Lecture 5: Personal Narrative

When Kip introduced today's lecture topic I had a mini panic attack. I really hate public speaking. And not just the standing behind a podium giving a presentation kind--even just telling stories to my friends makes me a little anxious. I get worried they won't find whatever I'm saying interesting/funny/important/etc, etc, and silence is usually my go to preference. The thought of presenting a narrative is daunting because I'm not sure there's anything in my life right now that I could confidently assert as totally unique or worthy for the world to know. I'll have to do some "soul searching" before our next assignment, that's for sure.

Of course, to a frequent mute like myself, listening to stories and hearing other people's experiences is fascinating. I think being able to captivate an audience and make something seemingly mundane into something exciting and intriguing is definitely an art form. For example, Tony Mendoza's video about his father's daily lunch routine. Why should we care that his father eats chicken strips with 2 containers of honey sauce, fries, 18 mini onion rings, and a coke? And why am I able to recite those items from memory? Because of the way Mendoza told the narrative. Going through a drive through to get junk food is not a remarkable feat. But it was the quirks and the kinks left in the editing that made the story funny. His father switching in and out of different languages and complaining to the cashier that the price keeps changing makes the mundane activity suddenly entertaining and worth being shared.

Tony Mendoza, My Father's Lunch, 1999

I also enjoyed "6 to 8 Black Men" by David Sedaris. Usually when I think of traveling to other countries I imagine the ethnic food, the tourist attractions and the landscapes, not gun laws or how the people celebrate Christmas. But questions like that are far more revealing of a culture than what's served on a dish for dinner (despite my love for food and inclination to believe otherwise). Narratives have the power to share a person's private, personal experience with a very public and universal world. Yet truly great narratives are able to retain authenticity and originality by being what Kip calls "non-transferable".