“I found a confidence I didn’t know I could have. I tried things I never thought I could do.”
We completed over 6 months of our free weekly theatre group for older adults thanks to funding from The National Lotteries Community Fund.
With no lines to learn, no auditions, no fuss — just fun, laughter, and a friendly bunch who loved a good yarn. They played with poetry, tried their hand at a bit of acting for stage or radio, and dreamt up their own monologues.
The group, led by Tom, then stitched their stories together into a collection of writing, titled A Manifesto for being Brave. You can read this here
“We were made to feel so welcome. My children were so happy”
We hosted 10 creative workshops for Families who speak English as a Second Language who have been driven to Warrington by circumstance
At our Story Makers group supported families who had arrived in Warrington through diverse circumstances by offering accessible, arts-based activities that encouraged expression, community connection and celebrated our cultures, with support for ESOL learners.
Families were welcomed to come together to share stories, play and learn English.
“He keeps asking is it time to go to group again. I haven’t seen him so at relaxed out of our house”
Story Makers Digital
We know that circumstances change and often families can be moved about the UK at very short notice. This On Demand activity is here to encourage family and community connections across the UK. You can access these activities here
Here we are on the last day of 100 days of our quest to seek joy. Over the last 100 days we have had over 10,000 interactions with audiences through social media. But what about us? How did we feel seeing those prompts coming in every day?
You see we played along too. We prepared these 100 days ahead over summer. Flick colour coded 100 lines in a spreadsheet. Tom scheduled the posts. A handful were spur of the moment when the scheduling failed. But while we want to encourage others to find joy, we need to seek it too.
When we started we could sense that society was feeling a pressure, and we knew that people were feeling the stress. We never saw these 100 days as a way to fix that, but we did think that it might bring a small moment of reflection, a small moment of happiness in what can sometimes feel like a marathon. And now we are at the end. And discontentment and worry is as vivid as that crunchy ice underfoot that this viscous cold snap is preserving. It did lift us, even for a small moment and when we logged in and saw the discussion that the Joy Seeking had provoked between others, people of different ages and sometimes living on different continents, it filled us up even more.
“Art can be a refuge.”
Our home is not untouched by the stresses of the wider world, we don’t live in a vacuum. Our work has us reaching out and lending an ear and finding ways for you to feel that your stories matter. That you matter. However, we see the burn out, the underfunding, the staff shortages, the stretched services and the low morale. We see that both within and without our sector. From our friends in Education and the NHS to our friends who look to bring a smile to your family’s faces as they spend these late winter nights wandering under winter lanterns, invoking wonder in the people they entertain. We know for many people Art can be a refuge.
So come January 10th we will be launching our Get Together Tuesdays at The Old School. Each Tuesday there will be a different group on offer. From social singing with Choir-Oke to an evening of play with Game On. We will still be hosting our Story Circle and we will run a creative writing group, Unscrumpled, for you to catch a story and put it on the page. We’re keeping these classes low cost at £5 a session and all these groups will run 7pm -8.30pm. We provide these sessions in the spirit of these last 100 days. Not because we think it will fix everything, but for 90 minutes every Tuesday, you can come and find refuge as the storm rages outside.
Get Together Tuesdays
Game On!
1st Tuesday of the Month
7th Feb, 7th March, 4th April
Roll the dice, find the joy, play the game! An up on your feet social Games night for adults. Roll the dice, find the joy, play the game! An up on your feet social Games night for adults. Somewhere between Parlour Games at your Aunty Pat’s and an improvisation class.
Choir-Oke
2nd Tuesday of the Month
10th Jan, 14th Feb, 14th March
This social singing group has everyone belting out the bangers all together into a hairbrush. We have different rounds to get you laughing and the chance to win some fabulous prizes such as ornamental plates or a pack or Parma Violets.
Story Circle
3rd Tuesday of the Month
17th Jan, 21st Feb, 21st March
Open Mic for Storytelling. Our relaxed Story Circle invites you to either share a short tale or sit back and listen. From poetry to prose, songs to stories about holidays with your Nan, we welcome all kinds of tellers and their tales to add their voice to the evening.
Unscrumpled
4th Tuesday of the Month
24th Jan, 28th Feb, 28th March
A social creative writing group. This practical class will help you to create a database of ideas and develop your tool kit as a writer. Relaxed, social and open to everyone interested in creative writing
Your voice reminds me
That I do not know all things.
Thank you for that gift.
The biggest gift we can give someone is recognition. We can thank them for their hard work, commend them for their talents, celebrate their victories. We can tell them that we can see their suffering, their challenges and their obstacles. Recognition can be eye contact, a hand on the arm, a laugh. It can be a pay rise, a gold medal or a qualification.
When I think of the stories I have heard or the books I have read, the tales that have truly resonated with me are the ones where I see something of myself. Mostly this recognition is there through a shared inner conflict but sometimes it is about circumstances. Some stories get under my skin and I carry them endlessly for days, weeks, months or even years. Other stories pass though my ears to my voice and I move onwards leaving that story behind.
When it comes to the books, I want to read a similar type. They tell tales of some far off, often imagined land or time, where characters contend with something other worldly. Everything about these books have been considered, scrutinised, maximised to telling the best story. These stories are everywhere, packaged for all ages and stages.
When I think of the stories that stay with me, they often came at a moment that I had no idea I was going to hear them. These stories are not ones I would pick up off a book shelf or are stories where I recognise myself. They are often tales of injustice. They catch at my heart, holding it still and squeezing it tight at the unfairness of a situation. These stories are told in ways that are unedited. The way they are told is not considered in the same way that the books above have been. They are told, because the person telling them wants recognition. Even though, I do not see myself in these stories, I see the person talking.
