storytelling

Dumbing Down Star Wars in The Force Awakens

milhayser — Mon, 11 Jan 2016 13:54:31 +0000

Dumbing Down Star Wars in The Force Awakens

It was high times for the Rebel Alliance at the end of Return of the Jedi (1983). Across the galaxy, crowds rejoiced at the destruction of the second Death Star and the apparent defeat of Emperor Palpatine. Princess Leia Organa, who two films earlier had seen her home planet exploded for sport, was re-united with a twin brother she never knew she had, becoming aware of her own Force sensitivity, and in love with a swashbuckling hero who would later father her son. It was a resounding victory, and deservedly so, even if Ewoks had to help.

The Force Awakens begins thirty years later, yet reveals nothing about the consequences of the Rebellion's victory. One might think democracy was restored and the title scroll refers quickly to "THE REPUBLIC" before never mentioning it again. The original Republic, of course, existed in the time of the prequel trilogy and was transformed into the first Galactic Empire through the machinations of Palpatine, a dark lord of the Sith. But now, without any political backdrop, Leia and her band of good guys are called "The Resistance" and the masked jerks with Star Destroyers are called "The First Order." Where, exactly, is the New Republic in all this? We never find out.

Instead the entire film propels itself in pursuit of a particularly foolish MacGuffin (an object, for example, that everyone wants to get their hands on.) This is a common technique in action films and was used in A New Hope (1977) as the Empire tries to recover stolen Death Star plans. In The Force Awakens, the object everyone desires is a map to Luke Skywalker, who has gone into hiding because he messed up as a Jedi Master and created a pitiful gothic monster in the form of his nephew, Kylo Ren. The whole idea of following a map across the galaxy in order to find a planet is embarrassing—space is 3-D and wide open; all ones needs are coordinates. Instead we are shown a meandering orange trail that stretches for tens of thousands of light-years. What if you're coming from a different direction? I don't know, fly casual?

Luke is only in the film for about a minute, and he has no dialogue. The MacGuffin, despite being relied upon throughout the entire film, is only a tease. Where else can we look for an actual story? There is Leia, who is now a General with the Resistance. Her situation must be painfully tragic. Not only is she a woman without a home or a family, but the rebellion she led so fiercely has failed to change much at all. She seems not to have been trained in the Force, and she is separated from Han Solo, who cruises the galaxy with his Wookiee bro looking for their junky old spaceship. Leia and Han's son, Kylo Ren, has run away to apprentice for an evil mastermind and wants to murder Leia's brother. And yet the film doesn't explore Leia's potential pathos at all. It mostly places her in the background. Although, for Leia, the worst is yet to come.

Han Solo's Death Wish

Harrison Ford was ready for Han Solo to die in Return of the Jedi, although he didn't get his wish. He was tired of his character and maybe George Lucas as well; it's probably only because of the latter's departure (and Disney's deep pockets) that Ford reprised the role at all. Still, he was only in it for a last hurrah, and so Disney needed to kill off his character. Han Solo was always a cagey, wily, brave and lucky bastard; despite what George Lucas later revised, Han did shoot first, because he knew if he didn't, Greedo would fry his ass. Han Solo is nobody's fool, and neither is his brother-in-arms Chewbacca, who hardly even loses at chess.

Yet Han's death in the film is hard to understand. After many years he has been reunited with the Millennium Falcon, he has seen Leia again and they agree that he should ask young Kylo to come home. So Han flies to Starkiller base, where Ren likes to brood, and confronts him. Han walks out onto the longest, narrowest, most railing-less, most pointless catwalk in the galaxy, above an abyss that is undoubtedly bottomless. He says, kiddo, please, let me help you? And Kylo agrees by switching on his lightsaber. These two may be father and son, but could Han really be so credulous, so naive, have such a blind spot to let himself be murdered by a well-known psychotic, without even a contingency plan? To let down everyone who has ever loved him? While Han's death is the core of the film's narrative, it's also meaningless, because we know nothing about the relationship Han and Kylo once had.

Kylo Ren turns out to be a kind of metaphor for the whole movie: a clueless newcomer who idolizes the remains of Darth Vader and wants to get rid of the characters we love.

