Note: comments not attributed to the author constitute my personal opinions.
You may be familiar with Yuval Noah Harari, the author of the global bestseller, Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind. Yuval has a way of taking very complex subjects, such as the history of humans, and presenting important highlights, digestible summations, and tangible examples to illustrate his personal views. This time he’s examining how human history has been shaped by information networks, including its most recent incarnation as artificial intelligence (AI) in Nexus: A Brief History of Information Networks from the Stone Age to AI.
In Nexus, Yuval leads us on a recap of human history (sounds familiar), but this time as a way to view our common journey on this planet in the context of how human networks and information networks evolved in tandem.
Information is increasingly seen by many philosophers and biologists, and even by some physicists, as the most basic building block of reality, more elementary than matter and energy.
It was interesting to consider the evolution of cultures from the perspective of how human networks evolved in parallel with information networks. With oral cultures, “…realities were created by telling a story that many people repeated with their mouths and remembered in their brains.” Before the advent of any writing system, personal storytelling was our exclusive information network.
Similar to how humans act in the modern world, prehistoric humans told each other stories on a daily basis. Many were soon forgotten, but sometimes they were committed to memory. Stories deemed to be important were retold as a way to spread their message, or shared with future generations as a way to enshrine their culture.
But we must also remember that the retelling of any story will introduce some inaccuracies, so in a sense, stories are living entities that, over time, stray from the truth. And beyond the changes that happen to stories unintentionally with retelling, at some point in time, humans figured out how to tell outright lies.
Misinformation is an honest mistake, occurring when someone tries to represent reality but gets it wrong. Disinformation is a deliberate lie, occurring when someone consciously intends to distort our view of reality.
So our information networks have never been completely accurate, but with the advent of writing systems, it was possible to capture a version of the story, such that many people could read the same words. Once again, there was no way to know if what was written was true, leaving humans left to wonder whether any written document was accurate, or was simply preserving another falsehood. Regardless, it was common for the written word to be widely adopted as true. Government decrees and religious texts being two common examples.
But whether true or false, written documents created new realities.
Writing, once performed by hand, was revolutionized by the printing press, then electrified by technology as information was transmitted on radio and television. The birth of the internet allowed us to transfer files and even send emails, while the inception of the world wide web allowed us to be publishers, and for a brief moment, it felt as though personal storytelling — the first information network — was having a renaissance of sorts. Once again, however, the powers that be — both political and corporate — came to control a large portion of the digital landscape, thus shaping the flow of information, both true and false.
All powerful information networks can do both good and ill, depending on how they are designed and used.
Thus it follows that human networks can become ill when they buy into the disinformation promoted by ill-intended information networks. Communist / fascist / marxist / stalinist governments are prime examples. And though the western world has long felt immune to such a fate, disinformation networks, increasingly powered by AI, are active at this very moment, with the intent of dismantling democracy.
We should not assume that delusional networks are doomed to failure. If we want to prevent their triumph, we will have to do the hard work ourselves.
Artificial intelligence is often seen as just another technological upgrade, but it’s fundamentally different. To date, the stories we share, whether they are true or false, or intended to do good or cause harm, were created and disseminated by humans. With AI, we must now confront the fact that “nonhuman intelligence” has that same capability. Are we ready for nonhuman wisdom?
The invention of AI is potentially more momentous than the invention of the telegraph, the printing press, or even writing, because AI is the first tool that is capable of making decisions and generating ideas by itself.
Pause for a moment and consider that concept. Rather than only consuming our information in order to paraphrase its meaning, AI creating content on its own is akin to it being a nonhuman storyteller. I’m not sure where this capability will go, but I fail to see the upside. As AI can’t experience anything in the real world, how will it craft a narrative? For example, a hurricane hitting a major city will result in a great deal of information being created — facts and figures, as well as various predictions, followed by news reports, interviews, and first hand accounts. Only humans will be able to tell those stories, right? Or will AI be able to generate its own version of what is happening? And how will we know the difference?
More than ever, the personal stories we share are of vital importance. The only way that positive change has ever occurred is by sharing our thoughts, feelings, and experiences. But with AI, is our birthright of being the sole source of stories at risk? For me, that question was top of mind after reading Nexus.
If a twenty-first-century totalitarian network succeeds in conquering the world, it may be run by nonhuman intelligence, rather than by a human dictator.
We’ve already seen cases where AI was used by humans to influence elections and stoke hatred between different cultures. What will happen if humans are removed from the equation altogether? It may be a long shot, but I’m thinking we need to create as many true, personal stories as we can for AI to consume. My hope is that in doing so, we can inject AI with a sense of human empathy, morality, compassion and respect.
The most impactful TEDx Talks are those which can alter our perspective on a subject of consequence. Sometimes that means clarifying the nature of a critical problem, or framing it in a way that adds relevance to our lives. Even though we were already aware of the situation, we now see it in a different light. In some instances, however, a speaker will introduce us to a topic we were not aware of before, or use a term that we’re unfamiliar with to describe an issue.
This was the case for me when Justin Black began describing his experience with inherited trauma. I’ve worked with a number of speakers whose childhood was affected by traumatic family situations, and our conversations included their relationship with family members, but I hadn’t thought of their experiences from a standpoint of inheritance. Justin’s talk at TEDxFolsom altered my perspective.
“And simply, what you can do, is be one caring adult. Not just working to help someone beat the odds, but change the odds for families and communities for generations and generations to come.”
Although the experiences of our youth impact us, often times negatively, we have the option of acting differently in adulthood, and thus, prevent the next generation from going down a similar path. But it requires awareness of these impacts, and a commitment to make conscious decisions that will create a better future, and as Justin demostrates, it’s possible.
As you watch his talk, take note of how Justin explains the issue in a number of ways: describing his experiences (both while growing up and later as an adult) meeting the woman who he would later marry and become parents with, and providing details on the ACES Assessment. At times his talk is painful, while at other times joyful. A key element that makes the narrative flow, is his use of humor.
There’s a transcript of his talk below, and I invite you to give it a read, as you’ll come to see how Justin structured his talk and transitioned from one story element to the next.
If you want to know more about the journey that Justin and Alexis have been on, as they help the world redefine what normal looks like I highly recommend reading their book, Redefining Normal.
Transcript
July 11, 2016, a day I would never forget, in the week that changed my life forever. I was a freshman at Western Michigan University, starting an orientation week at my scholarship program. And on the first day of orientation, I walked into a busy room filled with conversation. As a nervous freshman, I tried to find a table with the least amount of people, farthest in the back.
I came across a table with three students, and one student in particular, told me all about her summer of studying abroad in South Africa. I mean, from bungee jumping, shark cage diving, sky diving, even getting four tattoos while there. And then, it was my turn to tell her about my amazing summer, as a waiter at TGI Fridays.
But all in all, college for me was an opportunity to have a fresh start. Not a fresh start that showcased my authenticity, but pretty much the opposite. For me, I wanted to bury the memories of being the kid who didn’t have heat on Christmas morning. I wanted to bury the memories of being the kid who had his water cut off at various times of the year. And I wanted to bury the memories of being the kid who literally had to fight in school just to gain respect.
So college for me was an opportunity to hit the reset button and actually put on a mask. But Thursday, that Thursday, I felt exposed. Our first activity that Thursday consisted of two presenters passing out note cards to each student in our cohort. And with these note cards, they asked us to write something down that we had been through that no one would know by looking at us.
And not only that, pass those note cards to the front of the room to be read aloud anonymously. I mean, here I am, trying to run away from my past, and here it is right in front of me again. But the stories of triumph, the stories of overcoming that I heard from my fellow cohort members, it gave me a sense of truth and a spirit of authenticity.
And then it finally hit me. It finally hit me. I was reminded of why we were all together in that room, why each and every one of us sat in the seat that day. The truth was that this was a program for foster youth in higher education. Each and every one of us was working to defy the odds, to join a 3% of foster youth to graduate from college. Each and every one of us, as former foster youth, was working to overcome generational burdens, many of us generational traumas, from four to five generations maybe, that we didn’t choose, we didn’t want to accept, but it was put on us to overcome.
And it’s safe to say that after that activity, my conversations for the rest of the week were less casual and more authentic. So the girl with the tattoos and I, we went for a walk that evening around campus. We ended our night in the lawn of our dormitory, watching the moon peek above the buildings on campus. While laying in the grass, we started to share what led us to this point in life.
What had us join this program, and even telling stories of some of our traumatic experiences. As she began to share, I remember noticing which note card was hers. She looked down in the grass with her eyes filled with tears. And she began to share with me that both her mother and her grandmother were victims of suicide.
I grabbed her hand to affirm how she felt in that moment. Then I begin to share my story. That there were two generations of drug abuse on my mom’s side of the family, and three generations of domestic violence on my dad’s side of the family. And these, everyone, these are the examples of the invisible burdens that many of us are carrying around.
While you may not have gone through what I’ve experienced or gone through what she’s experienced, each and every one of us, each and every one of us have things in our past, a family history, and many of us have traumas that we are working to overcome. These are what I would like to call inherited traumas.
Inherited traumas being generational traumas that are normalized by the previous generation, maybe your parents, maybe your grandparents. Generational traumas normalized by the previous generation and passed down to you, maybe as a part of your identity, maybe even a part of a cultural standard, but ultimately normalized in your lifetime and passed down to you.
Now, four years from that moment of laying in the grass and the greatest year of all of our lives, it’s 2020, right? Hopefully not reminiscing about it, don’t think about it, it’s okay, it’s all right, I won’t take you back. But four years from that moment, I was blessed to have the girl that I met during the orientation week become my wife.
And while marriage has been amazing, it’s been such a blessing, we had to be intentional about our past, that our past doesn’t influence our future in a relationship that we have today. But the question I have for you all, the question I want you to think about as you leave here today, is how long will we allow inherited trauma to impact who we are today?
How long will we allow inherited trauma to impact the relationship that we form? And how long will we allow inherited trauma to impact the future of our families? Now, before we were married, while we were still dating, we took an exam called the ACES Assessment. By show of fans, how many of you have heard of the ACES Assessment? How many of you have taken the ACES Assessment? Quite a few people.
ACES stands for Adverse Childhood Experiences. It’s one of the greatest predictors of our future outcomes. It assesses child abuse and childhood experiences as a public health problem. Based on your social and economic status, of where you work, live, play, and learn, some of us may have experienced more ACEs, or traumatic experiences than others. The ACEs Assessment is on a scale of one to ten. With one being the least amount of traumatic experiences, and ten being the most amount of traumatic experiences.
While we knew we had some things in our past we needed to work out and deal with, we were completely unaware of the score we would receive. And for me, while I took the ACES exam, I remember going question after question, marking a yes, and then another yes, and then another yes. And then, as heartbreaking as it was, we received our score. I had a score of a nine, and my wife had a score of a ten. The two highest scores you can receive on the exam. I guess for me on the bright side, this is one of the exams in my life where I did have a high score, so I was pretty happy about that. I’m like, hey, let’s celebrate that, you know?
