A Birthright of Stories

The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative.

– Bruce Feiler, The New York Times

Like many, I grew up with stories. A collection of bedtime fairy tales, Nancy Drew, the Choose Your Own Adventure series, as well as The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings series because my oldest brother was in to Tolkien and I read whatever I could get my hands on. I inhaled stories.

I also had scores of family stories. I learned about how, when Dad and his brother were little, they got hauled down to the local police station for throwing mud balls at cars. They were fingerprinted and thrown into a cell, all very Mayberry style. He figures the cops were trying to scare them into better behavior to help out their mom, who was working hard to raise four very rambunctious boys on her own.

I learned about Mom’s experience as a leader in pep club, and that time when the whole club slept at her house when rain intruded on their camp out. Girls in the kitchen, girls in the hallway, a girl in the tub–girls sleeping everywhere but in Grandma and Grandpa’s bedroom. I’m guessing not a lot of actual sleeping happened that night.

I heard more serious stories too, about Grandma Smith’s sorrow when the love of her life died and Grandpa Brown’s harrowing experiences as a B-29 gunner in WWII.

The stories of my family–ups and downs, wins and loses–create a coherent and consistent narrative that connects me to generations. My people have long experienced difficulty and ease, sorry and joy. They went through challenges that are hard for me to comprehend. But–and here’s the important thing and my take away from a lifetime of listening–they ultimately weathered the storms and lived to tell the tales.

In January, I sent my family members a link to this New York Times Article, “The Stories That Bind Us.” It details how children who have a strong family narrative are more resilient. Feeling the truth of this in my own life, I wanted to encourage all of us to keep the storytelling rolling so that my nieces and nephews get the same benefit. The article’s author, Bruce Feiler, highlights that,

“The more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned.”

This finding came from a study pursued just two months before 9/11. The researchers assessed the same children in the aftermath of the tragedy, and found that, again, those who knew more about their families were better able to moderate the resulting stress and trauma. The sense that they were part of a larger whole gave them strength.

We find ourselves now in the grip of a global crisis, the likes of which we haven’t seen for generations. A layer of anxiety weighs heavy on us as we navigate in the unknown. What will happen in coming weeks and months? Am I prepared to face whatever it is? Will we be safe? How will this change us as a nation, as a people, as families, as individuals?

I don’t have a lot of answers right now. What I do have is proof that my family has traversed troubled times before. I have the strength of my parents, grandparents and their parents, who faced their own unimaginable trials. Their stories of resilience are woven with my own, a familial track record of facing demons and emerging champions.

This too will pass, I can say with confidence.

You can say the same. Keep sharing your family stories, especially now. Tell your children about your heartbreaks and your triumphs. Show them that you have done hard things, and they can too. Together, you will make it through this challenge. And one day your children will proudly tell their children about today, about you, and about the strength that is their birthright.

My next two posts (post 1 and post 2) will feature family stories of endurance and persistence. I wrote them years ago, and this week they brought me tears and peace.