Consider also Chewbacca, who was once a rather menacing (if big-hearted) presence. In The Force Awakens he just mugs for the camera. And the droids, who George Lucas envisioned as the point of view for all of Star Wars, are likewise relegated to the sidelines; R2-D2 is asleep for most of the movie, and C-3P0 only gets in somebody's way once.

Diverse New Idols

Of course, this film is supposed to be about the new characters, not the old ones. Disney made a very clear nod to gender and racial equality in casting their lead actors. The unfortunate thing is that neither of these characters is given any substantial backstory or character development. They demonstrate no internal conflict or struggle. They experience no defeat, and little growth. It seems to be within these two that the Force has "awakened," since it gets them out of every jam with killer, invincible instinct. Rey, although she begins the film as a poor desert scavenger, is purely virtuous and physically adept from the beginning: she excels at hand-to-hand combat, won't sell out a friend for money, magically flies a spaceship for the first time, magically wields a lightsaber for the first time, etc. Her basic attribute is that she kicks ass and while that's always fun, she's little more than an totem, and therefore a stereotype. The film tells us nothing about her personal history or relationships, except that she has been waiting in the desert for someone to return.

Meanwhile Finn the black Stormtrooper begins the film by having a panic attack in battle. He witnesses his fellow Stormtrooper killed and bloodied, and refuses to fire on the enemy. He soon defects from the First Order and joins up with Rey for mindless hijinx. Finn's moment of truth is presented as a moral revelation: he realizes that killing is wrong and refuses to do so. And yet, once he joins the good guys, he has no problem turning around and shooting his former comrades. Finn says that he was kidnapped as a child and indoctrinated as a soldier all his life—presumably those other Stormtroopers were too. Finn ought to have immense sympathy for them; he should be deeply conflicted about his actions and his future. Instead, he's a happy-go-lucky blaster jockey: another totem. Both actors are partially wasted in this film because their roles are meaningless. And that is not what women or racial minorities (or anyone) needs.

Furthermore, the giftedness of these characters undermines everything the other films have taught us about the Force. These new heroes don't have to learn anything; it comes to them naturally. This is the only Star Wars film without a line of dialogue spoken by a Jedi Master. Star Wars has always been about learning and discovering the difference between dark and light, but here that sense of erudition and discovery is wholly lacking.

Um, That's Not How Starkilling Works

Even if the technology in speculative fiction is more advanced than our own, the rules of physics still usually apply. Even magic such as the Force is plausible as long as it operates according to a set of rules. But when writers make lazy shortcuts, it's hard to take their storytelling seriously.

Consider the First Order's headquarters, Starkiller Base. Although The Force Awakens is dead-set on recreating every iconic element of the original trilogy, someone in Hollywood must have thought that after two Death Stars with highly vulnerable shafts, it was time for for the First Order to up the ante. The result is Starkiller Base, an entire planet that has been hollowed out and turned into a weapon that sucks up the mass of a star and fires it across the galaxy. It basically does the same job as a Death Star, except from longer range. Honestly a Death Star would be much more economical, if only someone could design some good grates.

The first time Starkiller Base fires its weapon, we see a cinematic technique J.J. Abrams used previously in Star Trek (2009). Here, people on one planet look up in the sky just in time to see another planet destroyed, in broad daylight. And they go, OMG! Now the speed of light is not a limiting factor in the Star Wars universe; spacecraft can exceed it. But the beam fired by Starkiller Base is not traveling faster than light, and likewise appears to consist of matter rather than radiation, meaning it is traveling much slower. So how many years should it take to reach its target, if ever? And once its target is destroyed, how many years until the light from that event reaches another solar system? I don't know why Abrams insists on making galaxies feel so tiny when we know they are truly epic.

I Have a Bad Feeling About This...

In fact the whole film is an a-causal jumble of narrative serendipity: a steady stream of nostalgic, unconnected tropes that we can expect to see again and again as the franchise rolls forward. We know the Force works in mysterious ways, and so we can accept that Rey stumbles upon the Millennium Falcon sitting under a tarp, collecting dust in a junkyard on the planet where she lives. What is harder to believe is that on a world full of scavengers, she is able to walk onto the ship, power it up, and fly it away without a key. Everything is there for the characters when they need it.