But honestly, what’s the story behind the numbers? You see, two-thirds of participants have at least one or more ACE on the assessment. While one in five participants score at least a three or higher on the assessment. But let’s take it a step further. Taking it a step further, we have the different categories of ACEs. These categories of ACEs consist of abuse, neglect, and household dysfunction. These are the categories in which the assessment is based off of.
But let’s take it a step further. A step further than the numbers, and a step further than the categories themselves. I would like to highlight the iceberg. We see the tip of the iceberg is what we would like to show to the outside world; our actions, our behaviors, and for me for a long time, my accomplishments. The things we would like to highlight or showcase to the outside world.
But what’s underneath the tip of the iceberg? What’s underneath the tip of the iceberg, a lot of times is our traumas, our ACEs, our family histories, and maybe for you it’s something that many of us, that we’ve written down in a note cart that people would know about us, and something we have yet to deal with. And if we haven’t dealt with what’s underneath the tip of the iceberg, if we haven’t dealt with that yet, and it goes unaddressed, and it goes unresolved, it can easily become a part of our inherited trauma.
And then it doesn’t just become an inheritance just to you, it becomes an inheritance also for your children as well. And speaking of children, my wife and I wanted to wait at least four to five years before having children once we were married. But 2022 came rolling around, and one day she told me that her body starts to feel a bit different, and many of you know exactly what that means. So we decided to take a pregnancy test, and we saw two red lines. Two red lines that changed our life forever.
After a few Google searches, not knowing exactly what that meant, shocked, confused, we took five more pregnancy tests. We had to be sure. But August 2022 came, and we had our baby girl. And while being a parent has been such an eye-opener, has been incredible, has been amazing, I still have this sense of fear in my heart that, what if my generational trauma, what if my inherited trauma, the things that have been normalized for me as a child -the abuse, the neglect, the household dysfunction – what if what’s been normalized to me, becomes normal to her? What if my inherited trauma becomes an inheritance to her?
You see, all of our children are looking at us to lead them, to guide them, and to create the example for them, and looking at us to create their normal. But what happens when generational trauma becomes our normal? You see, when generational trauma becomes normalized, it turns into violence ripping apart families and communities. When generational trauma becomes normalized, it turns into substance abuse tearing apart entire family’s neighborhoods. And when generational trauma is normalized, it leaves nine-year-old boys like me, joining nearly half a million kids, a part of the foster care system in America.
So what do we do? How do we redefine the normal? How do we redefine the normal for ourselves, for families, and communities, and those around us? You see, if you were to draw a circle of 0.6 mile radius around a child’s home, you will be able to predict their future outcomes. Based on your environment, their education, neighborhood, and most importantly, parental influence. Yes, I believe that parental influence is the game changer. Of how we love, lead, and guide the next generation can make a world of difference.
In fact, studies showed that kids who grew up in a two-parent household are 40% more likely to graduate from college. And that’s just one aspect of parental influence. But all of us in this room, we play different roles. Some of you may currently be parents. Others may be parents down the line. And many of us know someone who’s raising a child.
So what are some simple but impactful things that we can do to make a world of difference for the society around us? Number one, the number one thing I believe we can do, is have a vision for our relationship, a vision for our relationship that consists of challenging one another to be a better version of ourselves.
Maybe it looks like you taking the ACES Assessment before you join together in a relationship. Maybe that looks like you going home, digging through your drawers, finding a note card, and writing something down that you’ve been through that people wouldn’t know by looking at you. And asking yourself, have you dealt with what’s on that note card?
The number two thing I would say, the number two thing we can do to redefine a normal is invest in the future of our children. Invest in the future of our children. While financial investment is amazing, it’s important, it’s incredible, I love it. But even more important, and even more impactful is investing in our children. What it looks like, is making sure that they can grow up and be loving and caring parents themselves, making sure that they become loving and caring parents themselves. But also being aware that we need to raise our children, knowing that how we treat them today, would be the same way they treat others when they become an adult.
And last but not least, easily most importantly, as a wise and amazing man once said, is to love your neighbor as you love yourself. While many of us play different roles, not all of us will be parents, but we can be amazing tutors, we can be incredible mentors, and we can all be loving neighbors. And as stated by Josh Ship, “Every child is one caring adult away from being a success story.”
So how can you be that caring adult? How can you redefine a normal? You must become intentional with the relationships that you form. You must invest in the future of our children. And simply, what you can do, is be one caring adult. Not only just working to help someone beat the odds, but change the odds for families and communities for generations and generations to come.
While mental health was once a topic rarely talked about in public, thankfully the stigma continues to fade away and issues are now discussed more often in forums such as TED/TEDx events. In her talk at TEDxUHasselt, Olivia Remes gives the audience a few tips on how to cope with anxiety. We’ve all felt anxious at some point in our life – most likely, many times – but in these cases the feeling goes away once the situation that caused our anxiety has passed. On the other hand, anxiety disorders are of a more serious nature.
An anxiety disorder is different from “normal” anxiety. “Abnormal” anxiety is defined by excessive and persistent worries that don’t go away, even when there’s nothing to be stressed or nervous about. With an anxiety disorder, people usually try to avoid triggering situations or things that worsen their symptoms. – Healthline Media
Olivia is primarily talking about those people affected by anxiety disorders, but the techniques that she presents have much broader application. Watch her talk, then come back to review her transcript, as well as the comments I’ve made. Notice how she begins with a story, then moves to an explanation of the topic, before shifting to the suggestions regarding how to deal with anxiety.
Transcript (my notes in red)
Olivia invites the audience into a pair of situations that may be familiar to a lot of people.
Imagine that you’re getting ready to go to a party. You feel excited, but also nervous, and you’ve got this feeling in your stomach almost like another heartbeat.
There’s something holding you back, holding you back from getting too happy. “No, you mustn’t get too happy. Better to be cautious, otherwise, something bad might happen.” You start wondering, “Who should I talk to when I get there? What if no one wants to talk to me? What if they’ll think I’m weird?”
When you arrive at the party, someone comes up to you and starts talking with you, and as this is happening, your mind starts racing, your heart begins pounding, you start sweating, and it feels almost like you’re dissociating from yourself, like it’s an out-of-body experience, and you’re just watching yourself talk.
“Keep it together,” you say to yourself, but you can’t, and it’s just getting worse. After a few minutes of conversation, the person you’ve been speaking to leaves, and you feel utterly defeated. This has been happening to you in social situations for a long time.
Or imagine that every time you go out, and you’re in crowded places, you feel this panic starting to arise. When you’re surrounded by lots of people, like on a bus, you start to feel hot, nauseous, uneasy, and to prevent this from happening, you start avoiding a lot of places which makes you feel lonely and isolated.
You or the person in both of these scenarios have anxiety disorders. And what I can tell you is that anxiety is very common, much more than people think. Right now, one in 14 people around the world have an anxiety disorder, and each year, it costs over 42 billion dollars to treat this mental health problem. To show you the impacts that anxiety has on someone’s life, I will just mention that anxiety can lead to depression, school dropout, suicide.
There are a few ways to quote statistics, and in this case, Olivia decided to say, “one in 14 people”. That calculates to 7.1%, and she could have decided to quote that statistic instead. Is one or the other easier for you to understand? Is one way more impactful than the other?
It makes it harder to focus, and to hold down a job, and it can lead to relationship breakdown. But a lot of people don’t know this. That’s why, a lot of times, people sweep anxiety under the rug, as just nerves that you need to get over, as a weakness. But anxiety is so much more than that. A reason why so many people don’t think it’s important is that they don’t know what it is. Is it your personality? Is it an illness? Is it a normal sensation? What is?
That’s why it’s important to differentiate what is normal anxiety, from what is an anxiety disorder. Normal anxiety is an emotion that we all get when we’re in stressful situations. For example, let’s say, you’re out in the woods, and you come face-to-face with a bear. This will probably make you feel a little bit anxious, and you’ll probably want to start running like crazy. This anxious feeling that you get is good because it protects you, it saves you, and it makes you want to hightail it out of there, although maybe it’s not such a good idea to start running when you see a bear. I really don’t think you can outrun a bear.
Anxiety helps us meet our deadlines at work and deal with emergencies in life, but when this anxiety emotion is taken to the extreme, and arises in situations which don’t pose a real threat, then that’s when you might have an anxiety disorder.
For example, people with generalized anxiety disorder worry excessively and constantly about everything going on in their lives, and they find it very difficult to control this worry. They also have symptoms like restlessness, fear, they find it hard to fall asleep at night, and they can’t concentrate on tasks.
It’s often the case that when presenting a scientific topic to the public they will only have a general, and sometimes minimal, level of knowledge about it. In this situation, there’s not only a need to describe anxiety disorder, but to differentiate it from our normal anxious reaction to a specific situation. If you’re story involves a technical or complex subject, not just those based in science, think about how you can explain the topic clearly to an audience in a short period of time.
In spite of whatever kind of anxiety you might be suffering from, there is something that you can do to lower it. It works, and it’s simpler than you may think. All too often, we’re given medication for mental disorders, but it doesn’t always work in the long run. Symptoms often come back, and you’re back to where you started.
So here’s something else to consider. The way you cope or handle things has a direct impact on how much anxiety you’re experiencing, and if you tweak the way you’re coping, then you can lower your anxiety. In our study at the University of Cambridge, we showed that women living in poor areas have a higher risk for anxiety than women living in richer areas. These results didn’t surprise us, but when we looked closer, we found that women living in poor areas, if they had a particular set of coping resources, they didn’t have anxiety, while women living in poor areas without these coping resources had anxiety.
When addressing topics involving health, it’s important to back up your recommendations with research – studies, experiments, clinical trials, etc. In this talk, I would have preferred that Olivia provide some details regarding the study she mentions. How many people were studied? Over what period of time? How was the study conducted? This could be done in a couple of sentences and would create a stronger foundation for her story, in my opinion.
Other studies showed that people who had faced extreme circumstances, who had faced adversity, been through wars and natural disasters, if they had coping resources, they remained healthy and free of mental disorders, while others, facing the same hardships but without coping skills went on a downward spiral and developed mental disorders.
Beyond the examples given in the opening of the talk, this represents an important addition. Wars and natural disasters happen in many countries, and the effects on those who live through them can be serious. Considering the current state of the world, she could have added climate change to the list, as it will affect everyone.
So, what are some of these coping resources, and how can we use them to lower our anxiety?And before I dive into what they are, I’d like to point out – and I think this is so interesting – you can develop these coping resources or coping skills on your own through the things that you do; you can take charge of your anxiety and lower it, which I think is so empowering.
