I feel like a midwife

That surreal moment you realise you had a minuscule part in helping someone deliver their story

This past week I stumbled on a Facebook profile that totally balled me over. I had to look again and again. Almost like a stalker, I scrolled through his photos and stories to confirm if he was who I thought he was. Then I found this Channel NewsAsia video.

A super gift from Father
Every now and again, a slice of your past revisits you. It happened this past week – A super gift and surprise from Father to encourage my heart.

From around 2012 to 2014 my team and I facilitated digital storytelling workshops at the Changi Prison. The workshop empowers inmates to break free from addiction by giving voice to their stories.

Bruce was one of my participants. Long before that polished 2021 CNA video, there was the raw story he shared with me during our prison workshop—a story we worked on together. He didn’t mention the workshop in the video, of course, but he did speak about renouncing his past. That very story was a core part of the renunciation ceremony held inside the prison.

Commas and full stops, pauses and silence
I remember listening to the audio recording of his story. His story was beautifully written, but in the recording, he raced through the words without a single pause. Instinct told me the weight of what he was saying was still too raw to fully articulate.

I asked him to sit with me, sharing a pair of earphones between us. Without a word, I began editing his story, introducing pauses into the audio. Pauses are vital in storytelling; they give the speaker space to feel the weight of their words, and the listener time to absorb them. When the edit was finished and we listened to the new version together, he broke down and cried.

Bruce said he could not break from his addiction. He went in and out of prison. The turning point came when his wife brought their four-year-old daughter to see him on her birthday. She had on a pretty dress. She was excited. Then she reached out her hand to him and asked him to carry her. 

He said no. How could he carry her? The glass window in the visiting room separated them. She cried so hard and would not stop. It broke his heart. That moment, he swore he was never going to return to prison again. 

A brother and a new friend
I don’t remember every inmates but I remember Bruce. I sheepishly requested to friend him on Facebook.

Me: You may not remember me but I remember you and I’m delighted to stumble on your profile and to see the good you’ve made of your life. So glad to see you are with your little girl (no more little). Praise God for his good work in your life.

Bruce: Where and when did we meet?

Me: I was there when you first articulated your story at Changi. I was the digital story coach who facilitated the workshop for the renunciation. You made a video. Unless I’ve made a mistake?

Bruce: Ahhhh, yes I did attend that workshop.
We were allowed to bring back a cd right? A copy of our story I mean.

Me: Yes, but not me. I was not allowed to take back anything. It’s to protect the identities of the storytellers. I brought back memories.

Bruce: Memories that you can now share with others.

Me: I rarely get to hear the outcome of the workshops I run. It’s usually a one-off thing and then silence. So I’m encouraged to know yours.

Bruce’s story didn’t start well but he’s continuing it well. And I had the privilege to help him to articulate his story. Today, he is a changed man, a child of God, and a motivational speaker telling young people not to mess their lives. What a blast of a visit from the past.

🌷Shout-outs
Kudos goes to my team who helped with workshops and a special shout-out to the prison officer who had the vision to make it happen. He attended my workshop and saw immediately how digital storytelling can help inmates change the trajectory of their stories. He worked very hard to make the workshop happen. What we saw was nothing short of miracles, the hand of God to get it running. 

I have not run workshops for some time now, in deference to the season of caregiving that I am in. I still believe in the power of digital storytelling. In the age of AI, people write prompts to create a video. AI stories lack soul. Storytelling when done right has a way to act as a catalyst to change the trajectory of a person’s life. One has to process, to struggle through the telling of a story for it to do its deep work in us.

I would be a storytelling midwife again and again if ever I had the chance.