In the whispered worries of participants in community settings, underneath the ‘what if I am not good enough’, there is a thought that has come loose. Its untethered to what has gone before. Its raw an it speaks amongst the scrunched up paper in the bin. It says ‘No one wants to hear my story.’
I love books and could spend hour after hour reading. However I often wonder are we representing everyone or are we only representing some? If you feel like you don’t belong in a book, you probably think you don’t belong in a story. If you feel like you don’t have the circumstances to write a book, you probably feel like you don’t have anything interesting to say.
‘I have a notebook stuffed with things I want to write and one day I might’
Not only does the story disappear from you lips but it disappears from the ears of the listener. Its gone to some far off corner of lost property and we all loose an opportunity to share an experience or a connection. Reflecting on the last few years, we have lost so much. So many chance encounters and moments shared with others. So many voices that have been behind closed doors.
So let’s open more doors. Let’s gather together. Let’s share our stories. Let’s Listen to each other and in doing so let’s raise each other higher.
The recent passing of Thicht Naht Hanh has been felt across the world by so many, including those who knew him as ‘Teacher’. Those who leave such a legacy also open a door to many with their passing. I have to admit to only recently looking more into his teachings and this week at Story Stitchers we have begun that journey by listening. Listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading and sharing.
We believe that true, unconditional and active listening are in many ways as vital to our very survival and happiness as the air we breathe.
When you make the effort to listen and hear the other side of the story, your understanding increases and your hurt diminishes. – Thicht Naht Hanh
First impressions
As a child I was always taught the value of a smile, a firm handshake, looking people in the eye etc.
Recent years have challenged the importance, relevance and appropriateness of some of these ‘good first impression’ staples. The pandemic has made the handshake an endangered species and masks have converted the smile into sparkly eyes and waves.
The biggest thing I have taken from these shifts is that while still valuable, maybe first impressions shouldn’t carry the weight they sometimes do. Someone might be late because they are the most generous person in the room, not because they are unreliable or don’t care. Someone might have scruffy shoes because they spend their time thinking how to be better at their job, or how to be a better person, rather than worrying about their shoes. Maybe eye contact is a battle that this person just can’t take on, but they are actually very comfortable in themselves and therefore a huge asset to any team or room. If we take time to listen to them and the information they give us, then we have already moved past so many obstacles.
Listening to your own curiosity
Sometimes the person we find the hardest to listen to is ourselves, for example: the impact or effect of our presence, or when our presence isn’t there. The world can be a busy place where we may feel judged or under constant pressure to be useful. We need to be on time, we need to provide, we need to be organised, motivated and driven. We need to help out the team, be there for our partner and family, keep in touch with friends, do our bit for our community, country or planet. Then we hopefully reach somewhere near the end of our task list, we eat and stop, just in time to go to bed before it all carries on tomorrow. There are many who talk about the need to stop, switch off, take time and escape. With our work we find that we also need the space to listen and be listened to. This can be going along to a class or workshop and having some new people in your life asking you about you and then you listen to others and are genuinely curious to know more about them. Or maybe it’s at work with colleagues who are sharing an idea or information that takes you by surprise or reminds you there is plenty you don’t know about them. Listening is often talked about in situations of major conflict and violence or in politics. But there are so many of us who just don’t get to be around others in a space where everyone listens to each other. A chance to express ourselves, to share in similar or very different views. The chance to go back into the rest of our lives and take in more from it. To listen. To actively listen. It may begin with those closest to us and then we find we are curious about other fascinating and wonderful people that we come into contact with during our lives. As we learn more about them, we learn more about ourselves.
And the great thing about listening is that we can do it straight away, right now. It is also a tool that never runs out and has infinite uses and benefits.
We’re playing Pooh sticks. We are on a bridge, each armed with a stick of one size or another. All waiting in anticipation to let go. All wishing that our sticks won’t get caught in the reeds on the river bank on the way through. All hoping that we have picked a good stick. All holding our breath to see who’s stick will appear first on the other side of the bridge. Its a quiet nervousness mixed with bubbles of excitement.
The bridge we are stood on remains a constant. A solid structure from one side to the next. It is our place to play. It is over a hundred years old, this stone bridge. So many feet have passed over it. Bricks laid by hands that history forgot. Time marching onwards and the river flows below. Endless water washing down the mountain streams to a rapid river, under our bridge and out to sea.
My story of playing Pooh sticks with my children is linked to playing Pooh sticks with my cousins in the stream near my Grandpa’s house under the watchful eye of our mother’s who played Pooh sticks with their own cousins.
My story of playing Pooh sticks on this bridge is linked to all the feet who came before me, all the water that has flowed under it, the two opposing banks and the division that was healed through the foundations of the bridge. My story can only happen because of all those other stories that have come before. My story can be told in many ways with many connections and conflicts and characters.
The most magical thing about my story is that it has no doubt triggered other stories in you. Your childhood games, bridges you have crossed, gone and much loved grandparents. Tales of meandering rivers, hiding amongst the bull rushes and splashing in streams in moonlit dips.
In telling one story, we trigger more. In triggering more stories, we create a space for other stories to exist. We let the words of others fill our heads with images. We sit inside each others lives and worlds and loves and hates. We build bridges were there were none and discover hidden paths to memories and places that maybe we have forgotten. In telling one story, we tell many. We listen to a story, we connect. We remind each other to look up, to play, to explore, to take risks. We see ourselves in each other and we marvel with joy in sharing. We tell our stories together.
Stories can build bridges
Between people, places and ideas.
They are a circle.
They never really end,
But seed new beginnings and possibilities.
They help us make sense of chaos,
Overcome conflict,
Change the way we breath.
For who has not gasped
Or held their breath
Or sighed, or sobbed or giggled
At the wonder of it all.
Story Stitchers 