nose in a book. The word shy was often used to describe me and “the shy one” was the story I internalized. It influenced the way I saw myself and how I interacted with others. But about 10 years ago, I realized this story no longer fits. I am quiet, yes, but I’m definitely not shy. I get a lot of energy from meeting new people and finding common ground. I love making connections. Something significant shifted inside me the day I realized the story I had long held about myself could change. I no longer had to own “shy” as my story and could instead embrace a new story of curious engagement. A confidence and sense of delight emerged as I wondered what stories were yet to come. Creating a new story has the power to transform.
So who might you be? Who does the world need you to be? Be a Teller, giving voice to those traditionally unheard. Be a Collector, seeking out stories different than your own and in doing so, find a shared humanity. Be a Holder and provide a safe and tender space for stories that are difficult for someone to share. Be a Creator, recognizing that if you want to live in a more kind and just world, you can find ways to bring that new story to life. In the current political climate of false narratives and dehumanization, Telling, Collecting, Holding, and Creating stories may be the very acts of resistance that will save us.