This is where the story pivots from explaining the problem, to presenting the solution. By also mentioning that people can utilize the coping resources on their own, Olivia captures our attention, as we now know that something tangible is coming up. The essence of any impactful talk is how the audience will benefit from the message.
Today I’ll be talking about three coping resources, and the first one is feeling like you’re in control of your life. People who feel like they’re more in control of their life have better mental health. If you feel like you’re lacking in control in life, then research shows that you should engage in experiences that give you greater control. I’ll show you what I mean.
Do you sometimes find that you put off starting something because you just don’t feel ready enough? Do you find it hard to make decisions, like what to wear, what to eat, who to date, which job to take up? Do you tend to waste a lot of time deciding what you might do while nothing gets done?
A way to overcome indecision and this lack of control in life, is to do it badly. There’s a quote by writer and poet GK Chesterton that says, “Anything worth doing, is worth doing badly the first time.” The reason why this works so well is that it speeds up your decision-making and catapults you straight into action, otherwise, you can spend hours deciding how you should go about doing something, or what you should do.
This can be paralyzing and can make you afraid to even begin. All too often, we aim for perfection, but never end up doing anything because the standards that we set for ourselves are too high, they’re intimidating, which stresses us out, so we delay starting something, or we might even abandon the whole thing altogether. Do it badly frees you up to take action.
I mean, you know how it is. So often, we want to do something perfectly. We can’t start until it’s the perfect time, until we’ve got all the skills. But this can be daunting and stressful, so why not just jump into it, just do it however, without worrying if it’s good or bad? This will make it that much easier to start something, and as you’re doing it badly to finish it, and when you look back, you’ll realize, more often than not, that actually, it’s not that bad.
A close friend of mine who has anxiety started using this motto, and this is what she said, “When I started using this motto, my life transformed. I found I could complete tasks in much shorter time periods than before. Do it badly gave me wings to take risks, to try something differently, and to have way more fun during the whole process. It took the anxiety out of everything and replaced it with excitement.” So do it badly, and you can improve as you go along. I’d like to ask you to think about this. If you start using this motto today, how would your life change?
Olivia explains her first coping technique – do it badly – in a simple, straight forward fashion, and also tells a story about someone who actually tried it. I would have framed this example by stating that there are times when the technique is not appropriate – when doing something badly can be dangerous, to yourself or others. There are times when we should wait until our skill level is adequate. If your story contains recommendations, consider whether a caveat needs to be included.
The second coping strategy is to forgive yourself, and this is very powerful if you use it. People with anxiety think a lot about what they’re doing wrong, their worries, and how bad they’re feeling. Imagine if you had a friend who constantly pointed out everything that you’re doing wrong, and everything that was wrong with your life. You would probably want to get rid of this person right away, wouldn’t you? Well, people with anxiety do this to themselves all day long. They’re not kind to themselves.
So maybe it’s time to start being kinder with ourselves, time to start supporting ourselves. And a way to do this, is to forgive yourself for any mistakes you think you might have made just a few moments ago, to mistakes made in the past. If you had a panic attack and are embarrassed about it, forgive yourself. If you wanted to talk to someone, but couldn’t muster up the courage to do so, don’t worry about it, let it go. Forgive yourself for anything and everything, and this will give you greater compassion towards yourself. You can’t begin to heal until you do this.
And last, but not least, having a purpose and meaning in life is a very important coping mechanism. Whatever we do in life, whatever work we produce, however much money we make, we cannot be fully happy until we know that someone else needs us. That someone else depends on our accomplishments, or on the love that we have to share. It’s not that we need other people’s good words to keep going in life, but if we don’t do something with someone else in mind, then we’re at much higher risk for poor mental health.
The famous neurologist Dr. Victor Frankel said, “For people who think there’s nothing to live for, and nothing more to expect from life, the question is getting these people to realize that life is still expecting something from them.”
Doing something with someone else in mind can carry you through the toughest times. You’ll know the why for your existence and will be able to bear almost any how. Almost any how. So the question is, do you do at least one thing with someone else in mind? This could be volunteering, or it could be sharing this knowledge that you gained today with other people, especially those who need it most, and these are often the people who don’t have money for therapy, and they’re usually the ones with the highest rates of anxiety disorders. Give it to them, share with others, because it can really improve your mental health.
Olivia’s second and third coping resources – regarding self forgiveness and having purpose – are topics that could be the basis of their own talk, but once again, she presents them in an easy and accessible fashion. The audience now has three techniques that they can practice on their own. Should she have also mentioned that anyone experiencing more serious issues should seek out professional help? Are the ideas you present applicable in any situation, or are there limits?
So I would like to conclude with this. Another way you can do something with someone else in mind is finishing work that might benefit future generations. Even if these people will never realize what you’ve done for them, it doesn’t matter, because you will know, and this will make you realize the uniqueness and importance of your life.
One the one hand, I appreciate the message that Olivia ends with – realizing the importance of our life by serving others – that’s very powerful, but it’s basically an extension of her third technique. It’s not a summation of the stories central theme of coping with anxiety. For me, it’s missing that wrap-up.
Thank you.
[Note: all comments inserted into this transcript are my opinions, not those of the speaker, the TED organization, nor anyone else on the planet. In my view, each story is unique, as is every interpretation of that story. The sole purpose of these analytical posts is to inspire a storyteller to become a storylistener, and in doing so, make their stories more impactful.]
Journalism—the practice of reporting on events, people and facts—is a powerful method of storytelling. The (unbiased) goal is to tell us what happened, where it happened, who was involved, and what they said. When it’s done well, there’s an opportunity for us to see the world around us through a slightly different lens.
Journalists often develop their stories in a secondhand fashion with information from outside sources. But the most impactful reporting happens on site, inside the action as it’s taking place. Not only is there a story about the events, people, and facts, there’s a second story unfolding at the same time. It’s the journalist’s personal story. A narrative which reveals what’s happening to them, as well as what they’re thinking and feeling.
This is especially true for photojournalists who work in conflict zones. A soldier engaged in battle will have some degree of agency, but anyone with a camera instead of a weapon does not possess that advantage.
As a curator and advisor for TEDxLisboa 2023, I had the honor of working with award-winning photojournalist Paul Conroy on his talk. While most speakers I work with are sitting in a safe place—at their office or home—Paul was on the front lines in Ukraine, in a city that was being bombarded by Russian forces.
Whenever we spoke Paul’s face was lit only by the glow from his laptop screen.
“I can’t turn on any lights or the Russians will target the building I’m in.”
He took a short break from the front lines to give this talk, but he’s now back in Ukraine. His talk is not about the conflict he’s covering today—he’ll need to give that talk one day—but rather about his harrowing adventure while in Syria with Marie Colvin. Her passion for telling stories of warfare ended up costing her life. It was Paul’s honor to tell the world this story.
“So, once again, I’m back to shining lights in dark places, the haunts where despots and dictators like to operate. Once again, camera in hand, I’m back to peeling onions.
To get the full picture of Paul’s experience in Syria with Marie, I recommend reading his book, Under the Wire.
The full story would take many, many hours to tell, but Paul masterfully crafted a narrative that spans less than 20 minutes, yet takes you on a journey to hell and back. He choose to reveal the story in ten steps, and he calls out each one along the way. Unusual for a TEDx Talk, but I found it to be an effective way of pacing the story.
Transcript
One – Assignment
Home for me in 2012 was a 17th century cottage set in the Devon countryside. I’d been in Libya for a year covering the revolution with my dear colleague Marie Colvin of the Sunday Times. I’d met Marie in Syria in 2003 when we were both trying to break into Iraq illegally, and we’ve been best friends ever since then.
The piece of my Sunday afternoon was broken with a call from the Sunday Times picture desk. “Paul, we need you to go into Syria, meet Marie in Beirut,” said Andrew.
Trouble had been brewing in Syria since the start of the Arab Spring, but now Assad was shooting protesters in the streets. By midnight that night I was at Heathrow Airport, shoving 20,000 pounds down my boots, in my jacket. There was a limit of 10,000, and I just hadn’t read the paper.
So the next day I met up in Beirut with Marie and we started planning our trip into Homs. We knew the city was under siege. We’d been watching it streamed on the internet, and the journalists coming out were telling us it’s too much, it’s over for us. And Marie just laughed, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “It’s what we do.”
She’d once given a speech where she said we were there to bear witness, and she used the analogy that getting to the heart of any story was like peeling back the layers of an onion, and when you got to the core of the onion, that was the story, that was where you needed to be.
Two – Beirut, meeting the smugglers
We spent a few weeks in Beirut meeting up with representatives of the Free Syrian Army. They were the armed group opposing Assad, and they finally gave us a location and a time, and we had to meet up with a guy called ‘Beardy Man’, that was his name.
Two o’clock the next day in Starbucks we sat opposite Beardy Man and two other guys, and he has got a big beard, and he’s got his laptop out and he’s assessing us. By assessing, I mean he’s Googling us, reading Marie’s stories and looking at my pictures. And after a while he just leans back, gives a thumbs up, and goes, “You’re in.” We’d passed the Beardy Man test.
Three – The journey to the mountains
On a cold chilly morning in February the Free Syrian Army loaded us in to a rickety old van with other people, fare-paying passengers, and we began the drive north to Syria.
We were going in illegally. We had no visas. We’d both been banned from Syria years ago so it was hopeless. But our fixer, Lena, had been told by Lebanese intelligence in Beirut that any journalists found in the vicinity of Homs were to be executed, and their bodies were to be thrown onto the battlefield.
As we neared the mountains, a sense of doom kind of settled on both of us. We could hear explosions in the distance, and we knew too well that them explosions, the source of them explosions, were where we were headed, Syria.
Four – Crossing the border
We waited for hours in what was little more than a shepherd’s hut while the Free Syrian Army fed us big bowls of meat stew, which we sat there eating. Eventually at midnight they called us outside. “Stay close,” warned a shadowy figure, there are many soldiers.
So we spent the next hour tiptoeing through a deserted village, a minefield, around these army checkpoints, and all the time following the only visible sign of our guide, which was his white training shoes in the night. And as we skirted the army checkpoints, occasional shots rang out, but after an hour we were in Syria, we’d made it in.
Five – The road to Al Bueda
We travelled by car, van, motorbike, avoiding regime and Hezbollah checkpoints. It took about three days to travel 30 kilometers, as all the time the Syrian army hunted the press and the journalists with the same murderous intent. The regime were everywhere in Syria, there were no safe spaces.
Army vehicles patrolled the roads, and the checkpoints were random and often. Progress was painfully slow. We never undressed, we never took off our boots, and every night before we went to sleep we planned an escape route out into the olive groves.
Six – The tunnel from hell
In the middle of a cold wet field at midnight the FSA led us into a tunnel. It was actually a three foot high sewer drain, concrete, with no lights. There was very little air, and the heat build up was intense. The only way we could carry our kit was strapped to our chests, and because of the height of the tunnel we kind of had to walk bent double.
