In the summer of 2018, I went to NYC to go to The Bronx, where my mom grew up, and put some things to rest. She spent a lot of years trying to turn me into something I wasn’t and I wanted to let her know how that turned out. She’d been dead 35 years but I wanted to finally close the book on her in the place it all started.
There was a moment during that trip when I found myself in the food court of a grocery store with a handful of people I’d met through the friend I was staying with.
I was just about to start eating when Doris, a woman I’d known three days, started yelling at Sharice, a woman I’d known two days. Doris was berating Sharice for not going to enough Overeaters Anonymous meetings. Sharice was a single mom with a couple kids and a full-time job. She could only make it to one meeting a week. But that wasn’t enough for Doris.
I listened to her lay into Sharice for about a minute and half until I couldn’t take it anymore. I know what it’s like to have to go to a 12-step meeting. I know what it’s like to be a single parent who doesn’t have the time or energy to take care of himself. Most of all, I know what it’s like to be humiliated in public and too scared to fight back because that might make it worse.
I shot out of my chair and stepped up to Doris. I said everything I wish I’d said to every bully, jock, and meathead who knocked me down or made me the butt of a joke. I laid into her until she turned away and mumbled an apology.
Then I went back to my clam chowder and forgot about it. Almost. Every now and then, over the years, I’d remember that time and wonder who it was that made such a scene in public because he couldn’t watch someone being humiliated.
A couple years ago, the friend I was staying with that week said her friends still talked about “that time in Whole Foods when that guy stood up to Doris.” Hearing that was one of the proudest moments of my life.
One of the reasons I went back to New York was to show my mom that I finally had the courage to stand up to her. She was an actress and hated that I was an introvert. She was always trying to push me onstage and make me perform. “You’re going to die with your secret!” she would yell. She hated that all I wanted to do was read books and write stories. She couldn’t stand that I wasn’t a loud, brash New Yorker like her.
I wish she could have been there that day in the grocery store. I wish she could have seen me just for a moment turn into her, the person I never wanted to be. I wish she could have seen me at my best.
I hope some of you bring your own story about discovering who you are to our show next month. I would love to hear it. We would all love to hear it.
Of course, our themes are just suggestions, so you can tell a story about almost anything as long as it follows our usual rules and guidelines.
The easiest way to come up with a story is to start with a moment that meant something to you. Once you have that, write down all the memories that have something to do with that moment, both before and after it. Then choose 2-3 of those memories to be the story.
Remember that a story isn’t just a series of things that happened. There needs to be something at stake that you overcome by the end.
Practice the story out loud to as many people as possible and time yourself when you’re doing it. Please don’t get onstage if you haven’t practiced your story. The audience is giving you their time and attention. It’s not fair to them if you get up there and try to wing it.
All stories have to be under eight minutes. Stories can be as short as you want, but no longer than eight minutes. Stories also have to be clean in both language and content. Send me an email if you have any questions about that.
Our free monthly online workshop is a great place to get feedback on your story.
I’m also happy to help anyone with a story they’re working on. Email me, and we can set up a phone call.
See you Thursday, August 20 at 7 pm, on the top floor of the Seattle Swedish Club, 1920 Dexter Ave N, Seattle, WA 98109
Paul
Freshgroundstories@gmail.com
Fresh Ground Stories 