Repetition of elements also defines Star Wars; George Lucas said of the prequel trilogy that it was supposed to mirror the original. Disney obviously had no problem with this concept, but rather than crafting a variation on a theme, they hack up every element from the original trilogy that they can. The Empire Strikes Back (1980) reveals a great secret: Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker's father and Leia's as well. One can expect a similar bombshell will drop in Episode VIII, and will almost certainly involve Rey and the mysterious figure she was waiting for in the desert. I wager that Rey is Luke's daughter, or Kylo's sister, or even Leia's clone. She must be a Skywalker; she appears to be more gifted than even Anakin. Her ~~midichlorian~~ count must be through the roof.

Now, like everyone else who loved Star Wars and was excited for the prequel trilogy, I was bewildered by The Phantom Menace (1999). Aliens are argue about economics, the acting is stilted, the dialogue is poorly written, the plot is inscrutable, Jar-Jar Binks tries to coin a catchphrase, and everybody dies a little inside. Attack of the Clones (2002) generates more narrative interest; Anakin is old enough to discover himself and his love for Padme; he shows flashes of the lust and rage that will ultimately lead him into desolation. And Revenge of the Sith (2005) features some truly incredible moments, as Palpatine pulls the strings of his trap together and Obi-Wan tries to convince Anakin to come back to the light. Aside from from their special effects, the prequels make for poor viewing, but underneath their obscure, indiosyncratic presentation, there is an interesting story about good and evil. The prequel trilogy burns brightly in my imagination (if not onscreen). Meanwhile, The Force Awakens is just the opposite. It is an exciting movie to watch. But it has no compelling storyline, no character development, and no moral. It's obviously a set-up for larger plot elements to follow, but still this is supposed to be cinema, not a television pilot.

They also made X-Wings uglier. Two stars.

See also: Notes on the new Star Wars Movie on Aardvarchaeology

milhayser Mon, 01/11/2016 - 08:54

Messaging study: Putting a human face on opioid addiction increases public support for naloxone

kkrisberg — Fri, 17 Jul 2015 10:39:04 +0000

Messaging study: Putting a human face on opioid addiction increases public support for naloxone

Every day in the U.S., more than 40 people die after overdosing on prescription painkillers. Deaths from a more notorious form of opiates — heroin — increased five-fold between 2001 and 2013. Addressing this problem — one that’s often described as a public health crisis — requires action on many fronts, from preventing abuse in the first place to getting those addicted into treatment. But when it comes to overdoses, there’s one answer we know works: naloxone.

Naloxone is a safe prescription medicine that’s highly effective in reversing an otherwise deadly opioid overdose. Typically, emergency first responders administer the drug; however, many state legislatures are expanding access to naloxone in the wake of the painkiller abuse epidemic. Today, according to the Network for Public Health Law, more than 40 states and Washington, D.C., allow health care providers to dispense naloxone to lay administrators, such as family and friends of those struggling with addiction and other potential bystanders to an overdose. A June report from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention cited a survey of 140 managers working within organizations that distribute naloxone kits to lay administers and which found that between 1996 and 2014, managers received reports of more than 25,400 overdose reversals.

Still, naloxone distribution, similar to other risk reduction strategies such as needle exchange, faces ideological and political challenges. Broadening naloxone access is largely dependent on policymakers who answer to constituents, and that means public support may be a key ingredient in expanding the reach and impact of the life-saving drug. In turn, Colleen Barry, an associate professor in the Department of Health Policy and Management at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, dove into the tangled web of public opinion around drug addiction to discover what types of messages could persuade people to support policies that broaden access to naloxone. And like much of public health messaging research, she and her colleagues found that storytelling is key. In other words, people respond positively when the facts and statistics are delivered with a dose of humanity.

“We’re experiencing an epidemic of prescription opioid addition and overdose in this country,” Barry told me. “Overdose deaths have quadrupled and deaths from opioids now exceed motor vehicle crashes. This has become a public health crisis. Naloxone is one of the most important public health tools to prevent overdose deaths…but at the same time, we know there are low levels of support for policies to more broadly distribute it. Our hypothesis was that there could be strategies for increasing public support that could make a difference.”