As we progressed down the tunnel we were passing people evacuating the wounded and the dying. This tunnel was a lifeline to Baba Amr, a small sunny neighborhood in Homs that was considered the beating heart of the revolution.
Everything came through this tunnel, some of it on the back of a motorcycle that burnt up precious oxygen for those on foot, and we carried on walking bent double for three miles. At the end of the tunnel they pulled us out into a warscape that was akin to one of Dante’s inner circles of hell.
As I looked around I could see the still smoldering skeletal remains of buildings, and it was all lit by the pale light of a full moon. We were driven at breakneck speed through a barrage of RPGs – that’s rocket propelled grenades – and heavy machine gun fire until we arrived drained and exhausted at the media centre.
The media centre was the source of all information coming out of Syria during the revolution. But the reality was, it was a three-story building. Inside there were twenty young Syrians, wrapped in blankets against the cold, all murmuring into Skype. The only light was the pale blue glow off their laptop screens.
Seven – The widow’s basement
While we were in Homs, we’d heard talk that there was a basement where all the women and the children who’d lost husbands and fathers were sheltered. It was one of the few shelters in Homs and it was known as The Widow’s Basement. The camera always affects people’s reactions when you pull one out, so I got Marie to go down first, and I sat at the top of the stairs with a long lens taking shots.
This picture captures exactly what Marie and I saw. This is the true face of the victims of war. This was our story. This was the core of the onion. Inside the basement one woman had given birth, but due to malnutrition she couldn’t breastfeed, so the baby was being fed on a mixture of sugar and water.
While Marie interviewed the tragic victims, I wandered round taking shots of the elderly, the children, and the dying. Wale our beloved translator, he heard of the death of one of his friends during one of Marie’s interviews, which was absolutely heartbreaking. But Marie shone. This is why we did what we did. These were the people who had the least control over their destiny in any war situation.
Eight – The field clinic
After the widow’s basement we ran to the field clinic. It was the run of death. Explosions ripped up the tarmac behind us as Assad’s gunners fired round after round of rocket and artillery fire. We arrived at the basement, ears ringing, nerves shredded, and they dragged us into the doorway.
We were greeted by Dr. Mohammed and a scene of absolute carnage. The dead and the dying filled up every gurney, every bed. The floor was awash with blood, and the medical staff dragged and stacked bodies anywhere they could find the space. They worked with first aid kits. There were no CT scanners or x-ray machines, just bandages and plasters of Paris. It was actually one of the worst places I’d been in any war zone.
Nine – Death and injury
On the 21st of February, both Marie and I agreed we weren’t going to get out alive, so we should do stories on BBC, CNN and Channel 4. Marie told the heartbreaking story of a young toddler who died of shrapnel wounds to the stomach, and the images went out to the world.
About midnight, not long after the interview, it was about midnight, there was a knock at the door, and I was like, “Who the hell is that?” We opened the door and there was three French journalists, Edith Bouvier, William Daniels and Remi Ochlik, and they’d just come in through the tunnel.
So the next morning, me and Marie woke up at 5am to go back to the field clinic. Before we left the building there were two almighty explosions, one 100 meters either side of the building and we waited 30 seconds, and then there were two more explosions, this time no more than 50 meters away.
I realized at that point in time what they were doing, they were bracketing, they were walking the shells in on the building. Thirty seconds later, the first shell hit the media centre. It destroyed the roof and the ceiling, and everything fell on top of us.
The second shell hit the back of the building where Marie and I had just been sleeping. That was destroyed. The third shell exploded somewhere in the building, and that filled the room with black acrid smoke and concrete dust. Seconds later, the fourth shell hit, killing Remi and Marie instantly.
I was still conscious, and I’d felt a pressure on my leg, so I leaned down to investigate, and as I touched my leg, my hand went through and came out the other side. And for a few moments I stood there wiggling my hand. I grabbed the artery inside to see if that was still intact. It was.
I grabbed the bone, that wasn’t broken, but I knew I had a few minutes to get a tourniquet on, otherwise I would bleed to death. So I grabbed the scarf from around my neck, wrapped it round, pulled it as tight as I could. But after a few minutes, I was still bleeding out.
I saw an ethernet cable in the rubble, so I grabbed that, wrapped that round, grabbed a piece of wood from the building, and pulled that as tight as I could. After about 20 minutes, the Free Syrian Army came, dragged me out of the rubble, and took me to the field clinic where Dr. Mohamed was stood there and he’s like, “Hello Paul, what’s wrong with you?”
And I’m going, “I’ve got a hole in my leg.” And he’s going, “Oh so you have.” So, Dr. Mohamed grabs a toothbrush and a bottle of iodine, and my leg is about that big, the hole, and he just pours iodine in with a toothbrush and spends 10 minutes scrubbing my leg.
And every time it nearly got clean, another shell had hit the building and concrete dust would fall in, so he’d have another go. And I was going, “Is that a toothbrush?” He’s going, “No, no, no, it’s a medical brush.” So eventually, he says, “We’ve run out of stitches.” And I was like, “Uh oh.” I said, “What are you going to use?”
He goes, “We’ve got this.” And he had an office staple gun. And I mean, he put about 40 staples into my leg, and there were no painkillers, so that was fun.
Ten – Born again
Myself, Edith, William, and Wale spent the next five days under heavy bombardment in an FSA safe house. It was the most intense artillery I’d ever known. Minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day, they just bombed and hit that building. After six days, the FSA came in and said, “Paul, everything is gone.”
The water tanks on the roof had been hit, the food supplies had run out. And they said, “Whatever happens, we will take you out tonight.” They piled us into five different pickups, and throwing all caution to the wind, we just drove straight at the front line.
The Assad’s forces responded with mortars, rockets, sniper fire, and machine gun fire. And believe me, that was the trip from hell, we managed to get through. Miraculously, we made it to the tunnel, and they tied a rope around my waist and dropped me into this hole, and then they put me on the motorbike that we’d used to ferry supplies. So I thought, great, getting a lift out.
So we’re on the motorbike, going down the tunnel, and we get about three-quarters of the way down, and the motorbike stops, and I look up, and the tunnel is blocked. I thought, oh dear God, no. We got a torch, and you could just see at the very top of the blockage, they’d carved a mini tunnel about the size of someone’s head and shoulders through the blockage, and I was like, uh-oh.
So they picked me off the motorbike, and they pushed me up towards this hole. And there’s no lights. This is all in the dark. The only way I could do it was to put my hands in like that, and pull myself through this blockage.
I got about two meters in and stopped dead. What had happened is a piece of the steel reinforcing bar had gone in my leg and out the other side. And so now I was pinned inside a tunnel, in a tunnel. And they’re going, “Hurry up.”, and I’m going, “Okay.”
So I’m like that, and I know what I’ve got to do in my head. I know I have to rip that wound wide open and actually make it bigger in order to get it off this metal bar. So I gritted my teeth, bit my tongue, and spent five minutes making the hole in my leg a lot bigger.
Eventually, I did that, and I crawled another meter or so through this tunnel, in a tunnel, and I fell out the other side into a pool of mud, and I could feel the water swilling through my leg. “Whatever I say guys, put me on a piece of plastic.” And together, they carried me out. And finally, I escaped the tunnel.
For the next five days, I traveled across Syria on the back of a motorbike. They put some plasters on my leg. I don’t know what it was, but my leg was essentially hanging off. Drove across the tunnel on the back of a motorbike across Syria.
Occasionally, we stopped at farms that were friendly to the cause, but, you know, we never actually got to sleep. And against all odds, I made it to Beirut, where the British ambassador, Tom Fletcher, and his family welcomed me into their home.
Two days later, the Sunday Times arranged a medical evacuation. And I remember really clearly, I was at Beirut airport, we’d sneaked in with the SAS, and I’m on my wheelchair like that, and the British military attache walks over, and he’s like, he leans in, salutes, and in the poshest British voice, he goes, “I believe things got a little fruity out there, sir.” He was the master of British understatements.
So, I wrote this speech and rehearsed this speech in Kherson on the Ukrainian front line as the Russians were pulverizing the city. In fact, this is the first time, or second time, I’ve read it through without an explosion, so well done, Portugal. But Kherson exists in a state of terror. Where once there were 300,000 people, there are now 10,000 people, and the Russians are dismantling the city.
Every day, people crushed by the horror of war leave on the buses going out. But this is how we gather a story. It’s a long shot from grabbing a shot on a cell phone and posting it on Instagram.
We live in dangerous times where misinformation can directly affect events on the ground, and the need for objective, impartial journalism has never been greater. I think photojournalism still has the power to affect outcomes in war.
Why else would I be there?
But for a story to have true impact, you have to report from the scene, and not from a safe distance. So, once again, I’m back to shining lights in dark places, the haunts where despots and dictators like to operate. Once again, camera in hand, I’m back to peeling onions.
Welcome to 2023! The past few years have been quite an adventure. And what a story, or for most of us, a series of stories. But that tends to be the nature of life. Stories unfold. Sometimes with our direction, but often without our permission. Which would explain why so many people have recently told me that 2023 is the year they want to tell a personal story, one that can impact others, but they just don’t know where to start.
The first question that many of them ask me is: “What makes a talk memorable?” It’s not the easiest question to answer, as there are so many factors to consider when crafting and delivering a personal story. And while speaking skills are an important element, they are not the most important factors when it comes to impacting audiences. Begin your exploration here: Resonance and Relevance. Address these two words up front, in the Ideation phase.
Will the audience be interested in my topic, and will they find my message useful?
People will listen to stories that capture their attention, when it’s a subject they want to hear about. First step is to ask yourself, “Why will the audience care?”
Don’t just think about the answer. Write it down. Make a list. That means you’ll need to know your audience. And if you’re telling your story to more than one group: general audience vs. scientists vs. academics vs. students, the answers will vary. And that’s okay. It’s a great way to discover new audiences.
Once you’re satisfied that your story will resonate with your audience, and you have shifted from the Ideation to the Narration phase, the body of your story needs to be relevant. Ask yourself, “What will the audience think, feel and do after they hear your story?” Each of your Story Blocks should be selected and written to accomplish your intended goals.
Will they feel inspired, have you added to their knowledge, shifted perceptions, challenged a preconceived notion, given them a new way to see themselves or the world around them? In short, is your narrative relevant to their life? What can they take away from your story that will help them going forward?
I do hope that all of you who have an impactful story to share do exactly that in 2023. Maybe it’s a keynote speech, or a talk on a TEDx stage, or maybe it’s for a local community group or at a breakfast meeting. Don’t worry about the size of the audience, as touching a single person is valuable. You never know how the impact will ripple out and touch others.
