Tweens & Teens: Listen or Tolerate?

Just the other day, I had a captive audience. But, this audience kept talking back to me as I was telling stories. They had something to say about nearly everything as I spoke. They laughed, too, even at the parts I didn't make "funny."

Was this a rude audience? No! It was a school room filled with junior-high teens (13/14 year olds) and doing exactly what they should do when they listen to stories. I will share with you one of the most important things that I have learned: a quiet classroom of teenagers usually means they are not listening to you. Instead, they are just tolerating you and your presentation.

I have been telling stories to teens and tweens for more than two decades, even before the word "tween" existed. I will just be using the term "teens" for the rest of this article, but know that I am taking about kids between the ages of 11 and 18 specifically. Here are three quick tips for you whenever you are speaking to this age group:

1. Tell Your Face.
When you enter a classroom of teens, do you look like you are going to have a good time? Do you plan on enjoying the next hour or so? Does your face know it? Save the "professional" face for the staid adult events when you have to pretend to impress someone with your history. When telling to teens, smile and enjoy yourself. Mingle with them as they arrive in the classroom. Respond to even the most casual comments made to you before the event.

2. Build Your History.
With an adult audience, I could partially rely on my list of accomplishments, travels and years of speaking experience to get their attention. Or at least get them to quietly applaud. With teens, these histories mean nothing. Your PhD, your 100 years of experience are not something their 13 years of life experience can process. You have to earn the right to be heard. Speak with energy and genuine enthusiasm and be transparent about your purpose. Kids base their evaluation of you based on their (or their immediate peers') direct experience of you.

3. Encourage Response.
Especially in the area of storytelling, I want my audience to build the presentation with me. When teens enjoy you and your work, they will respond to what you are saying and doing. Often this begins with a silly comment or random shout-out designed to call attention to themselves. When you respect and use this initial comment and incorporate it into the story or presentation, you will begin to get comments from the audience that are relevant to what you are saying, not just self-referential remarks from your young audience. Think of these shout-outs as logs to toss on the fire you are building.

When the teens have enjoyed your presentation, they will tell their friends. You would be amazed how fast word can travel in a school. In the few minutes between classes this week, the first group had told the second group how much fun my presentation was. That type of word-of-mouth is invaluable with teens.

At the end of the sessions, a group of girls was standing in a huddle and giggling, scribbling something on a notebook. Finally, the artist approached me and handed me the "portrait" she had done of me (attached to this article over on the left) and said, "Thanks for coming to our school today. We really had a lot of fun."

Working with teens can be rewarding and is a good opportunity to make a difference in the world. Besides, pencil drawing can be among your highest compliments.

***********
The official blog for K. Sean Buvala, storyteller and storytelling coach.

Teenage Guys: The Long Thinkers

Working with audiences of all adolescent boys can be very challenging. Long-term programs, where you work with the same boys at length are great and the best choice, but most of us as storytellers have short-term contacts with our audiences.

I had a group of more than 40 boys in Baltimore on Saturday. This boys-only event was typical of and reminded me of the many boys-only events I have done. During the event, it was hard to get a real word or real answer from them. Occasionally, one of the boys would break the "boy code" and give a real answer, but for the most part, it was a room full of 40 boys all keeping the code and posturing.

This last Tuesday, the director of the program Emailed to tell me, "I did get some great feedback from the guys..So I think that a lot of them got it...just didn't show it (on Saturday)...very typical."

"Long Thinkers" is what I call these types of boys who eventually tell you what they are thinking. Eventually.

The "long thinkers" can and will answer your questions, it just takes them longer to put the answer into words. I've had many of these long thinkers in my gender-based groups. Just ask Steven any question and he will slowly rub his forehead every time, as if he is wiping mental perspiration from the brow of his brain while he retorts "I just don't think very often about the questions you ask." Jacob will join in the conversations of story, essence and spirit only "after you guys start talking for a while so my mind can get the words for what I am thinking."

Long-thinkers do try to make sense of the stories and the questions they raise. They sometimes answer in stilted, formal sentences as if almost to ask, "Is this what I am supposed to say?" One of the boys in a book I worked on wrote, "We have too much going through our minds at once and we get frustrated mentally and lose track of our thoughts. Either we are not completely sure what to think or we will feel forced to say something."

Do you have long-thinkers in your life, programs, classroooms, audiences or even your families? "Long thinking" is not just limited to boys, but I see it mostly in boys groups. If you are working with boys, keep this thought in mind: if you are good at your work and clearly understand how to tell to boys, they will get it.

They just might not tell you for many days.

>>The official blog for K. Sean Buvala, storyteller and storytelling coach.<<

Once

Two nights ago, when I was telling my version of Iron John, I began by saying, "Once." Suddenly, I was overcome by the possibilities of the word. I had to pause and even said to the gathered group, "For some reason, suddenly, the word 'once' is taking great root in my brain at this very moment."

In my singular moment of the word "once" I thought of Hawaii teller Jeff Gere who tells a story about a king who wanted to know the essential nature of time. In that story, he sticks his head in a bowl of water and lives a lifetime before being snapped back into this world, nearly avoiding drowning. When I had that "once" moment on Monday night, I suddenly understood Jeff's story. Inside that moment of "once," I remembered all the stories that I have told. I remembered the possibilities of what "once" means. I thought that just that simple word can mean so much before and so much yet to come.

I thought about the other times I have told Iron John, a story I developed for my work with adolescent boys. I recalled one of the first times I told the story and then debriefed with the boys after it. The kid who had the most to say in that conversation was one that everyone else thought of as a problem boy. "Problem boy" of course meant that his teachers said he did not sit still in class and as an adolescent was too big to try to control in a typical classroom. However, in this discussion of Iron John, he was all over and immersed in the story. He caught nuances that I had missed, found connections others could only shrug at. Amazing kid.

