The proverb "It takes a village
to raise a child" is attributed as a life motto from various African
sources. This motto is reflected in similar motifs that I have discovered in my
opportunities to study Anthropology within ethnic groups that would be recognized
in the classical sense as hunter-gatherers or tribal societies. The “it takes a village...” maxim effectively
means that an entire community of people is necessary to interact with children
for those children to experience and grow in a safe and healthy environment. It
is poignant to note that it also takes the collective energy and focus of many
people behind us to help craft a well-designed, pleasing, well-published,
packaged, marketed and impactful story in book or often in other forms. Perhaps
we could utilize some creative license and mix our metaphors a bit by
illuminating what I am saying here simply by noting: “It takes a village to
write a book”. But before we get too far in this story-writing-production-village-focus,
we should start with a basic beginning. We need a writing family. Our creativity is best expressed, and best
crafted when it is moulded together with the (often loving) support of others.
Or to put it another way: good story tellers need a good team. This is where we
can learn from those hunter-gatherer societies. They tell stories that help
raise generations of children into adulthood very well.
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| Shane Brigg in PNG with a few friends |
Hunter-Gatherers' story telling is
conducted as a social contract in a mutual context, with friends and family.
God has made us to be highly social beings. We like to be with other people,
especially with those we know well; and we like to do what our friends do. In
our ‘moderno-metroistic’ culture we long for this, we claim to be connected (at
least technologically) but are living lives that are seemingly more and more
isolated and where we long for closer authentic relationships. We may even be
jealous of the seemingly simplistic play-oriented connected reality we might
see in documentaries about hunter-gatherers who experience very social lives.
Anthropologists have marveled at the enormous skill and intelligence shown by
tribal societies in their hunting and gathering. The tools of hunting must be
crafted to perfection; and skill in using those tools effectively must be
developed through years of play with them and the accompanying stories. Hunters
must also learn the habits of hundreds of different species of mammals and
birds that they hunt, which the children do in part through games of imitating
the animals around them, and by storytelling. They learn to identify each
animal by its sounds and tracks as well as by its sight, and by telling their
stories. Everything is noticed, considered, and discussed. Likewise, the gathering of vegetable
foodstuffs requires great knowledge and skill. These abilities include physical
skills, honed by years of practice, as well as the capacity to remember, use,
add to, and modify an enormous store of culturally shared verbal knowledge, all
passed on via storytelling. The point I am making is this: Most work in the
tribal villages (where we get the adage above) is done cooperatively, and even
that which is done individually is done in social settings, with others around.
In all this, stories are told that raise the children, empower adults, and
shape their society.
As a school Chaplain of many years, I
am absolutely honoured to be afforded the recognition and responsibility of
being a champion for our village and an encourager of families and the broader
school “Family”. I like to think of this
family as a space where everyone can gain hope through a sense of belonging,
discovering purpose and even finding meaning as we journey together. In a way I
am recognized as one of our school community’s chief story tellers. Like a
tribal elder, I am called upon to tell a positive narrative. Not just
moralistic, but one that is hope-filled, equipping and somehow wise. I intrinsically, and humbly see my role as
helping to craft the story of all the individuals, families, groups and aspects
of our school life, but I hold this in awe and respect as I recognize that it
is not just me who is the story maker. It takes many people to help create the
narrative that builds for positive futures.
Perhaps what I have been promoting
here is best expressed in a very personal example.
In the writing of what seems to be my
magnum opus (mainly because it seems it is taking a lifetime to frame and
complete) I have engaged several of the sensibilities mentioned above.
Of eminence is an episode that
brought a chapter of my story to completion, and fulfillment in how I had hoped
for some time how it might bless others. I had sat writing a particular piece
for some time. Writing it. Reading it. Reflecting on it. Re writing it. It was
a deep expression of how my main character was coming to terms with her
father’s sickness and their strained relationship. I had come to realise that
her story was a way of me telling my story. But it never was fully crafted
until the week I re wrote it, edited it, formatted it and gave it to my father
as a gift. It was never really finished until all that was completed, but
especially not done until I sat with my Dad and read the chapter to him. It was
the story (like my main character) of how I was wrestling with my own Dad’s
sickness, mortality, and frailty and how I loved him in the midst of all the
relational challenges that had been raised between us as I grew up and now as
an adult reconciling that I loved my Dad, and I knew he loved me. But I needed
to get this message to him. The story did this job. As we sat crying and
hugging together with my wife and my Mum and of course my Dad. I had said what
I needed to say. The story helped me do that. But it also helped my Dad say
what he had wanted to say for a long, long time.
Maybe this chapter will get published
formally one day. But for me the journey to craft this bit of a bigger story
has already made the impact I had hoped for. My life had been raised by loving
parents in challenging circumstances. That is true and was an important part of
my telling through my fictional characters. Our family -or little village- had
successfully helped to raise this child. But the child in some ways could not
be the man he is today without the telling of this story, and this meant a
listening audience of critics who just happened to be the most important people
in my life, who helped not just make the story, but helped bring it direction,
clarity, meaning and encouragement to write more.
I guess if I am going to write more,
I need to develop the team around me further. Maybe that team starts like the
example above (loving family who listen, journey together, encourage,
positively critique, nurture, empower and support). Of course, that team needs
to be developed beyond friends and family with specialists (editors,
publicists, etc) and supporters, but that is a story for another time.
