Lessons Learned from Tales of Two Rivers

We entered that virtual space as strangers – hesitant to turn on our videos, too shy to be the first to introduce ourselves, not knowing what the next two weeks would be like. We left that virtual space as teammates, friends, connected in a way that surprised all of us. That’s the power of sharing personal stories, even in front of a computer screen.

When we began recruiting for this workshop, we weren’t sure how to describe it. “Wanted: participants who live, work, or grew up on the banks of the Snohomish or Stillaguamish rivers. Looking for stories related to farms, fish, or flooding.” We weren’t sure people would sign up to participate, even with the stipend to cover their time. It’s a scary thing, telling a personal story in front of complete strangers. It’s an even scarier thing to record that story on video and share it with the larger world. How could we ask people to make themselves that vulnerable? I’ll admit, I found the prospect daunting, as I considered the necessity of sharing my own story if we did not have enough participants volunteer.

But once word got out, I didn’t need to worry about sharing my story. A week prior to our storytelling workshop we had to turn one or two people away because we already had our 12 brave participants. Some of our storytellers had grown up on technology, and virtual meetings paired with new software posed no threat whatsoever. Some of our storytellers came prepared with helpers to guide them through the process, children or neighborhood youngsters that offered their support. These helpers knew the power of storytelling, of memorializing the words of the people that are meaningful to them. Those who came without helpers but needed guidance found themselves with overwhelming support from their instructors.

They each came with a story in mind. Many stories were about long ago, history, childhood. Most of those stories from the past, sadly, were about salmon – the abundant runs that used to fill our rivers and streams a distant memory today. The stories about present day were mostly about farming – growing food in an environmentally-friendly way, listening to the plants, and fulfilling childhood dreams, hopeful for the future.

All of the stories created in this workshop share one thing in common – an immense love for these lands near the rivers, through the good times and the bad. Just as all the streams combine to make a river, all of these stories combine to explain why we participate in something like the Sustainable Lands Strategy. Our livelihoods, memories, cultures on this landscape matter just as much as the soil, trees, and fish. Hopefully these stories will remind us of the meaningful relationship between people and nature – whether we’re growing food, recovering a threatened species, or raising a family. If we nurture this landscape, it will nurture us in return.

The festive and bonded group at the end of the training with jazz hands!

—Reflections by Lindsey Desmul, Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife