Storytelling is the most frequently used form of communicating information or experiences with others and has been around for about 100,000 years. We continue using it because it has become embedded in our genetic experience as an effective and efficient way to connect and communicate with others. I come from a long tradition of storytellers, going back a few generations.
I recall stories my father would tell us every evening while we sat around before bedtime. As I became a physician and specialist in my field, I realized that I continued this tradition with my family and the younger generations and with my extended medical family, medical students, residents, and colleagues. We can use storytelling to share engaging case presentations, data, research, critical thinking, leadership skills, and other aspects of medical education.
A while back, I was preparing a talk on leadership, trying to find a way to present this topic to some colleagues. Suddenly, a time capsule from my childhood came to me. When I was in 5th grade, my teacher Mrs. Combs, wore large glasses and loved to read to us every day after lunch and would tell us to put our heads down on our desks and listen to the story that she was about to read to us.
That year she read two wonderful books: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer. As I thought about leadership for my presentation with my colleagues, a chapter of Tom Sawyer returned to me. It went something like this: One summer day, Tom woke up and opened the bedroom window to a beautiful day. The sky is blue, the birds are singing, and he says: What a wonderful day to go fishing or swimming with his friends!
He dashes to the exit door, only to find his aunt Polly blocking his way. She holds a bucket of white paint and a brush in one hand. She grabs him by the arm before he darts out. She scolds him for his mischief and not keeping up with his responsibilities. Today, he will need to make up for this. She takes him outside, places him in front of the thirty-foot fence, and expects three coats of paint on it.
Tom is devastated and, for the first time, experiences FOMO (fear of missing out) on his grand plans for that day. So, he slowly starts painting the fence with small brush strokes, then broader and more rhythmic strokes. Finally, he realizes that painting the wall is not too bad! Suddenly, one of his friends is standing behind him and requesting an opportunity to paint the fence! Initially, Tom says that he is not sure. His friend empties his pockets and gives him his marbles in exchange for painting the wall. With time other kids are waiting for their shot at participating. As the day passes, a long line of peers is waiting and willing to exchange their toys for a chance at painting the fence!
One of my residents, Dr. Yuri Cheung, recently invited me to present with her at the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry Annual Meeting in Toronto. During this event, she portrayed storytelling beautifully. She exposed storytelling and its place in my family tradition. She elegantly described its use in medical education, especially as it is passed down to her as my resident and those who come after her. In the discussion, I noted that Yuri used an example of “painting the fence!” We can only hope that as we transmit the joy of what we do, some will become curious, others enthusiastic, and if we are lucky, a few will become passionate. At the same time, we wait in line for an opportunity or while we are painting the fence!
Thank you, Dr. Gutierrez
Life isn’t as bad as one may think when one is offered the appropriate tools for the right line of performance… The impotance of being present isn’t so much for ‘storytelling’ but to pay-it-forward, to live to tell of your own experience.
Thanks again,
Reyna Rosa
I agree with you, Rosa, hopefully we are lucky to live to recount our story, but also telling the story is an engagement with others and the possibility of a future dream fulfillment.