We are thrilled to welcome 18 brilliant Storytellers to our 2024 event. Below, you can read a description of each story.
Come hear our Storytellers talk about their experiences on March 22, 2024 from 3-7pm in Swem Library at William & Mary.
I experienced the Holocaust as an inmate in a slave labor camp. I managed to escape and joined the anti-Nazi underground movement in Hungary where I helped save other Jewish lives. I then lived in Czechoslovakia under yet another oppressive regime, that of Joseph Stalin, for nearly ten years before arriving in the United States as a refugee in 1958. Though for decades I stayed silent about my experiences, I’ve come to recognize my duty to tell others of what I went through. I believe that a world view based on solid knowledge is the best safeguard against revisiting the horrors of the past.
I was born and raised in backwoods York County in a time when I thought I might be the only queer kid on the Mid-Atlantic seaboard. Being queer, and as femme as this AMAB person was, and I dare say still is, was an isolating experience. My first job at 15 was working for the CWF as a character interpreter, portraying a "young man of the college," a student named Walker Maury. While training, I had my first opportunity to tour the Wren Building. Seeing the chapel, I was awestruck, and the young Queen in me swore that one day, I'd be married in that chapel in a gown with a train as long as the aisle. It wasn't legal then for me to marry, nor did I, in my heart, ever believe it would be possible. That was 1990. 29 years later, and overcoming unforeseen obstacles, surviving many personal twists and turns, and one spectacularly decisive Supreme Court ruling, the seemingly impossible dream of that 15 year old came true.
I am a black lesbian W&M Library Staff member and I have a huge love of metal music! When I tell a lot of people I like metal, they usually double take. My first year in college, the main genre I listened to was Christian Rock, but I at some point I stumbled upon a song by a Band called Being As an Ocean. At the time, I only understood metal to have a sound like Metallica and I assumed I would never like the genre because of the screaming. But when I listened to more songs from Being As An Ocean, I fell in love with the melodic and poetic nature of the songs and lyrics. Turns out, I was a fan of post-hardcore metal and metalcore, sub genres of metal. Since then, I've gone to shows and experienced the kindness of metalhead fans (black, brown, white, tall, short, queer, straight) and the musicians. Particularly a night where I got to see Being As An Ocean 3 years later at the same venue where the main vocalist remembered me, during the middle of a set asked me to speak and made the show one of the best memories ever. This is a story about finding an unexpected community in the metal scene as a small black woman.
Even though I served in the military immediately after Sept. 11th, 2001, the decision still impacts my life and the lives of others in 2024. My time as a Marine led to my role as director of the Office of Student Veteran Engagement at William & Mary, where I have served military and veteran students since 2019.
I was a stubborn NICU baby; so stubborn that I ripped out my oxygen tube in a failed attempt to breathe on my own. This stubborn independence continued throughout my life as I dealt with having mild Cerebral Palsy, a physical disability that is core to my identity. My disability has forced me to think outside the box; and this bleeds into other aspects of my life, such as gender and sexuality. As a nonbinary and polyamorous person, I couldn't care less about how things are supposed to be done. After all, I wasn't supposed to live, wasn't supposed to walk, and I wasn't supposed to rip out my oxygen tube, yet here I am! My life is different, which is something that causes me highs and lows, but it's also something that should be cherished.
Being a child of the Philippines, growing up in Saipan, and going to college in Boston led me to find myself straddling two very different worlds - eastern and western cultures. On one hand, I wanted to honor my Filipino and Chamorro lifestyle. On the other hand, I was embracing the individualism and independence of the American society. I learned to blend the best of both cultures while finding my own unique identity. My immigrant journey has been one of bridging cultures and perspectives. By honoring where I come from while also evolving into who I want to be, I've found a sense of belonging in this world. My diverse background empowers me to connect with people from all walks of life. I'm thankful for the opportunities my education provided to shape me into who I am today.
Affirmative Action opened the door to a world and a career that previously had been closed and sealed tight preventing women entry. Progress to meet the standard of AA was slow but moved forward none the less. In 1975 , thirteen years before 911 was adopted and initiated in my community, I was fortunate to be one of the first women in my community to step through the threshold of that unlocked and open door. This is my story of forging my way into a man’s world of Police Dispatch. And the rapid evolution of technology and training required to meet the demand.
What assumptions would one make of me by just seeing me in public? I will dive briefly into my background such as coming from a rural background, having 4 siblings, working class parents and a father in prison. I will then share that we first experienced homelessness when I was young and that motivated me to do well in school. My challenges did not end when I received a college scholarship but were further exacerbated; assumptions and bureaucracy led to me almost being dropped from all my classes and a particularly difficult two days sleeping in an airport. Just because something is the law or the policy doesn't make it right; assumptions of other people hinder the success of many students like me on campuses today.
