Finding resonance, voices and choices through stories.
Oh hi there! Guess you found your way to this piece of writing. Well now that you’re here, let’s try to rewind a little bit. What is your earliest memory of reading a book? Mine is of a small bedroom, with a small human (me), with a book borrowed (read as: taken) from her elder sister, trying to pick between looking at the pictures and following the text while Ma kept calling me to have lunch (or maybe breakfast…food basically). And as I reluctantly closed the book (no I did not earmark the page, I’ve never liked that) and went to eat, there started my journey with books. There started the journey of late nights and reading under torchlights (Lumos >> Batteries?). And there started the journey of finding solace in books, often when I didn’t find it around me or within me.
Books, and by extension stories, have always been an important part of my life. Now that I think back, stories were always around me – hanging in the air and being exchanged in between dull chores.
Ankita
Books, and by extension stories, have always been an important part of my life. Now that I think back, stories were always around me – hanging in the air and being exchanged in between dull chores. Sometimes these stories were told by my grandmother on a warm afternoon as I was being lulled to sleep. Slowly the stories found their way into books – borrowed from my sister, my Mimi, my cousin and the school library, bought from bookstores and book fairs (read as: বই মেলা), received as birthday presents, bought on a train ride or before a flight and eventually read as e-copies on devices.
Eventually, from the sadness and anger came hope. Hope because these stories resisted erasure. Hope because they found representation. Hope because through them, people found a voice for their feelings and experiences.
Ankita
Whatever the form of the book, the comfort I have found in them has always remained. Comfort has looked like silent evenings spent reading. It has looked like sneaking into a bookstore before a movie or sending long texts to friends crying about the book I just read. There have also been some books that have made me uncomfortable. Uncomfortable because they raised questions I was not ready to answer. They made me uncomfortable because they brought to light experiences that were often invisible and unspoken. Uncomfortable because the emotions were so real that if you reached out you could touch them. So real, that they were almost your own, living and breathing with you. As I continued to read more of these stories, the feelings of discomfort grew into understanding. This understanding then morphed into sadness and anger as I learnt that the world would rather hush these stories into a hollow silence rather than listening to them. That the world would prefer to shove these stories into a box, rather than letting them take up space. Eventually, from the sadness and anger came hope. Hope because these stories resisted erasure. Hope because they found representation. Hope because through them, people found a voice for their feelings and experiences.
Now please bear with me as I quote a dialogue from a movie (if you know, you know).
“Books are like good friends of ours. They don’t have any complaints or demands.
They simply stand with you”
This statement captures the essence of my relationship with books. Books have and continue to hold my hand as I walk, stumble, fall, cry, smile, scream and attempt to navigate through life. I remember a conversation I had with a very close friend (looking at you buddy). We were talking about music and she was telling me how through songs she has found words to her experiences. Through the lyrics she found words to her feelings and thoughts. I identified with what she told me that day because I have built connections with the characters of my books and they have lived through me. My books have told me that I can be curious and ambitious. They told me I can start debates when I don’t agree and that I can be angry. They told me I could feel when people around me asked me to hide the feelings. They told me not all silences have to be filled in. They have taught me to sit and listen, especially to stories and voices that slip between the cracks or fade away because no one else is lending an ear.
Over the last 2 years I have been working as a mental health professional. Being associated with a school meant that my work was primarily with children, their families and the communities they come from. Additionally, I also worked with other stakeholders in the school. Not surprisingly, like every other part of my life stories also found their way into my work. However, these stories were not always found as words on a page. Sometimes they took on the form of an account of what a child had done or what they were not doing in school, at home or in the community. Even if we don’t realise, stories hold power and a wise person once said, “With great power comes great responsibility” (I got you, Spiderman fans). Sometimes these stories told by the adults circulated so frequently that the child’s own story got obscured or started to take on strains from this ‘popular’ story.
However, when I looked close, I found whispers of the story that was beginning to fade out. I found them in conversations with children. These were tales about favourite character(s) in cartoons, movies or books (and the joy of discovering a character we both liked!). We spoke about the qualities of these characters that we resonated with. Sometimes, a choice made by the character stood out. It held significance because it represented a value that the child held close to or maybe because the child lived their choice through the character. These characters represented their hope – hope for what was possible and what they could achieve. Much like the characters in my books, these characters told the children that they could be more than the labels the world around them was focusing on.
During the previous year, I have had experiences which have highlighted the prospect of using books and stories in therapy. The first of these was attending the ‘Book by Book’ workshop facilitated by the Mental Health team of Ummeed Child Development Center. In the workshop we saw how books and stories “make magic more concrete” — as aptly summarised by a participant. We also delved into picture books and the worlds they open up for anyone who seeks them. Most importantly, we revisited the possibilities that stories hold in therapeutic spaces and we unwrapped what resilience can look like for young people. In addition to the workshop, the ABT course I was a part of allowed me to explore using the modality of stories and storytelling while working in groups with children. Incidentally, I alone did not just work with books. I also heard accounts from colleagues and friends about how they used books in therapy and how books helped them spot openings for conversations and new paths to explore.
While my work has allowed me more scope of using books with children and young people, I have also realised that it is possible to use books, and by extension stories, in therapy with adults – even pictures books that are supposed to be for children. I would like to illustrate this by recounting my experiences from the ABT course. During the course there were multiple experiential sessions of storytelling and then using stories to either build up different accounts or alternate endings for the characters or bringing the tales to life in a different format, like in a skit. All of this happened in our group of adults and each of us connected to the use of stories or to the characters in them.
I can recount something similar from the two days of ‘Book by Book’ workshop. As we explored the possibilities of books present in therapeutic work with children, we as a group of adults also experienced the same possibilities during the training. Carrying forth this dialogue, I recollect conversations with colleagues and friends about connections they have drawn from books and resonance they have seen in pages and imaginary characters. Besides my personal experience with books and how they can accentuate mental health conversations, research has also been dedicated to understanding how books can be used in therapy. Research has indicated that using books in therapy (Bibliotherapy) with children and adults, opens up new lines of therapeutic conversation and can promote healing and well-being for clients.
Books provide us with language we did not know we had. The stories they hold, provide us with reassurance and connection(s). The beauty of books is that even when you turn over the last page, you don’t necessarily have to reach the end. Stories can and do continue …
Ankita
I recently started reading a new book (…not a surprise really) and something the author mentioned stood out for me and I quote, “We are all the heroes of our own stories.”. Much like the stories we encounter, we go through transitions in our own stories – sometimes these transitions are an anticipated bend in the road and other times a roller coaster drop! However, as easy as it is to notice the resistance our favourite characters put up in the face of changes and challenges, it is that much harder to notice the same for ourselves. And that is exactly where stories come to build a bridge. Books provide us with language we did not know we had. The stories they hold, provide us with reassurance and connection(s). The beauty of books is that even when you turn over the last page, you don’t necessarily have to reach the end. Stories can and do continue – as we have also seen in the article beautifully penned by my friend and fellow blogger Aaleya. They continue in the imagination of the readers, they continue in the tales told by people, and they continue as they exchange hands from reader to reader. So the next time someone asks you why you want to read “so many” books (is there such a thing??), just turn over to the next page – lose yourself and be found in the story.
~Fin~
– Ankita
Hi (awkward hand wave), this is Ankita and I am a member of the Tangent MHI team. You can choose to think of me as a (small) human form of stories, songs, feelings, dark humour, and some well timed jokes (tips proverbial hat). This is a very personal article about my journey with books. So consider this an invitation to walk these streets with me? (cue song reference). Thank you!
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