by Sarah Malone
Copyright © 2006 Sarah Malone. All rights reserved.
CEDAR CREST, N.M., USA -- On Sept. 11, 2001, I was working in an elementary school in a rural New Mexico community at the time of the attacks on New York’s World Trade Center. I happened to enter the school library at a time when a group of third- or fourth-grade students were sitting mesmerized on the library floor watching a television broadcast of the disaster. The children had been left momentarily unsupervised -- perhaps their teacher had slipped out for a bathroom break, taking advantage of their fixation on the television screen to obtain a moment’s reprieve. In any event, my entrance coincided with the exact moment in which the first of the two World Trade Towers collapsed. I watched, horrified, as the floors of the building pan caked down upon each other, the stack diminishing to a pile of rubble amidst the smoke, flames and debris. As the tower fell, however, I was horrified by another sight -- that of the school children raising their fists in the air and cheering with delight. In that moment, it became clear to me the children had no real concept of what they were watching unfold before them on the television screen. As far as they were concerned, it was merely another realistic television program or video game. The collapsing towers simply represented a direct hit, a “score” in that game. I took a deep breath and began to tell them the story of what they were witnessing. I made up the stories, of the men and women, and possibly children, who were dying before our eyes, hidden within the burning rubble on the screen.
Following that experience and the deluge of bellicose speech that befell our nation in its aftermath, I turned to story as a way to make sense of what these experiences meant to me and to provide young people with alternatives to violence as a means of problem solving. I researched and told stories of nonviolent conflict resolution. I raised funds through such storytelling to record a compact disc of peace tales for American children. I felt drawn to donate the proceeds from the sales of the CD, “Holding Up the Sky: Peace Tales for Kids,” to peace causes: children affected by armed conflict overseas and Peace Talks Radio, a local radio show devoted to peacemaking and nonviolent conflict resolution. I became known as the “peace” storyteller. People yearned to hear another voice, another version, and another perspective. Magically, the CD sold well and the donations grew. The fledgling
Peace Talks Radio, in part from financial support generated by Peace Tales, developed into a program syndicated across many cities in the United States.
Many times I have wondered about the stories and their impact, even though many parents have reported how much their children love the tales. Then, in 2005, Peace Talks aired a program on the
Creativity for Peace Camp. Inspired in part by the quote from Quaker pacifist Gene Knudson-Hoffman, “An enemy is someone whose story you haven’t heard,” this yearly camp brings together adolescent girls from Israel and Palestine to share personal stories, break down barriers and develop friendship and understanding. While the camp takes place in the United States, its work continues in Palestine and in Israel where the girls, following their time here, continue to meet and forge further collaboration and understanding.
When I heard the personal stories shared by Palestinian and Israeli girls on the Peace Talks program I felt deeply moved by the ways in which stories heal. From teaching the children who cheered at the sight of a burning tower’s fall, to storytelling for peace while fund raising to record a peace tales CD, to a radio program that broadcasts examples of nonviolent conflict resolution, including the story about girls from a conflict ridden part of our world joining hands in the New Mexico desert, the ripples of story expand ever outward in all directions across the globe, touching lives in many ways, both large and small.
Although each of our individual voices may be only as light as a snowflake, our collective voices may one day bring peace to the world. I am reminded of one of my favorite stories from the Peace Tales CD, “A Tale for All Seasons” by the German philosopher Kurt Kauter in his New Fables tale, "Thus Spake the Marabou." It was republished in Joseph Jaworski’s book,
Synchronicity: The Inner Path of Leadership
(Barrett-Koehler Publishers, Inc., 1996):
“Tell me, what does a snowflake weigh?” said the song thrush to the white dove.
“Next to nothing,” was the reply.
“In that case, I have a wondrous story to tell you,” said the song thrush. “I was sitting on the branch of a fir tree one day, quite close to the trunk, when it began to snow. It didn’t fall violently like in a wild storm, no… but rather as in a dream, quietly, weightlessly. Since I had nothing better to do, I counted the snowflakes as they came to rest on the twigs and needles of my branch. There were exactly 3,741,952 of them. When the three million, seven hundred and forty one thousand, nine hundred and fifty third flake fall – as you say, a mere nothing – the branch broke.”
And so saying, she flew off.
The white dove, a specialist in such questions since way back when Noah built his ark, reflected briefly, and then said to herself, “Perhaps it would only take a single extra person’s voice for there to be peace on earth."
Sarah Malone began storytelling as a parent volunteer many years ago, believing that children benefit not only from listening to stories but also from their relationship with the storyteller. Her devotion to peacemaking resulted in the Peace Tales Project. “Here is a way,” she has written, “that I can contribute to peaceful solutions in the world by sharing peace stories with children and adults and donating the proceeds to charities that also wage peace."
Click here to visit her Peace Tales website.
tags: sarah malone cedar crest new mexico usa peace story narrative school 911 what does a snowflake weigh violence peace talks israeli palestinian radio