In the study, which was published earlier this month in the journal PLOS ONE, Barry and research colleagues Marcus Bachhuber, Emma McGinty, Alene Kennedy-Hendricks and Jeff Niederdeppe write:

Although data on public opinion about naloxone distribution programs are lacking, there are many potential reasons why naloxone distribution may have a low rate of public support. Stigma and negative public opinion around drug use and people who use drugs are barriers to support of a wide range of public policies such as insurance parity, housing support, and job support. More specific to naloxone distribution, lack of familiarity with naloxone, concerns about the unintended consequences of naloxone, and lack of compassion or sympathy for people who use drugs may lead to low public support. Previous research shows that public opinion is a substantial contributor to the enactment of public policy.

To conduct the messaging study, Barry and colleagues randomly surveyed nearly 1,600 adults to test the effects of three different types of messaging strategies. The first was simply providing factual information about painkiller overdoses and the safety and effectiveness of naloxone. The second approach offered information that counters two common concerns about naloxone access: that its availability will lead to more overdoses because people believe they can be rescued (note: this assumption is not supported by the data) and that people saved by naloxone will continue their drug use and overdose again (note: while addiction is a chronic illness, getting people into treatment can improve outcomes.) The third messaging strategy was a “sympathetic narrative” about a mother struggling with her daughter’s painkiller addiction and eventual fatal overdose.

Among the survey participants who received no information about naloxone, support for bystander access was pretty low: while about two-thirds supported training first responders in administering naloxone, just one-quarter supported dispensing naloxone to friends and families who might witness an overdose. Also, only about half supported laws that protect people who call for medical help in the event of an overdose, 42 percent supported the passage of laws to protect people from legal prosecution if they administer naloxone, and less than 40 percent supported increased funding for addiction screening and treatment.

But good messaging made a difference — sometimes, a big difference. Researchers found that offering just factual information about naloxone increased support for training first responders to use naloxone, providing naloxone to friends and family as well as for laws that protect those who administer naloxone. Providing just the sympathetic narrative also increased support for all three measures.

However, the biggest impact came from combining factual information with the sympathetic narrative: The combo resulted in significantly higher support for naloxone access policies when compared to survey participants who received no messaging exposure or participants who received only factual information. In fact, the messaging combination actually doubled the number of people who agreed that giving naloxone to friends and family would save lives. On an interesting note, researchers found that while providing only factual information increased support for some naloxone policies, it increased negative beliefs about naloxone at the same time.

Barry noted that researchers didn’t stratify survey participants by political ideology, and so the large shifts in support for naloxone-access policies suggest that the messaging techniques are appealing across political dimensions.

“It’s a good reminder to the policy community that people need the facts, but they also need stories about the people who benefit from these policies,” she said. “Communication is not just about the numbers and in fact, numbers can obscure the human element of many of the public health issues we grapple with in this country.”

Barry added that while the messaging study didn’t test who would be most effective in delivering the facts and stories, previous research has shown that the “messenger matters in a very powerful way.” She suggested that the persuasive power of a potential messenger is largely driven by trust. So, for example, a health care provider might be particularly well suited to delivering messages about naloxone use. However, Barry added that people who’ve experienced addiction either as an individual or through loved ones could be “extraordinarily powerful” messengers as well.

“In particular, stories from individuals who’ve successfully overcome addiction — these success stories are critical because we tend to only hear the other side,” she told me. “The challenge we face is we have increasing rates of addiction, in part driven by prescription painkiller proliferation, and we have very inadequate treatment delivery systems. …Getting out stories about people who’ve benefited from treatment and are doing better could help build public support and get more treatment to those who need it most.”

To download a full copy of the naloxone messaging study, visit PLOS ONE.

Kim Krisberg is a freelance public health writer living in Austin, Texas, and has been writing about public health for more than a decade.

kkrisberg Fri, 07/17/2015 - 06:39

Communication and education are key in the battle against opiate addiction. The message of the effectiveness of naloxone in reversing overdose needs to continue to be spread through every viable means until it is made widely available. Lives will be saved.

‘Statistics can’t tell stories’: Houston domestic workers release personal anthology

kkrisberg — Fri, 16 May 2014 15:01:50 +0000

‘Statistics can’t tell stories’: Houston domestic workers release personal anthology

Two years ago, domestic workers in Houston, Texas, took part in the first national survey documenting the conditions they face on the job. The experience — a process of shedding light on the often isolating and invisible world of domestic work — was so moving that Houston workers decided they didn’t want to stop there. Instead, they decided it was time to put their personal stories to paper.

