Just listen
ABC journalist Felicity Ogilvie shares her impressions of Storyology After Dark.
If I was to ask you what you think the key attribute of a good storyteller is, what would you say? My answer changed recently, following my experience listening to the stories at the “live magazine” event Storyology After Dark, as part of the Walkleys’ Storyology conference in Brisbane. What is a live magazine you ask? Well I don’t think anyone really knew, but about 300 people gathered in the dark at the Powerhouse theatre on a warm winter’s night to find out.
I figured it would be something like news time in primary school. Only this time I wasn’t hearing about puppies, cubbies and family holidays. I was listening to tales about drug addicts in Afghanistan, a Brisbane man who killed gay men, and Edelweiss being sung in Papua New Guinea. I was seeing the beauty and strength of Maori women, listening as strong Aussie women spoke about their experiences of domestic violence, and the ins and outs of live TV. I was almost ducking as backyard cricket was played under buckets, not lights. I gained an understanding about race in the US that a year of living there never taught me. Then Trent Dalton brought his story on stage. It started at a urinal and ended with a man playing a flute. It is one of those stories that makes you think: This can’t be real. But then again, it was so wild it almost had to be real.
My friend and I sat in the dark debriefing after each story during the applause, reacting to whether we liked it or not and why. As journalists, we tend to know what makes a gripping story. But do we really know what makes a good storyteller?
Is it tight story structure? Clear writing? An eye for images that capture emotion or action? A quick wit and mind? The ability to stay calm under pressure and deliver to tight deadlines? Being an entertainer? A smooth broadcast delivery? Insightful questions? Lack of bias? Did anyone think the most important thing I can do as a storyteller is start by listening, then keep listening?
Being forced to sit in the dark and listen without the ability to question any of the stories made me reflect on how vital, as a journalist, it is to listen. Because if I’m not listening there’s a danger I’m going to miss the story.
I heard listening in all the stories that were told that night. A photojournalist listening to the pain of an addict in Afghanistan and hearing the comfort and gentleness that another usual enemy provided — and capturing that in a photo. A journalist listening to her own past and reflecting on it as she was listening to the story of a powerful man in the US who is living his life trying to hide his power. And Trent Dalton listening as the Brisbane man he was telling us a story about crept past in the flesh, and leapt with a flourish, and spoke back with his flute music. It was all a bit incredible.
But I would have missed so much if I wasn’t listening. For me the most offensive part of fake news is the fact no one is really listening. It’s a quagmire of ignorance where people are demanding to be heard but are refusing to respectfully listen to others. Has it been forgotten that you don’t have to agree with someone to listen to them? If we want to avoid a society that is dominated by fake news, opinions and intolerance,we need to cultivate something that is being abandoned in both society and some parts of the media: listening.
Felicity Ogilvie is an ABC Radio Current Affairs journalist based in Hobart, Tasmania.