So if you have a personal story to tell, and need a bit of guidance along the way, send me a message and we’ll set up a complementary call to discuss your needs. I’ve coached hundreds of storytellers, from scientists to engineers, students and academics, creatives and business leaders, special forces and prison inmates.
Know that your story is important, and that it can change the world!
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AI, Information Networks, and Stories: Insights from Nexus, the latest book by Yuval Noah Harari
/in AI, Artificial Intelligence, History, Humanity, Science, Storytelling/by Mark LovettNote: comments not attributed to the author constitute my personal opinions.
You may be familiar with Yuval Noah Harari, the author of the global bestseller, Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind. Yuval has a way of taking very complex subjects, such as the history of humans, and presenting important highlights, digestible summations, and tangible examples to illustrate his personal views. This time he’s examining how human history has been shaped by information networks, including its most recent incarnation as artificial intelligence (AI) in Nexus: A Brief History of Information Networks from the Stone Age to AI.
In Nexus, Yuval leads us on a recap of human history (sounds familiar), but this time as a way to view our common journey on this planet in the context of how human networks and information networks evolved in tandem.
It was interesting to consider the evolution of cultures from the perspective of how human networks evolved in parallel with information networks. With oral cultures, “…realities were created by telling a story that many people repeated with their mouths and remembered in their brains.” Before the advent of any writing system, personal storytelling was our exclusive information network.
Image by Franz Bachinger from Pixabay
Similar to how humans act in the modern world, prehistoric humans told each other stories on a daily basis. Many were soon forgotten, but sometimes they were committed to memory. Stories deemed to be important were retold as a way to spread their message, or shared with future generations as a way to enshrine their culture.
But we must also remember that the retelling of any story will introduce some inaccuracies, so in a sense, stories are living entities that, over time, stray from the truth. And beyond the changes that happen to stories unintentionally with retelling, at some point in time, humans figured out how to tell outright lies.
So our information networks have never been completely accurate, but with the advent of writing systems, it was possible to capture a version of the story, such that many people could read the same words. Once again, there was no way to know if what was written was true, leaving humans left to wonder whether any written document was accurate, or was simply preserving another falsehood. Regardless, it was common for the written word to be widely adopted as true. Government decrees and religious texts being two common examples.
Writing, once performed by hand, was revolutionized by the printing press, then electrified by technology as information was transmitted on radio and television. The birth of the internet allowed us to transfer files and even send emails, while the inception of the world wide web allowed us to be publishers, and for a brief moment, it felt as though personal storytelling — the first information network — was having a renaissance of sorts. Once again, however, the powers that be — both political and corporate — came to control a large portion of the digital landscape, thus shaping the flow of information, both true and false.
Thus it follows that human networks can become ill when they buy into the disinformation promoted by ill-intended information networks. Communist / fascist / marxist / stalinist governments are prime examples. And though the western world has long felt immune to such a fate, disinformation networks, increasingly powered by AI, are active at this very moment, with the intent of dismantling democracy.
Artificial intelligence is often seen as just another technological upgrade, but it’s fundamentally different. To date, the stories we share, whether they are true or false, or intended to do good or cause harm, were created and disseminated by humans. With AI, we must now confront the fact that “nonhuman intelligence” has that same capability. Are we ready for nonhuman wisdom?
Pause for a moment and consider that concept. Rather than only consuming our information in order to paraphrase its meaning, AI creating content on its own is akin to it being a nonhuman storyteller. I’m not sure where this capability will go, but I fail to see the upside. As AI can’t experience anything in the real world, how will it craft a narrative? For example, a hurricane hitting a major city will result in a great deal of information being created — facts and figures, as well as various predictions, followed by news reports, interviews, and first hand accounts. Only humans will be able to tell those stories, right? Or will AI be able to generate its own version of what is happening? And how will we know the difference?
Image by Guilherme Christmann from Pexels
More than ever, the personal stories we share are of vital importance. The only way that positive change has ever occurred is by sharing our thoughts, feelings, and experiences. But with AI, is our birthright of being the sole source of stories at risk? For me, that question was top of mind after reading Nexus.
We’ve already seen cases where AI was used by humans to influence elections and stoke hatred between different cultures. What will happen if humans are removed from the equation altogether? It may be a long shot, but I’m thinking we need to create as many true, personal stories as we can for AI to consume. My hope is that in doing so, we can inject AI with a sense of human empathy, morality, compassion and respect.
contact me to discuss your storytelling goals!
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Justin Black: The Story Statistics Don’t Tell @ TEDxFolsom
/in Education, Family, Personal Stories, Society, TEDx, Trauma/by Mark LovettThe most impactful TEDx Talks are those which can alter our perspective on a subject of consequence. Sometimes that means clarifying the nature of a critical problem, or framing it in a way that adds relevance to our lives. Even though we were already aware of the situation, we now see it in a different light. In some instances, however, a speaker will introduce us to a topic we were not aware of before, or use a term that we’re unfamiliar with to describe an issue.
This was the case for me when Justin Black began describing his experience with inherited trauma. I’ve worked with a number of speakers whose childhood was affected by traumatic family situations, and our conversations included their relationship with family members, but I hadn’t thought of their experiences from a standpoint of inheritance. Justin’s talk at TEDxFolsom altered my perspective.
Although the experiences of our youth impact us, often times negatively, we have the option of acting differently in adulthood, and thus, prevent the next generation from going down a similar path. But it requires awareness of these impacts, and a commitment to make conscious decisions that will create a better future, and as Justin demostrates, it’s possible.
As you watch his talk, take note of how Justin explains the issue in a number of ways: describing his experiences (both while growing up and later as an adult) meeting the woman who he would later marry and become parents with, and providing details on the ACES Assessment. At times his talk is painful, while at other times joyful. A key element that makes the narrative flow, is his use of humor.
There’s a transcript of his talk below, and I invite you to give it a read, as you’ll come to see how Justin structured his talk and transitioned from one story element to the next.
If you want to know more about the journey that Justin and Alexis have been on, as they help the world redefine what normal looks like I highly recommend reading their book, Redefining Normal.
Transcript
July 11, 2016, a day I would never forget, in the week that changed my life forever. I was a freshman at Western Michigan University, starting an orientation week at my scholarship program. And on the first day of orientation, I walked into a busy room filled with conversation. As a nervous freshman, I tried to find a table with the least amount of people, farthest in the back.
I came across a table with three students, and one student in particular, told me all about her summer of studying abroad in South Africa. I mean, from bungee jumping, shark cage diving, sky diving, even getting four tattoos while there. And then, it was my turn to tell her about my amazing summer, as a waiter at TGI Fridays.
But all in all, college for me was an opportunity to have a fresh start. Not a fresh start that showcased my authenticity, but pretty much the opposite. For me, I wanted to bury the memories of being the kid who didn’t have heat on Christmas morning. I wanted to bury the memories of being the kid who had his water cut off at various times of the year. And I wanted to bury the memories of being the kid who literally had to fight in school just to gain respect.
So college for me was an opportunity to hit the reset button and actually put on a mask. But Thursday, that Thursday, I felt exposed. Our first activity that Thursday consisted of two presenters passing out note cards to each student in our cohort. And with these note cards, they asked us to write something down that we had been through that no one would know by looking at us.
And not only that, pass those note cards to the front of the room to be read aloud anonymously. I mean, here I am, trying to run away from my past, and here it is right in front of me again. But the stories of triumph, the stories of overcoming that I heard from my fellow cohort members, it gave me a sense of truth and a spirit of authenticity.
And then it finally hit me. It finally hit me. I was reminded of why we were all together in that room, why each and every one of us sat in the seat that day. The truth was that this was a program for foster youth in higher education. Each and every one of us was working to defy the odds, to join a 3% of foster youth to graduate from college. Each and every one of us, as former foster youth, was working to overcome generational burdens, many of us generational traumas, from four to five generations maybe, that we didn’t choose, we didn’t want to accept, but it was put on us to overcome.
And it’s safe to say that after that activity, my conversations for the rest of the week were less casual and more authentic. So the girl with the tattoos and I, we went for a walk that evening around campus. We ended our night in the lawn of our dormitory, watching the moon peek above the buildings on campus. While laying in the grass, we started to share what led us to this point in life.
What had us join this program, and even telling stories of some of our traumatic experiences. As she began to share, I remember noticing which note card was hers. She looked down in the grass with her eyes filled with tears. And she began to share with me that both her mother and her grandmother were victims of suicide.
I grabbed her hand to affirm how she felt in that moment. Then I begin to share my story. That there were two generations of drug abuse on my mom’s side of the family, and three generations of domestic violence on my dad’s side of the family. And these, everyone, these are the examples of the invisible burdens that many of us are carrying around.
While you may not have gone through what I’ve experienced or gone through what she’s experienced, each and every one of us, each and every one of us have things in our past, a family history, and many of us have traumas that we are working to overcome. These are what I would like to call inherited traumas.
Inherited traumas being generational traumas that are normalized by the previous generation, maybe your parents, maybe your grandparents. Generational traumas normalized by the previous generation and passed down to you, maybe as a part of your identity, maybe even a part of a cultural standard, but ultimately normalized in your lifetime and passed down to you.
Now, four years from that moment of laying in the grass and the greatest year of all of our lives, it’s 2020, right? Hopefully not reminiscing about it, don’t think about it, it’s okay, it’s all right, I won’t take you back. But four years from that moment, I was blessed to have the girl that I met during the orientation week become my wife.
And while marriage has been amazing, it’s been such a blessing, we had to be intentional about our past, that our past doesn’t influence our future in a relationship that we have today. But the question I have for you all, the question I want you to think about as you leave here today, is how long will we allow inherited trauma to impact who we are today?
How long will we allow inherited trauma to impact the relationship that we form? And how long will we allow inherited trauma to impact the future of our families? Now, before we were married, while we were still dating, we took an exam called the ACES Assessment. By show of fans, how many of you have heard of the ACES Assessment? How many of you have taken the ACES Assessment? Quite a few people.
ACES stands for Adverse Childhood Experiences. It’s one of the greatest predictors of our future outcomes. It assesses child abuse and childhood experiences as a public health problem. Based on your social and economic status, of where you work, live, play, and learn, some of us may have experienced more ACEs, or traumatic experiences than others. The ACEs Assessment is on a scale of one to ten. With one being the least amount of traumatic experiences, and ten being the most amount of traumatic experiences.
While we knew we had some things in our past we needed to work out and deal with, we were completely unaware of the score we would receive. And for me, while I took the ACES exam, I remember going question after question, marking a yes, and then another yes, and then another yes. And then, as heartbreaking as it was, we received our score. I had a score of a nine, and my wife had a score of a ten. The two highest scores you can receive on the exam. I guess for me on the bright side, this is one of the exams in my life where I did have a high score, so I was pretty happy about that. I’m like, hey, let’s celebrate that, you know?
