Unashamed of Hope...

continued from page artist, painter, and muralist, Ritzie had not yet committed his own story to words. The Untold Stories project and its training workshops gave him the opportunity to craft his story creatively, during a summer when many of his childhood haunts were being destroyed for new construction.

“It became a cathartic process,” Ritzie remembers. “I went into a search of going back to my childhood, childhood trauma. And it was very difficult because I thought, I’m 64 years old. I felt that I had dealt with it all. And I had. But there were certain things that needed truth to be told to it, because there were two sides to a story. And I wanted to know the truth.”

As the storytellers worked together in workshops, many of their stories became more vulnerable and personal. For Ritzie, as for many of the storytellers, facing the truth of their stories activated emotions that they had buried for years. But allowing their buried stories to be seen, heard, and validated also proved liberating. “To tell you the truth, that last summer, I did nothing but cry,” Ritzie says, comparing the process to peeling the layers off an onion or a scab off a wound. “It was like that. And when I finally got to the root of the truth, I was okay.”

After completing their training, the storytellers performed in each of their four communities. For Ritzie, the Morristown venue held particular symbolic importance: the event took place at Grow It Green Urban Farm, across from his former junior high school.

About sixty people attended the Morristown performance. In the talkback after the event, one audience member addressed Ritzie specifically. Ritzie had told a story about a painful and highly unusual childhood experience; the man in the audience had lived through the exact same thing.

“That’s when it came full circle for me,” Ritzie says. “After everything was done on the last performance, I knew I had done what I needed to do. And the healing started.”

It’s an experience that happened more than once. “Every single audience reflected back to us that they too felt seen and heard, because the storyteller stories were often their stories,” says Krapf. Sharing stories not only healed the storytellers, but helped their audiences heal, too.

Ritzie is still performing with the Untold Stories of a Storied People project, but his stories will most likely turn aside from childhood trauma. “I did it,” he says, “I dug up those bones. I buried them so many times.

And now it’s time for me to continue to do what I need to do as an artist, as somebody that’s going to live a healthy life for years to come.”

After the success of Phase One, the project itself will change and expand, too. If funding is secured, a hoped-for Phase Two will grow Untold Stories of a Storied People to include a monthly storytelling lab in Madison and the ability to bring aboard more storytellers with untold stories from immigrants, veterans, especially female veterans, essential workers during COVID, and all others who feel unseen and unheard.

Krapf hopes that the empathy created by storytelling can offer better solutions. “Our humanity needs to be elevated,” she says. “We need to respond to these times in a different way than the way that we’re responding.”

That’s one answer to our original question: what are stories for?

The Untold Stories project / program shows that stories can be for healing, catharsis, connection, and liberation.

Or, as Micah Bournes writes in the poem “Humming Fools” linked on Storytelling Arts’ website, stories can be for creating hope–hope that by witnessing each other’s stories, we can all become more human.

For more information about Untold Stories of a Storied People, visit www.