The result is “We Women, One Woman!: A view of the lived experience of domestic workers,” which was officially released last month. The anthology features the stories of 15 nannies, house cleaners and caregivers — all are members of La Colmena (The Beehive), a domestic worker group that’s part of Houston’s Fe y Justicia Worker Center and that works to organize domestic workers and educate them on their rights. The anthology’s release follows two years of domestic workers meeting regularly to share their stories, participate in writing workshops and ultimately, use their own words to illustrate the experience of working in the largely unregulated, oversight-free workplaces that are people’s homes.

“We always talk about how there’s no statistic that can accurately capture what it’s really like,” Laura Perez-Boston, executive director of Fe y Justicia, told me. “Statistics can’t tell stories.”

The anthology’s stories, published in both English and Spanish, cover a range of topics, often exposing issues such as wage theft as well as unsafe and unfair working conditions. The women also write about their personal lives — single motherhood, poverty, immigration, leaving their native countries and families behind — and why they felt it was so important to speak out about their workplace experience. For example, Consuelo Martinez, an elder care provider, wrote in the anthology: “I’d like to express what we have to go through because for many people being a domestic worker is a job that doesn’t mean anything. …I want everyone who hears me to remember this warrior woman who helped her children get ahead in life with an honorable job and a lot of pride.” Other La Colmena members, such as Lucy Quintanar, were less personal in their narratives, instead using the opportunity to call for better working conditions and collective power.

“We need to get a union to get our rights, to make people conscious of the situation and the circumstances of this employment,” Quintanar told me. “I hope everybody reads it…I would like to let (other domestic workers) know that there’s a place called La Colmena where they can get help to learn their rights. Don't be afraid to speak out.”

One of the many handcrafted covers of the new domestic worker anthology. Photo courtesy La Colmena

Quintanar originally sought out Fe y Justicia after an employer refused to pay her wages she had earned — more commonly known as wage theft. (The National Domestic Workers Alliance survey that originally inspired the anthology found that 23 percent of domestic workers are already paid below state minimum wage.) At the time, Quintanar was working as a live-in domestic worker, taking care of children, cleaning the house and doing typical household chores. One day, her employer asked her to clean the swimming pool, which Quintanar refused to do as it wasn’t among the job duties to which she’d agreed. The employer fired her on the spot and never paid Quintanar the $450 she was owed. It was the second time an employer refused to pay her hundreds of dollars in wages that she had earned, Quintanar said.

Quintanar told me that the women of La Colmena have become like family for her.

“When you’re working, you don’t have the opportunity to have friends,” she said. “La Colmena is very important to me…I like belonging to a group. Now I can organize with other women to improve our labor conditions.”

It’s easy to see how much effort and emotion was poured into the anthology, as the women who wrote its stories also handcrafted the covers of each book. One La Colmena member fashioned tiny fabric aprons that tie around the book, while another woman used Guatemalan weaving fabric to create original covers. One worker used a picture that her daughter drew of a woman with long, dark braids hugging the Earth. All of the book covers are wrapped in a scrapbooking material printed with the shape of a honeycomb.

Mitzi Ordoñez, domestic worker organizer at Fe y Justicia, said she and the members of La Colmena hope the anthology will reach both employers as well as other domestic workers. Ordoñez said plans are in the works for a second anthology, which would focus on success stories and how domestic workers are empowering each other to fight for better conditions.

“We want to make employers aware of the true value of this work,” she told me. “Nannies and caregivers — these are jobs that make other jobs possible. For domestic workers, we want to let them know that there’s a place where they can come and they’re not alone.”

The anthology experience has put the power of storytelling front and center, Perez-Boston said. Narrative can be a strong tool for organizing and building a common identity, she noted, especially for domestic workers, who often work alone in isolated environments.

“Storytelling can help us move toward social transformation,” she told me.

The anthology’s initial publishing run of 500 copies is nearly sold out; however, more copies are expected to come out soon. To inquire about purchasing a copy, email Ordoñez at mordonez@houstonworkers.org. Click here to learn more about La Colmena and the Fe y Justicia Worker Center, and click here and here to learn more about the domestic worker survey that originally inspired the Houston anthology.

