Becoming Faithful to a Narrative

Narrative fidelity is harder to come by than narrative probability. All probability requires is that the storyteller gets the events between the beginning and end more or less in a coherent line. Fidelity, however, requires the narrative to fit into the prior experiences of the audience. In a way, narrative fidelity demands that the story coheres with not only its events, but also all the rest of the stories the person knows and lives.

Fortunately, a flexible storyteller can tailor the tale to be faithful to the ones the audience already knows. By playing to prior experiences, the narrator builds on what the listener thinks is real, good, beautiful, and true. Alter the story a little, and one can make it more acceptable, more faithful to the world of the listener.

What is the recourse, however, if the storyteller is unwilling to change the tale?

In the context of this retreat, consider the two following narrative dilemmas.

There is a story about homelessness I want to believe. It is about ordinary people, committing themselves to making real change, both small and large. Reaching out, forging bonds, overcoming adversity, and changing nothing less than the landscape of society. I want to believe in real change, but I feel foolish doing so.

There are also stories about homelessness I want to understand. Stories about the trials homeless face. The realities of the shelter system, difficulties with police, and trouble getting food. I know these stories, but for some reason, I can’t quite understand them.

Both dilemmas are caused by a lack of narrative fidelity. I can’t believe the hopeful narrative of change because it just doesn’t seem, well, believable. It doesn’t measure up with my previous experience of homeless outreach, which is so often fraught with failure or disappointment. I don’t understand the narratives of urban homeless reality because they are so distant from my own experiences they hardly seem real.

Now, a flexible storyteller would change the narratives. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to violate the optimistic narrative, because I believe it worth trying to live up to. And I don’t want to change the painful realities of homelessness, because doing so would make invisible the suffering of actual people.

If the story must match my life to truly sink in,
And I am unwilling to change the story,
Then I must change my life.

Here beats the narrative heart of this weekend. The stories the youth told were not radically different than what one might expect. The forward thinking optimism and storying of the future were not unlike other planning sessions. Sometimes, it isn’t the stories that need changing. Sometimes it’s the listeners. Narrative fidelity suggests you only accept stories that resonate with prior experiences. If there are stories you want to believe, be strategic about the experiences you have in order to more fully believe them.

When I first conceived this retreat, I thought we would construct a narrative for the future of Stand Up For Kids Community Outreach. I discovered, however, that we already knew the story. The retreat fleshed out some details, true. More importantly, it readied our bodies, minds, and hearts to more honestly understand the trials of today, and more earnestly undertake the triumph of tomorrow.