When
I was a journalist eons ago, a wave of excitement came whenever I was
assigned to cover a human-interest story. A human-interest story is a feature
story where the primary focus is on the person and has the objective to move,
with his/her story. The draw of the human-interest story hence, lies in its
ability to capture the human experience.
The
privilege to hear personal stories from such up close and personal angles never
fails to produce that sense of thrill which brings great relish each time. No
matter who the newsmaker is, be it a prominent personality used to making
media rounds or the man-in-the-street, it is a privilege bestowed upon me --
one which I learnt never to take for granted. For it is a licence you have been
given, in that brief encounter of fifteen minutes or a few hours, to weave in
and out of someone else's life and recount experiences lived.
That
sense of thrill would continue post-interview, brewing as I settled into the backseat of the
taxi which I would slip into, long after the newsmaker left, as I made my way
back to the newsroom to log in the story. As I peered out the window, the outside
views passed nonchalantly as I took time to let the final brew simmer. The aroma would get intoxicating when the mind successfully came up with the opening
paragraph to capture the essence of the interview -- an opening which I hoped frame the story well enough to do justice to the newsmaker's story and draw readers into the rest
of my writing. This opening paragraph can take the form of a quote or an
anecdote shared by the news maker or an observation made during the
interview.
Fast
forward to the present and the journalist in me takes over from time to time.
This happens usually after being up close and personal alongside a riveting
experience or after a chat with someone whose being touches my core. I find
myself immersed in the story and brewing the thickly-layered drink once
more.
It
takes time to get to a story. But the ingredients to it are always simple and
straightforward -- one just needs to ask questions and show a genuine
willingness to listen.
Where
I presently work, stories abound as students lead lives one least imagines in
sophisticated Singapore. Stories which are melodramatic enough to be made into
long-running drama serials, and which sometimes leaves you gasping for breath
to catch up. Yet these stories often go untold.
A
fellow colleague who teaches drama hopes to help students distill their life
experiences of suffering and trauma into stories that inspire. In the
mirror-clad room where one learns what vulnerability means, she gently
encourages her students, who are used to their life stories not being of
interest, to write scripts about their personal struggles.
A student asks, "What if I cry while writing?"
The teacher assures, "Then cry. And continue writing because that's where
the most powerful stories come from, and it may change someone's life."
The student smiles.
Sometimes
a story comes when you least expect it. During my trip last December to Nara
Park, Japan, I visited the century-old park -- home to more than a
thousand freely-roaming deer, temples and other beautiful historical sites --
and met a volunteer guide, Kuzuwa-san. Kuzuwa-san volunteers with the YMCA and
makes it a point to spend each weekend bringing tourists around the park,
providing free English translation service. I found him at a table he was
manning at the corner of the Nara tourism centre.
Throughout the walk, Kuzuwa-san regaled with stories of old and modern Japan,
interspersed with economic, historical, geographical and cultural explanations
which came about as a result of him poring over tons of research he does during
weekends when he isn't bringing tourists around and translating.
My interest shifted away from the deer. What drives Kuzuwa-san, week after week, to
devote precious weekend time to bringing tourists around the park and providing
free translation services? Even when there are tourists who abuse the service
and have him bring them around as a photographer rather than a
translator?
His reasons for doing it seems simple and almost stereotypical at the outset.
Yes, he is proud of his hometown and wants to share his country's beauty with
the rest of the world? And yes, it is a good chance for him to practise his
English-speaking skills too.
And
the story came.
Kuzuwa-san's
full-time job had previously taken him to different parts of the world and many times, he
has received kindness. He sees his current outreach to people across different
nationalities his way of paying it forward, a way to thank the many nameless
but no doubt significant people who lent a hand to him in those foreign lands.
And what a beautiful story that was.
This
Chinese New Year, I indulged in a weekend of immersive storytelling, entering
theatres to tick off the list of movies I have been wanting to watch but never
got down to. One particular movie stood out. The film adaptation of Louisa May
Alcott's classic, Little Women, features the four March
sisters set in a time of Civil War where they had to grow up fast even though
they were young. Director Greta Gerwig's tagline for the movie is "Own
your story". How apt that was for if Louisa May Alcott didn't base her
writing loosely on her life, there would not be this evergreen classic which touches on themes relevant even to our modern day lives.
Never
underestimate the power of our own stories.
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