Kim Krisberg is a freelance public health writer living in Austin, Texas, and has been writing about public health for more than a decade.

kkrisberg Fri, 05/16/2014 - 11:01

Have I Got a Story for You: A Call for Public Health Storytelling

lborkowski — Thu, 21 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Have I Got a Story for You: A Call for Public Health Storytelling

By Kim Krisberg

I've had this conversation more times than I can count.

You're a reporter? What do you write about?
Public health.
(Blank stare.) Oh. What's public health? Is that like universal health care or something?

How do you describe public health? It's a tricky question. The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines public health as the "art and science dealing with the protection and improvement of community health by organized community effort and including preventive medicine and sanitary and social science." Others describe it as a profession dedicated to the prevention of disease and the promotion of healthy behaviors. I've always been partial to more social justice-inspired descriptions that mention the social determinants of health - the living conditions that affect our health, and account for many of the health disparities between different groups. (Of course, talking about the social determinants of health usually elicits more blank stares and prompts my friends to politely change the subject and remind me that this is happy hour, not a policy briefing.)

Public health's invisibility may be a testament to its success, but public health needs more than positive statistics to stay strong and, more importantly, to stay relevant to the political and social dialogue. Even as more and more of the global disease burden can be attributed to the social and environmental conditions that public health professionals are uniquely trained to confront, public health programs still end up on the budgetary chopping block, facing severe cuts and possible program eliminations.

Beyond the borders of Washington, D.C., there is no real public outcry when this happens. Not like when legislators suggest cutting education funds; the outrage from voters is loud and clear. Cutting funds from public safety efforts like police and fire? No way! No money for fixing our dilapidated roadways? You won't get my vote! Slash federal public health and local health department funding? Barely a peep.

It's baffling because strong public health systems and infrastructures are just as vital as education and public safety to our high quality of collective life. In fact, I'd argue that the history of public health accomplishments in preventing disease, improving sanitation, and creating safe workplaces helped build the very foundations from which we prosper. Not to mention that public health interventions are amazingly cost-effective when compared to treating people in clinical settings after they get sick.

So, why is there such a vacuum of public support for public health? One big reason is that public health doesn't tell its story very well. It doesn't tell its story in a way that people can relate to in personalized, identifiable ways. I would bet that the only time many people even hear about public health is in the wake of some sort of disaster or problem, like a massive food recall or a disease outbreak. And being aligned with the "disaster cycle" of news reporting is not necessarily a good thing.

Public health is a very technical field involving complex and intricate work. But at the end of the day, this work affects individual people. That's the kind of story people can relate to. These are always the stories I'm looking for as a public health reporter when I troll local health department websites, but instead I usually find long lists concerning various recalls, vaccine clinics, and advisory meetings. Don't get me wrong -- these are important. But too often, it leads people wondering: What have you done for me lately?

That's where storytelling comes in. Underneath the scientific jargon and statistics, there's almost always a story about public health improving someone's life. When you drill down to the community level -- to the neighborhood level -- there's always a story to tell; a story that resonates and that illustrates public health in action in a way that people can say "hey, that's me." Storytelling can help people better understand the role that public health plays in their lives and can help them envision the negative consequences of living without robust public health systems. Public health needs a face that doesn't wear a suit and speak at a news conference.

Putting a face on public health
For example, while I may be fascinated with an issue like environmental public health tracking, I have a feeling that most people aren't. And in a time when all government programs are looked at with suspicion, a lot of other people are probably wondering why it's worth our collective time and money. So, dig for the story. Find the story of the little girl whose asthma-related emergency room visits were cut in half because tracking air-pollution data helped her doctor create a more precise asthma management plan. Put a face to the program. Show me the value in human terms, outside the tragic setting of disaster and catastrophe.

Or how about one of public health's most prized accomplishments -- the decline in tobacco use? Now, it's true that this is one of those blurry areas -- I mean, how do you tell the personal story of the teenager who didn't start smoking? But you can tell the story of a grandfather who, after serious heart complications, reached out to his local health department and asked for help to quit smoking. Or the story of the college student who signed up for the health department's new cessation program that offers daily quitting tips via text messaging. Or the mom who decided to stop smoking after her children came home from school with educational materials on the dangers of cigarettes.