But honestly, what’s the story behind the numbers? You see, two-thirds of participants have at least one or more ACE on the assessment. While one in five participants score at least a three or higher on the assessment. But let’s take it a step further. Taking it a step further, we have the different categories of ACEs. These categories of ACEs consist of abuse, neglect, and household dysfunction. These are the categories in which the assessment is based off of.
But let’s take it a step further. A step further than the numbers, and a step further than the categories themselves. I would like to highlight the iceberg. We see the tip of the iceberg is what we would like to show to the outside world; our actions, our behaviors, and for me for a long time, my accomplishments. The things we would like to highlight or showcase to the outside world.
But what’s underneath the tip of the iceberg? What’s underneath the tip of the iceberg, a lot of times is our traumas, our ACEs, our family histories, and maybe for you it’s something that many of us, that we’ve written down in a note cart that people would know about us, and something we have yet to deal with. And if we haven’t dealt with what’s underneath the tip of the iceberg, if we haven’t dealt with that yet, and it goes unaddressed, and it goes unresolved, it can easily become a part of our inherited trauma.
And then it doesn’t just become an inheritance just to you, it becomes an inheritance also for your children as well. And speaking of children, my wife and I wanted to wait at least four to five years before having children once we were married. But 2022 came rolling around, and one day she told me that her body starts to feel a bit different, and many of you know exactly what that means. So we decided to take a pregnancy test, and we saw two red lines. Two red lines that changed our life forever.
After a few Google searches, not knowing exactly what that meant, shocked, confused, we took five more pregnancy tests. We had to be sure. But August 2022 came, and we had our baby girl. And while being a parent has been such an eye-opener, has been incredible, has been amazing, I still have this sense of fear in my heart that, what if my generational trauma, what if my inherited trauma, the things that have been normalized for me as a child -the abuse, the neglect, the household dysfunction – what if what’s been normalized to me, becomes normal to her? What if my inherited trauma becomes an inheritance to her?
You see, all of our children are looking at us to lead them, to guide them, and to create the example for them, and looking at us to create their normal. But what happens when generational trauma becomes our normal? You see, when generational trauma becomes normalized, it turns into violence ripping apart families and communities. When generational trauma becomes normalized, it turns into substance abuse tearing apart entire family’s neighborhoods. And when generational trauma is normalized, it leaves nine-year-old boys like me, joining nearly half a million kids, a part of the foster care system in America.
So what do we do? How do we redefine the normal? How do we redefine the normal for ourselves, for families, and communities, and those around us? You see, if you were to draw a circle of 0.6 mile radius around a child’s home, you will be able to predict their future outcomes. Based on your environment, their education, neighborhood, and most importantly, parental influence. Yes, I believe that parental influence is the game changer. Of how we love, lead, and guide the next generation can make a world of difference.
In fact, studies showed that kids who grew up in a two-parent household are 40% more likely to graduate from college. And that’s just one aspect of parental influence. But all of us in this room, we play different roles. Some of you may currently be parents. Others may be parents down the line. And many of us know someone who’s raising a child.
So what are some simple but impactful things that we can do to make a world of difference for the society around us? Number one, the number one thing I believe we can do, is have a vision for our relationship, a vision for our relationship that consists of challenging one another to be a better version of ourselves.
Maybe it looks like you taking the ACES Assessment before you join together in a relationship. Maybe that looks like you going home, digging through your drawers, finding a note card, and writing something down that you’ve been through that people wouldn’t know by looking at you. And asking yourself, have you dealt with what’s on that note card?
The number two thing I would say, the number two thing we can do to redefine a normal is invest in the future of our children. Invest in the future of our children. While financial investment is amazing, it’s important, it’s incredible, I love it. But even more important, and even more impactful is investing in our children. What it looks like, is making sure that they can grow up and be loving and caring parents themselves, making sure that they become loving and caring parents themselves. But also being aware that we need to raise our children, knowing that how we treat them today, would be the same way they treat others when they become an adult.
And last but not least, easily most importantly, as a wise and amazing man once said, is to love your neighbor as you love yourself. While many of us play different roles, not all of us will be parents, but we can be amazing tutors, we can be incredible mentors, and we can all be loving neighbors. And as stated by Josh Ship, “Every child is one caring adult away from being a success story.”
So how can you be that caring adult? How can you redefine a normal? You must become intentional with the relationships that you form. You must invest in the future of our children. And simply, what you can do, is be one caring adult. Not only just working to help someone beat the odds, but change the odds for families and communities for generations and generations to come.
Thank you.
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Olivia Remes: How to cope with anxiety @ TEDxUHasselt
/in Biology, Health, Mental Health, TEDx/by Mark LovettWhile mental health was once a topic rarely talked about in public, thankfully the stigma continues to fade away and issues are now discussed more often in forums such as TED/TEDx events. In her talk at TEDxUHasselt, Olivia Remes gives the audience a few tips on how to cope with anxiety. We’ve all felt anxious at some point in our life – most likely, many times – but in these cases the feeling goes away once the situation that caused our anxiety has passed. On the other hand, anxiety disorders are of a more serious nature.
Olivia is primarily talking about those people affected by anxiety disorders, but the techniques that she presents have much broader application. Watch her talk, then come back to review her transcript, as well as the comments I’ve made. Notice how she begins with a story, then moves to an explanation of the topic, before shifting to the suggestions regarding how to deal with anxiety.
Transcript (my notes in red)
Olivia invites the audience into a pair of situations that may be familiar to a lot of people.
Imagine that you’re getting ready to go to a party. You feel excited, but also nervous, and you’ve got this feeling in your stomach almost like another heartbeat.
There’s something holding you back, holding you back from getting too happy. “No, you mustn’t get too happy. Better to be cautious, otherwise, something bad might happen.” You start wondering, “Who should I talk to when I get there? What if no one wants to talk to me? What if they’ll think I’m weird?”
When you arrive at the party, someone comes up to you and starts talking with you, and as this is happening, your mind starts racing, your heart begins pounding, you start sweating, and it feels almost like you’re dissociating from yourself, like it’s an out-of-body experience, and you’re just watching yourself talk.
“Keep it together,” you say to yourself, but you can’t, and it’s just getting worse. After a few minutes of conversation, the person you’ve been speaking to leaves, and you feel utterly defeated. This has been happening to you in social situations for a long time.
Or imagine that every time you go out, and you’re in crowded places, you feel this panic starting to arise. When you’re surrounded by lots of people, like on a bus, you start to feel hot, nauseous, uneasy, and to prevent this from happening, you start avoiding a lot of places which makes you feel lonely and isolated.
You or the person in both of these scenarios have anxiety disorders. And what I can tell you is that anxiety is very common, much more than people think. Right now, one in 14 people around the world have an anxiety disorder, and each year, it costs over 42 billion dollars to treat this mental health problem. To show you the impacts that anxiety has on someone’s life, I will just mention that anxiety can lead to depression, school dropout, suicide.
There are a few ways to quote statistics, and in this case, Olivia decided to say, “one in 14 people”. That calculates to 7.1%, and she could have decided to quote that statistic instead. Is one or the other easier for you to understand? Is one way more impactful than the other?
It makes it harder to focus, and to hold down a job, and it can lead to relationship breakdown. But a lot of people don’t know this. That’s why, a lot of times, people sweep anxiety under the rug, as just nerves that you need to get over, as a weakness. But anxiety is so much more than that. A reason why so many people don’t think it’s important is that they don’t know what it is. Is it your personality? Is it an illness? Is it a normal sensation? What is?
That’s why it’s important to differentiate what is normal anxiety, from what is an anxiety disorder. Normal anxiety is an emotion that we all get when we’re in stressful situations. For example, let’s say, you’re out in the woods, and you come face-to-face with a bear. This will probably make you feel a little bit anxious, and you’ll probably want to start running like crazy. This anxious feeling that you get is good because it protects you, it saves you, and it makes you want to hightail it out of there, although maybe it’s not such a good idea to start running when you see a bear. I really don’t think you can outrun a bear.
Anxiety helps us meet our deadlines at work and deal with emergencies in life, but when this anxiety emotion is taken to the extreme, and arises in situations which don’t pose a real threat, then that’s when you might have an anxiety disorder.
For example, people with generalized anxiety disorder worry excessively and constantly about everything going on in their lives, and they find it very difficult to control this worry. They also have symptoms like restlessness, fear, they find it hard to fall asleep at night, and they can’t concentrate on tasks.
It’s often the case that when presenting a scientific topic to the public they will only have a general, and sometimes minimal, level of knowledge about it. In this situation, there’s not only a need to describe anxiety disorder, but to differentiate it from our normal anxious reaction to a specific situation. If you’re story involves a technical or complex subject, not just those based in science, think about how you can explain the topic clearly to an audience in a short period of time.
In spite of whatever kind of anxiety you might be suffering from, there is something that you can do to lower it. It works, and it’s simpler than you may think. All too often, we’re given medication for mental disorders, but it doesn’t always work in the long run. Symptoms often come back, and you’re back to where you started.
So here’s something else to consider. The way you cope or handle things has a direct impact on how much anxiety you’re experiencing, and if you tweak the way you’re coping, then you can lower your anxiety. In our study at the University of Cambridge, we showed that women living in poor areas have a higher risk for anxiety than women living in richer areas. These results didn’t surprise us, but when we looked closer, we found that women living in poor areas, if they had a particular set of coping resources, they didn’t have anxiety, while women living in poor areas without these coping resources had anxiety.
When addressing topics involving health, it’s important to back up your recommendations with research – studies, experiments, clinical trials, etc. In this talk, I would have preferred that Olivia provide some details regarding the study she mentions. How many people were studied? Over what period of time? How was the study conducted? This could be done in a couple of sentences and would create a stronger foundation for her story, in my opinion.
Other studies showed that people who had faced extreme circumstances, who had faced adversity, been through wars and natural disasters, if they had coping resources, they remained healthy and free of mental disorders, while others, facing the same hardships but without coping skills went on a downward spiral and developed mental disorders.
Beyond the examples given in the opening of the talk, this represents an important addition. Wars and natural disasters happen in many countries, and the effects on those who live through them can be serious. Considering the current state of the world, she could have added climate change to the list, as it will affect everyone.
So, what are some of these coping resources, and how can we use them to lower our anxiety?And before I dive into what they are, I’d like to point out – and I think this is so interesting – you can develop these coping resources or coping skills on your own through the things that you do; you can take charge of your anxiety and lower it, which I think is so empowering.
This is where the story pivots from explaining the problem, to presenting the solution. By also mentioning that people can utilize the coping resources on their own, Olivia captures our attention, as we now know that something tangible is coming up. The essence of any impactful talk is how the audience will benefit from the message.
