Stories, and the art of sharing them with others, are vital to sustaining humanity. This may seem like a bit of a stretch; on the surface, stories may seem like another shallow mode of small talk, or a fun silly interaction you share with loved ones. And yet, all of the readings from our class discussions have centered heavily around personal stories. The stories of Clare and Houska, even more dense academic writings of authors like Halberstam and Freeman, have been the driving points of conversation during each class. It is experience, example, and emotion that allows us to learn about the workings of humanity. It would be nearly impossible for a person to gain a wider worldly perspective without first understanding and listening to the experience of others. We learn about queer diversity and sustainability through Clare’s struggle with queerness in a rural childhood environment- about connections (and separation) between humanity and the earth through the intimate struggles and battles advocated by Houska- and the psychology of queerness, structural binaries and restrictions synonymous with the “ideal way of living” through the meticulous exploration of personal views, ideas of identity, and the organization of one’s self in the writing of Freeman and Halberstam.
The very end of Stones in my Pockets, Stones in my Heart by Eli Clare details a sort of metaphorical utopia, in which Clare finds comfort and belonging not in one certain label, identity, hometown, or outfit, but in a space dedicated to storytelling. “…people of many varieties and trade stories long into the night. Laugh and cry and tell stories. Sad stories about bodies stolen, bodies no longer here. Enraging stories about false images, devastating lies, untold violence. Bold, brash stories about reclaiming our bodies and changing the world” (Clare, 159-160). The kinds of stories Clare describes are for the most part unpleasant, something that, in theory, shouldnt be something you wish for in daydreams; however, these somewhat depressing stories (which are impossible to shy away from in any genuine reflection and recollections of a person’s life) do not shy away from sharing the very worst parts of being alive. It is these stories that produce connection, these stories that bring people together through good and bad to understand one another’s emotions and experience even if it may seem to be completely unfamiliar. Houska notes in her essay Sacred Resistance that too many conversations about progression center around a flat language meant to draw in everyone, and touch no one simultaneously. That humanity shouts for change but screams over each other trying to be the one to say “I know what we need”. Perhaps through a bit of genuine reflection, empathy for ourselves, others and the environment we share, we would be able to actually speak to one another. Sharing stories is imperative to sharing the earth with one another (cheesy, but seemingly true from what I have read these past few weeks).