Two summers ago, I embarked on the Camino de Santiago in Spain. Each day of the journey, I heard and shared soul-filling stories with fellow pilgrims and people from all over the world. With each word exchanged, the stories helped me to situate a deeper sense of place in the world, though I didn’t have the language to explain this at the time until I spent the semester studying at the University of Galway in Ireland, Many of my stories from my time on the Camino and in Ireland exist from moments experienced with strangers, many of whom I never saw again. There is a beauty in these sorts of microcosmic moments we experience in life, which can continue to inspire and shape us, and our sense of place in the world, for time immemorial.
I have struggled with multiple mental illnesses throughout my life, including a severe unspecified bipolar mood disorder. It is helpful to have a diagnosis, but there is one part of that label that creates additional challenges for me: unspecified. I would like to share my experience of what it feels like to feel alone even within the community of people who have similar disorders to me, and how I have learned to deal with that sense of separation and find truly compassionate connection with others with bipolar disorders across our differences.
When I was a young woman in my 20's I taught swimming at my parents home to help pay for tuition. I met a young boy named Paul, he was 9-years-old. His mom told me he wouldn't speak to me or look at me, but he could learn. She asked if I could provide private lessons, which I did. What transpired in those two weeks and ended with a simple statement, was, unbeknownst to me a very pivotal encounter that ultimately has guided me throughout my career. I always wondered what became of Paul and this past summer while attending the Summer Leadership Institute in Las Vegas, NV my story came full circle as the key note speaker was a young man, whose own journey most likely mirrored Paul's in the 1970's.
I started having debilitating headaches when I was 13. It took four years for doctors to find the diagnosis of a chiari malformation and craniocervical instability, and by then, I had missed all of high school. After surgeries helped immensely with my conditions, I decided to get my GED. I then transferred here from community college. I would like to share my story, to dispel assumptions that are made about those who get their GEDs and those who go to community college, to fight that stigma that still exists. I also would like to talk about how I still struggle today with my health and what that is like while being a student, and to share specifically what it is like being someone who relies on mobility aids on this historic campus.
A heartfelt exploration of my father's regret about immigrating to the US. As my father dreams of a simpler life back in Taiwan, I grapple with the tension between his nostalgic longing, and the harsh reality of whether Taiwan is as home as he remembers. My story aims to capture the complexities of identity, belonging, and the yearning for home.
I was diagnosed with a rare kidney disease when I was 18, and a few more chronic illnesses in the years following. Since then, I’ve worked to turn an isolating experience into an identity that I am proud of. I want to share my journey of discovering and accepting who I really am, and how I used my own experiences to form a community on campus for other students like me.
The turbulent history of India/South Asia through colonization, partition, and displacement, shaped my family and my childhood. I shouldered more challenges by arriving as an international student to the US, graduating with a doctorate in Biology, and now conducting conservation research. I recently travelled to six European countries and got to go home after almost five years. I have family in India/South Asia, and a lot of friends in North America and Europe. Currently I am planning a trip to Peru which has been a childhood dream. I am working towards having a career where I can be anywhere in the world and enjoy my numerous hobbies. When I think about my future, I am passionately thrilled about being a global citizen, even though I am not sure what that would realistically look like. I love talking about biology, my story and traveling/living abroad.
17 years ago, on my wife's birthday, I thought I was having a heart attack. We were getting ready to go out to dinner with her parents and I felt a tightening in my chest that kept getting worse. An ambulance ride later, we found ourselves in the ER at the local hospital where I was probed and tested, until a couple of hours later, they were ready to pronounce me fit to go home. They said it was a false alarm. One of the attending doctors, though, had his doubts. "How long has your right arm has been numb?" he asked. That was one of the symptoms I mentioned when I was first admitted. After a few more hours of tests, including an MRI and a spinal tap I can still feel to this day, a neurologist came in, shook my sweaty, exhausted, numb right hand and introduced herself. "Hello, I'm Doctor Carson, you have multiple sclerosis." And so began my journey into the world of chronic disease. When I tell people I feel fortunate to have MS, that wasn't always the case. This story chronicles what I learned about illness and acceptance, anger and gratitude.
I am a counseling student with a passion for perinatal mental health and trauma-informed care. One year ago, my family witnessed a police incident that left a teenager injured and my then-five-year-old unable to sleep for weeks. Our experience seeking justice in the reporting system and then grappling with the emotional impact holds lessons for anyone who cares about kids (and adults!).