Today I’ll be talking about three coping resources, and the first one is feeling like you’re in control of your life. People who feel like they’re more in control of their life have better mental health. If you feel like you’re lacking in control in life, then research shows that you should engage in experiences that give you greater control. I’ll show you what I mean.
Do you sometimes find that you put off starting something because you just don’t feel ready enough? Do you find it hard to make decisions, like what to wear, what to eat, who to date, which job to take up? Do you tend to waste a lot of time deciding what you might do while nothing gets done?
A way to overcome indecision and this lack of control in life, is to do it badly. There’s a quote by writer and poet GK Chesterton that says, “Anything worth doing, is worth doing badly the first time.” The reason why this works so well is that it speeds up your decision-making and catapults you straight into action, otherwise, you can spend hours deciding how you should go about doing something, or what you should do.
This can be paralyzing and can make you afraid to even begin. All too often, we aim for perfection, but never end up doing anything because the standards that we set for ourselves are too high, they’re intimidating, which stresses us out, so we delay starting something, or we might even abandon the whole thing altogether. Do it badly frees you up to take action.
I mean, you know how it is. So often, we want to do something perfectly. We can’t start until it’s the perfect time, until we’ve got all the skills. But this can be daunting and stressful, so why not just jump into it, just do it however, without worrying if it’s good or bad? This will make it that much easier to start something, and as you’re doing it badly to finish it, and when you look back, you’ll realize, more often than not, that actually, it’s not that bad.
A close friend of mine who has anxiety started using this motto, and this is what she said, “When I started using this motto, my life transformed. I found I could complete tasks in much shorter time periods than before. Do it badly gave me wings to take risks, to try something differently, and to have way more fun during the whole process. It took the anxiety out of everything and replaced it with excitement.” So do it badly, and you can improve as you go along. I’d like to ask you to think about this. If you start using this motto today, how would your life change?
Olivia explains her first coping technique – do it badly – in a simple, straight forward fashion, and also tells a story about someone who actually tried it. I would have framed this example by stating that there are times when the technique is not appropriate – when doing something badly can be dangerous, to yourself or others. There are times when we should wait until our skill level is adequate. If your story contains recommendations, consider whether a caveat needs to be included.
The second coping strategy is to forgive yourself, and this is very powerful if you use it. People with anxiety think a lot about what they’re doing wrong, their worries, and how bad they’re feeling. Imagine if you had a friend who constantly pointed out everything that you’re doing wrong, and everything that was wrong with your life. You would probably want to get rid of this person right away, wouldn’t you? Well, people with anxiety do this to themselves all day long. They’re not kind to themselves.
So maybe it’s time to start being kinder with ourselves, time to start supporting ourselves. And a way to do this, is to forgive yourself for any mistakes you think you might have made just a few moments ago, to mistakes made in the past. If you had a panic attack and are embarrassed about it, forgive yourself. If you wanted to talk to someone, but couldn’t muster up the courage to do so, don’t worry about it, let it go. Forgive yourself for anything and everything, and this will give you greater compassion towards yourself. You can’t begin to heal until you do this.
And last, but not least, having a purpose and meaning in life is a very important coping mechanism. Whatever we do in life, whatever work we produce, however much money we make, we cannot be fully happy until we know that someone else needs us. That someone else depends on our accomplishments, or on the love that we have to share. It’s not that we need other people’s good words to keep going in life, but if we don’t do something with someone else in mind, then we’re at much higher risk for poor mental health.
The famous neurologist Dr. Victor Frankel said, “For people who think there’s nothing to live for, and nothing more to expect from life, the question is getting these people to realize that life is still expecting something from them.”
Doing something with someone else in mind can carry you through the toughest times. You’ll know the why for your existence and will be able to bear almost any how. Almost any how. So the question is, do you do at least one thing with someone else in mind? This could be volunteering, or it could be sharing this knowledge that you gained today with other people, especially those who need it most, and these are often the people who don’t have money for therapy, and they’re usually the ones with the highest rates of anxiety disorders. Give it to them, share with others, because it can really improve your mental health.
Olivia’s second and third coping resources – regarding self forgiveness and having purpose – are topics that could be the basis of their own talk, but once again, she presents them in an easy and accessible fashion. The audience now has three techniques that they can practice on their own. Should she have also mentioned that anyone experiencing more serious issues should seek out professional help? Are the ideas you present applicable in any situation, or are there limits?
So I would like to conclude with this. Another way you can do something with someone else in mind is finishing work that might benefit future generations. Even if these people will never realize what you’ve done for them, it doesn’t matter, because you will know, and this will make you realize the uniqueness and importance of your life.
One the one hand, I appreciate the message that Olivia ends with – realizing the importance of our life by serving others – that’s very powerful, but it’s basically an extension of her third technique. It’s not a summation of the stories central theme of coping with anxiety. For me, it’s missing that wrap-up.
Thank you.
[Note: all comments inserted into this transcript are my opinions, not those of the speaker, the TED organization, nor anyone else on the planet. In my view, each story is unique, as is every interpretation of that story. The sole purpose of these analytical posts is to inspire a storyteller to become a storylistener, and in doing so, make their stories more impactful.]
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Paul Conroy: The Faces of War: A Glimpse Through Photojournalism @ TEDxLisboa
/in Humanity, Journalism, Politics, TEDx, Warfare/by Mark LovettJournalism—the practice of reporting on events, people and facts—is a powerful method of storytelling. The (unbiased) goal is to tell us what happened, where it happened, who was involved, and what they said. When it’s done well, there’s an opportunity for us to see the world around us through a slightly different lens.
Journalists often develop their stories in a secondhand fashion with information from outside sources. But the most impactful reporting happens on site, inside the action as it’s taking place. Not only is there a story about the events, people, and facts, there’s a second story unfolding at the same time. It’s the journalist’s personal story. A narrative which reveals what’s happening to them, as well as what they’re thinking and feeling.
This is especially true for photojournalists who work in conflict zones. A soldier engaged in battle will have some degree of agency, but anyone with a camera instead of a weapon does not possess that advantage.
As a curator and advisor for TEDxLisboa 2023, I had the honor of working with award-winning photojournalist Paul Conroy on his talk. While most speakers I work with are sitting in a safe place—at their office or home—Paul was on the front lines in Ukraine, in a city that was being bombarded by Russian forces.
Whenever we spoke Paul’s face was lit only by the glow from his laptop screen.
He took a short break from the front lines to give this talk, but he’s now back in Ukraine. His talk is not about the conflict he’s covering today—he’ll need to give that talk one day—but rather about his harrowing adventure while in Syria with Marie Colvin. Her passion for telling stories of warfare ended up costing her life. It was Paul’s honor to tell the world this story.
To get the full picture of Paul’s experience in Syria with Marie, I recommend reading his book, Under the Wire.
The full story would take many, many hours to tell, but Paul masterfully crafted a narrative that spans less than 20 minutes, yet takes you on a journey to hell and back. He choose to reveal the story in ten steps, and he calls out each one along the way. Unusual for a TEDx Talk, but I found it to be an effective way of pacing the story.
Transcript
One – Assignment
Home for me in 2012 was a 17th century cottage set in the Devon countryside. I’d been in Libya for a year covering the revolution with my dear colleague Marie Colvin of the Sunday Times. I’d met Marie in Syria in 2003 when we were both trying to break into Iraq illegally, and we’ve been best friends ever since then.
The piece of my Sunday afternoon was broken with a call from the Sunday Times picture desk. “Paul, we need you to go into Syria, meet Marie in Beirut,” said Andrew.
Trouble had been brewing in Syria since the start of the Arab Spring, but now Assad was shooting protesters in the streets. By midnight that night I was at Heathrow Airport, shoving 20,000 pounds down my boots, in my jacket. There was a limit of 10,000, and I just hadn’t read the paper.
So the next day I met up in Beirut with Marie and we started planning our trip into Homs. We knew the city was under siege. We’d been watching it streamed on the internet, and the journalists coming out were telling us it’s too much, it’s over for us. And Marie just laughed, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “It’s what we do.”
She’d once given a speech where she said we were there to bear witness, and she used the analogy that getting to the heart of any story was like peeling back the layers of an onion, and when you got to the core of the onion, that was the story, that was where you needed to be.
Two – Beirut, meeting the smugglers
We spent a few weeks in Beirut meeting up with representatives of the Free Syrian Army. They were the armed group opposing Assad, and they finally gave us a location and a time, and we had to meet up with a guy called ‘Beardy Man’, that was his name.
Two o’clock the next day in Starbucks we sat opposite Beardy Man and two other guys, and he has got a big beard, and he’s got his laptop out and he’s assessing us. By assessing, I mean he’s Googling us, reading Marie’s stories and looking at my pictures. And after a while he just leans back, gives a thumbs up, and goes, “You’re in.” We’d passed the Beardy Man test.
Three – The journey to the mountains
On a cold chilly morning in February the Free Syrian Army loaded us in to a rickety old van with other people, fare-paying passengers, and we began the drive north to Syria.
We were going in illegally. We had no visas. We’d both been banned from Syria years ago so it was hopeless. But our fixer, Lena, had been told by Lebanese intelligence in Beirut that any journalists found in the vicinity of Homs were to be executed, and their bodies were to be thrown onto the battlefield.
As we neared the mountains, a sense of doom kind of settled on both of us. We could hear explosions in the distance, and we knew too well that them explosions, the source of them explosions, were where we were headed, Syria.
Four – Crossing the border
We waited for hours in what was little more than a shepherd’s hut while the Free Syrian Army fed us big bowls of meat stew, which we sat there eating. Eventually at midnight they called us outside. “Stay close,” warned a shadowy figure, there are many soldiers.
So we spent the next hour tiptoeing through a deserted village, a minefield, around these army checkpoints, and all the time following the only visible sign of our guide, which was his white training shoes in the night. And as we skirted the army checkpoints, occasional shots rang out, but after an hour we were in Syria, we’d made it in.
Five – The road to Al Bueda
We travelled by car, van, motorbike, avoiding regime and Hezbollah checkpoints. It took about three days to travel 30 kilometers, as all the time the Syrian army hunted the press and the journalists with the same murderous intent. The regime were everywhere in Syria, there were no safe spaces.
Army vehicles patrolled the roads, and the checkpoints were random and often. Progress was painfully slow. We never undressed, we never took off our boots, and every night before we went to sleep we planned an escape route out into the olive groves.
Six – The tunnel from hell
In the middle of a cold wet field at midnight the FSA led us into a tunnel. It was actually a three foot high sewer drain, concrete, with no lights. There was very little air, and the heat build up was intense. The only way we could carry our kit was strapped to our chests, and because of the height of the tunnel we kind of had to walk bent double.
As we progressed down the tunnel we were passing people evacuating the wounded and the dying. This tunnel was a lifeline to Baba Amr, a small sunny neighborhood in Homs that was considered the beating heart of the revolution.