I thought of my gig this weekend where I will be working with freshman boys (14-15 years old) who are working through a spiritual development process. I thought about how honored and lucky I am to not only use my storytelling as "business storytelling" but to be part of an opportunity to engage in a "touchstone" with 40+ young men and their leaders. I'll be telling them the whole version of Iron John.

I looked at the people gathered to hear me tell my story. Many I knew well. I had to stop and say, "I can't tell you how much that one word, 'once,' just meant to me." For them, it was fleeting. For me it was a very long "once."

I know that this is an ethereal post. But it is what happened to me. It is in these moments that I really remember what "once" drew me to this art form. It's who I am.

The official blog for K. Sean Buvala, storyteller and storytelling coach.

Of Thank You Notes, Colored Pencils and Corporate Storytelling

Chapter One of this Generic Story: The Thank You Note
The latest thank-you note I got was from a 7th grade boy. It was written with one of those pencils where the lead changes color every few strokes. It's like a box of crayons exploded all over the letters. Every kid thinks they are the first person to ever write a note with those kind of pencils. Adults couldn't have possibly ever had something so cool as this. In his cascading colors note, he told me that he and his friends thought my stories I told in his school were "exciting." I, of course, thought this note was a classroom assignment. You know, something like: write the Storyteller and say "thank you." Turns out, this was a spontaneous action on this kid's part. He wrote a note, put it in an envelope, got a stamp and sent it. Getting these notes, from adults and kids, is one of the things I really like about being a professional storyteller.

When's the last time your (teenagers or students) experienced anything that made them hand write a note...for which they were not getting graded? When was the last time the teens in your life had something that wasn't electric grab their attention so thoroughly? That is the power of live storytelling and that is what I do.

Chapter Two of this Generic Story: Corporate Secrets
I'd like to share with you a little reality. Your customers aren't paying attention to your advertising and sales slogging anymore.

They've heard it all before. Numbers no longer slake their thirsts. If you are using the "we're number one" bit, that doesn't impress them. Your "100's of locations" map doesn't matter.

You've burned out their patience and their "Broca's" region is turned off. Your old "hard skills" have worn down to fracturing thinness. Yawn.

I know, you want to hold on to your slick presentation folders, your staff full of degrees, your nice office building. Your professional self-image. Yikes.

So, what are they, your customers, paying attention to? They want you to "surprise Broca." Go ahead and Google that. They're paying attention to and they are thirsting for, the one thing or two that sets you apart. This thing that will scream past their boredom, grab hold of their right-brains and poke them squarely in their mind's eye.

They want your stories. YOUR stories. What makes YOU in YOUR organization exist? You know, if you were really honest about it, your company is not that much different
than your competitors. Go on, no one's looking. Be honest. Let go of your "corporate mythology" of how your Goliath-ness is David proof.

What is different? Your stories? Do you have the most compelling reasons, narratives, records of what keeps your current customers with you? What's the story?

Put my money where my mouth is? What's my story? There are lots of storytellers out there. Principals at schools get packages from storytellers all the time. What makes Sean different? Here's one of many things: I capture the attention of Junior High kids so deeply and so that they run to their textbooks and computers when I am done to learn more about the literature and world folktales that I've been teaching and storytelling. When I work with teens, they write me thank you letters afterwards. Yes, handwritten letters. It's amazing. 13 year olds (even guys) writing, even when they don't have to. That's what sets me apart: stories about how teens are motivated to read, research and write when I am done in the classroom.

Hold on to your slick handouts and your Powerpoints. Facts are okay and needed. What your customers are going to remember are your stories that frame and focus your number and your facts.

Relationships sell. Relationships are built on our stories. They who tell the best story get the sales. They who tell the best story get the most conversion and buy in. This is a hard skill. "Connecting" is no longer an optional skill in business.

And after all my blathering above, what you're going to remember is the story about the multi-colored-lead pencils. Why? Because you probably had some when you were a kid or you've bought them for your own kids. Connecting.

April 2007 Podcast is Here!

I’ve posted our latest podcast from Storyteller.net and Seantells.com. The link is below or you can find it on Itunes. You can also find it on my Myspace page.

We did something a little different with this podcast. I recently spent a day as guest artist in a 7th grade classroom. That’s with young people about 12 and 13 years old. I recorded large portions of the day. I’ve narrowed those recordings down to a 35 minute podcast. There are four stories in there and a coaching moment. Even the coaching moment comes from the day with the kids.

You’ll hear this again on the podcast, but I wanted to talk a bit about this here. As you know, those of you who have taken my storytelling training or coaching, that although you as a teller and your stories may remain consistent, when you change your audience you change your style. So for this group, I was speaking specifically to a small group (25 or so kids) in a small room. It was a close and intimate environment as oppsed to a big stage or an entire school assembly. The kids had also just finished a week of Arizona's mandatory testing, so they, and the teachers in the school, were pretty exhausted. We like to describe these mandatory tests as "no child left untested." We had a casual, informal day together.

The risk anyone takes when they put forth recordings of themselves is that the listeners will think, “Oh, that is the way they always tell.” That’s simply not true of any storyteller anywhere. Well, at least the ones who understand their craft.

As you listen to this piece, keep the above paragraph in mind. Like all tellers, I have a variety of styles to choose from (and have chosen from) when my audience is 2 or 2000, aged 12 or 72, big stage or small classroom.

And, before you write me (ha ha!) about the Hades and Demeter comment, please know that I know it’s Persephone that brings the Spring, not her mother.

Our podcasts are sponsored by StorytellingProducts.com. Please stop by and support our work by purchasing a CD or Book from there. Thanks.

I hope you enjoy this month’s podcast. Click here to get it now.