Beyond just the personal story, there are community stories. Injury prevention is a vital component of public health work, from seat belt campaigns to those that target youth dating violence. Chronicle the story of a neighborhood that mobilizes for more stop signs at a dangerous corner or a pedestrian crossing light at a busy intersection after public health statistics showed a jump in preventable injuries. Talk to the children at the local health fair that's giving out free bike helmets and ask them what they've learned about staying safe. Tell the story of the young high school student who knew where to go for help about her abusive relationship because her local health department recently held a dating violence workshop at her school.

What about the family who put together their very first emergency preparedness stockpile? Or the rural family who -- thanks to public health surveillance -- finds out their well water is being contaminated and promptly takes action to fortify their well against pollutants? Or the young mother-to-be who receives home visits from a public health nurse who teaches her about the importance of breastfeeding?

These are the faces of public health. They may be difficult to find, but it's worth the effort.

These storytelling skills are important because public health is exactly that -- public. If voters and constituents don't know what public health is or how it fits into their lives, how can we expect their elected representatives to support public health?

Collect the stories -- they'll speak for themselves.

Kim Krisberg is a freelance reporter living in Austin, Texas, and has been writing about public health for almost a decade. While her education is in journalism, her heart is in public health.

lborkowski Thu, 04/21/2011 - 04:00

Tags

Public Health - General

public health

storytelling

Kim,
Welcome to The Pump Handle! With a heart in public health, you've found a great blogging home!

Celeste

Hi Kim-
Just stumbled on this post and call about 16 months late, but I have a new blog that focuses on public health storytelling: www.isthispublichealth.blogspot.com.

A Story Told With Sand

grrlscientist — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 03:59:16 +0000

A Story Told With Sand

tags: A Story Told With Sand, art, performance art, sand animation, storytelling, wow, Kseniya Simonova, streaming video

Kseniya Simonova is a Ukrainian artist who just won Ukraine's version of "America's Got Talent." She uses a giant light box, dramatic music, imagination and "sand painting" skills to interpret Germany's invasion and occupation of Ukraine during WWII. This is the most unique piece of performance art I've ever seen.

grrlscientist Sun, 06/13/2010 - 23:59

Tags

Art

streaming videos

A Story Told With Sand

Sand painting is a stunning skill. It reminds me of those South American political painters...but it is like you are watching a documentary.

Amazing. I don't know the story at all, can't understand the words in the music, and I was getting goosebumps watching some of that. I love art that needs no explanation to move you.

Side note: It sounded to me like the violin work at the end was Metallica's Nothing Else Matters

Absolutely stunning, the message is conveyed so powerfully - I can't imagine how long it must have taken her to perfect this art.

#2: You're right about the song - it's a cover version by the 'cello metal band Apolcalyptica.

Incredible! Have seen sand sculptures but never sand painting--it really is an art.

She is very talented but as she decided to use political theme, the Great Famine, caused by the Russia communists would be more appropriate to use instead of invasion of Germany. Russian communists killed painfully 20 million Ukrainians with famine but current Government in Russia tries to cover up all the crimes Russia has performed during and before the II WW by the sick promotion of II WW and impose of their "heroic" victory over the Germany while actually killing and raping innocent people and occupying many countries.

The Science of StoryTelling: Nobelist Paul Nurse Talks about His Personal Genetic History

grrlscientist — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 05:59:30 +0000

The Science of StoryTelling: Nobelist Paul Nurse Talks about His Personal Genetic History

tags: The Science of Story Telling, Paul Nurse, genetics, family history, narrative, streaming video

This video is a fascinating look at Paul Nurse's personal history .. Nurse, who is a biochemist, Knight, 2001 Nobel Prize Winner and President of Rockefeller University in NYC, reveals how, after 58 years, he finally learned the truth of his own family history. As a boy, Nurse always felt "a little bit different" from the rest of his family. His parents and siblings all left school at age 15 while he excelled at academics and pursued higher education. In his 30s, Nurse's mother confided in him that both she and Nurse's father were "illegitimate" -- born out of wedlock to unknown fathers. A shocking revelation, but it didn't really explain why he was the oddball in the family. [10:08]

grrlscientist Sat, 06/20/2009 - 01:59

Tags