Everything came through this tunnel, some of it on the back of a motorcycle that burnt up precious oxygen for those on foot, and we carried on walking bent double for three miles. At the end of the tunnel they pulled us out into a warscape that was akin to one of Dante’s inner circles of hell.
As I looked around I could see the still smoldering skeletal remains of buildings, and it was all lit by the pale light of a full moon. We were driven at breakneck speed through a barrage of RPGs – that’s rocket propelled grenades – and heavy machine gun fire until we arrived drained and exhausted at the media centre.
The media centre was the source of all information coming out of Syria during the revolution. But the reality was, it was a three-story building. Inside there were twenty young Syrians, wrapped in blankets against the cold, all murmuring into Skype. The only light was the pale blue glow off their laptop screens.
Seven – The widow’s basement
While we were in Homs, we’d heard talk that there was a basement where all the women and the children who’d lost husbands and fathers were sheltered. It was one of the few shelters in Homs and it was known as The Widow’s Basement. The camera always affects people’s reactions when you pull one out, so I got Marie to go down first, and I sat at the top of the stairs with a long lens taking shots.
This picture captures exactly what Marie and I saw. This is the true face of the victims of war. This was our story. This was the core of the onion. Inside the basement one woman had given birth, but due to malnutrition she couldn’t breastfeed, so the baby was being fed on a mixture of sugar and water.
While Marie interviewed the tragic victims, I wandered round taking shots of the elderly, the children, and the dying. Wale our beloved translator, he heard of the death of one of his friends during one of Marie’s interviews, which was absolutely heartbreaking. But Marie shone. This is why we did what we did. These were the people who had the least control over their destiny in any war situation.
Eight – The field clinic
After the widow’s basement we ran to the field clinic. It was the run of death. Explosions ripped up the tarmac behind us as Assad’s gunners fired round after round of rocket and artillery fire. We arrived at the basement, ears ringing, nerves shredded, and they dragged us into the doorway.
We were greeted by Dr. Mohammed and a scene of absolute carnage. The dead and the dying filled up every gurney, every bed. The floor was awash with blood, and the medical staff dragged and stacked bodies anywhere they could find the space. They worked with first aid kits. There were no CT scanners or x-ray machines, just bandages and plasters of Paris. It was actually one of the worst places I’d been in any war zone.
Nine – Death and injury
On the 21st of February, both Marie and I agreed we weren’t going to get out alive, so we should do stories on BBC, CNN and Channel 4. Marie told the heartbreaking story of a young toddler who died of shrapnel wounds to the stomach, and the images went out to the world.
About midnight, not long after the interview, it was about midnight, there was a knock at the door, and I was like, “Who the hell is that?” We opened the door and there was three French journalists, Edith Bouvier, William Daniels and Remi Ochlik, and they’d just come in through the tunnel.
So the next morning, me and Marie woke up at 5am to go back to the field clinic. Before we left the building there were two almighty explosions, one 100 meters either side of the building and we waited 30 seconds, and then there were two more explosions, this time no more than 50 meters away.
I realized at that point in time what they were doing, they were bracketing, they were walking the shells in on the building. Thirty seconds later, the first shell hit the media centre. It destroyed the roof and the ceiling, and everything fell on top of us.
The second shell hit the back of the building where Marie and I had just been sleeping. That was destroyed. The third shell exploded somewhere in the building, and that filled the room with black acrid smoke and concrete dust. Seconds later, the fourth shell hit, killing Remi and Marie instantly.
I was still conscious, and I’d felt a pressure on my leg, so I leaned down to investigate, and as I touched my leg, my hand went through and came out the other side. And for a few moments I stood there wiggling my hand. I grabbed the artery inside to see if that was still intact. It was.
I grabbed the bone, that wasn’t broken, but I knew I had a few minutes to get a tourniquet on, otherwise I would bleed to death. So I grabbed the scarf from around my neck, wrapped it round, pulled it as tight as I could. But after a few minutes, I was still bleeding out.
I saw an ethernet cable in the rubble, so I grabbed that, wrapped that round, grabbed a piece of wood from the building, and pulled that as tight as I could. After about 20 minutes, the Free Syrian Army came, dragged me out of the rubble, and took me to the field clinic where Dr. Mohamed was stood there and he’s like, “Hello Paul, what’s wrong with you?”
And I’m going, “I’ve got a hole in my leg.” And he’s going, “Oh so you have.” So, Dr. Mohamed grabs a toothbrush and a bottle of iodine, and my leg is about that big, the hole, and he just pours iodine in with a toothbrush and spends 10 minutes scrubbing my leg.
And every time it nearly got clean, another shell had hit the building and concrete dust would fall in, so he’d have another go. And I was going, “Is that a toothbrush?” He’s going, “No, no, no, it’s a medical brush.” So eventually, he says, “We’ve run out of stitches.” And I was like, “Uh oh.” I said, “What are you going to use?”
He goes, “We’ve got this.” And he had an office staple gun. And I mean, he put about 40 staples into my leg, and there were no painkillers, so that was fun.
Ten – Born again
Myself, Edith, William, and Wale spent the next five days under heavy bombardment in an FSA safe house. It was the most intense artillery I’d ever known. Minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day, they just bombed and hit that building. After six days, the FSA came in and said, “Paul, everything is gone.”
The water tanks on the roof had been hit, the food supplies had run out. And they said, “Whatever happens, we will take you out tonight.” They piled us into five different pickups, and throwing all caution to the wind, we just drove straight at the front line.
The Assad’s forces responded with mortars, rockets, sniper fire, and machine gun fire. And believe me, that was the trip from hell, we managed to get through. Miraculously, we made it to the tunnel, and they tied a rope around my waist and dropped me into this hole, and then they put me on the motorbike that we’d used to ferry supplies. So I thought, great, getting a lift out.
So we’re on the motorbike, going down the tunnel, and we get about three-quarters of the way down, and the motorbike stops, and I look up, and the tunnel is blocked. I thought, oh dear God, no. We got a torch, and you could just see at the very top of the blockage, they’d carved a mini tunnel about the size of someone’s head and shoulders through the blockage, and I was like, uh-oh.
So they picked me off the motorbike, and they pushed me up towards this hole. And there’s no lights. This is all in the dark. The only way I could do it was to put my hands in like that, and pull myself through this blockage.
I got about two meters in and stopped dead. What had happened is a piece of the steel reinforcing bar had gone in my leg and out the other side. And so now I was pinned inside a tunnel, in a tunnel. And they’re going, “Hurry up.”, and I’m going, “Okay.”
So I’m like that, and I know what I’ve got to do in my head. I know I have to rip that wound wide open and actually make it bigger in order to get it off this metal bar. So I gritted my teeth, bit my tongue, and spent five minutes making the hole in my leg a lot bigger.
Eventually, I did that, and I crawled another meter or so through this tunnel, in a tunnel, and I fell out the other side into a pool of mud, and I could feel the water swilling through my leg. “Whatever I say guys, put me on a piece of plastic.” And together, they carried me out. And finally, I escaped the tunnel.
For the next five days, I traveled across Syria on the back of a motorbike. They put some plasters on my leg. I don’t know what it was, but my leg was essentially hanging off. Drove across the tunnel on the back of a motorbike across Syria.
Occasionally, we stopped at farms that were friendly to the cause, but, you know, we never actually got to sleep. And against all odds, I made it to Beirut, where the British ambassador, Tom Fletcher, and his family welcomed me into their home.
Two days later, the Sunday Times arranged a medical evacuation. And I remember really clearly, I was at Beirut airport, we’d sneaked in with the SAS, and I’m on my wheelchair like that, and the British military attache walks over, and he’s like, he leans in, salutes, and in the poshest British voice, he goes, “I believe things got a little fruity out there, sir.” He was the master of British understatements.
So, I wrote this speech and rehearsed this speech in Kherson on the Ukrainian front line as the Russians were pulverizing the city. In fact, this is the first time, or second time, I’ve read it through without an explosion, so well done, Portugal. But Kherson exists in a state of terror. Where once there were 300,000 people, there are now 10,000 people, and the Russians are dismantling the city.
Every day, people crushed by the horror of war leave on the buses going out. But this is how we gather a story. It’s a long shot from grabbing a shot on a cell phone and posting it on Instagram.
We live in dangerous times where misinformation can directly affect events on the ground, and the need for objective, impartial journalism has never been greater. I think photojournalism still has the power to affect outcomes in war.
Why else would I be there?
But for a story to have true impact, you have to report from the scene, and not from a safe distance. So, once again, I’m back to shining lights in dark places, the haunts where despots and dictators like to operate. Once again, camera in hand, I’m back to peeling onions.
Thank you.
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The Importance of Resonance and Relevance in Storytelling
/in Audience, Narrative, Personal Stories, Society, Storytelling/by Mark LovettWelcome to 2023! The past few years have been quite an adventure. And what a story, or for most of us, a series of stories. But that tends to be the nature of life. Stories unfold. Sometimes with our direction, but often without our permission. Which would explain why so many people have recently told me that 2023 is the year they want to tell a personal story, one that can impact others, but they just don’t know where to start.
The first question that many of them ask me is: “What makes a talk memorable?” It’s not the easiest question to answer, as there are so many factors to consider when crafting and delivering a personal story. And while speaking skills are an important element, they are not the most important factors when it comes to impacting audiences. Begin your exploration here: Resonance and Relevance. Address these two words up front, in the Ideation phase.
People will listen to stories that capture their attention, when it’s a subject they want to hear about. First step is to ask yourself, “Why will the audience care?”
Don’t just think about the answer. Write it down. Make a list. That means you’ll need to know your audience. And if you’re telling your story to more than one group: general audience vs. scientists vs. academics vs. students, the answers will vary. And that’s okay. It’s a great way to discover new audiences.
Once you’re satisfied that your story will resonate with your audience, and you have shifted from the Ideation to the Narration phase, the body of your story needs to be relevant. Ask yourself, “What will the audience think, feel and do after they hear your story?” Each of your Story Blocks should be selected and written to accomplish your intended goals.
Will they feel inspired, have you added to their knowledge, shifted perceptions, challenged a preconceived notion, given them a new way to see themselves or the world around them? In short, is your narrative relevant to their life? What can they take away from your story that will help them going forward?
I do hope that all of you who have an impactful story to share do exactly that in 2023. Maybe it’s a keynote speech, or a talk on a TEDx stage, or maybe it’s for a local community group or at a breakfast meeting. Don’t worry about the size of the audience, as touching a single person is valuable. You never know how the impact will ripple out and touch others.
So if you have a personal story to tell, and need a bit of guidance along the way, send me a message and we’ll set up a complementary call to discuss your needs. I’ve coached hundreds of storytellers, from scientists to engineers, students and academics, creatives and business leaders, special forces and prison inmates.
contact me to discuss your storytelling goals!
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