Stories matter because people matter

Stories matter because people matter, and how we tell people's stories matter. Stories are at the very core of who we are as people…they are the definition of our lives.

Stories are how we connect with each other, whether it's over a meal, sharing a drink, or around the campfire. At the end of our day, we talk with our partners, our pets, or our plants and let them know just how the day went…through stories. We post to social media as if our lives are stories for others to see and watch.

Stories are right at the start of our conversation when we meet someone knew. It's how we establish common ground, better understand where they're coming from, and show that person who we are.

So, when I found myself on stage being recognized with eight other storytellers, I had to check myself and wonder how I ended up there. I don't write as much as I used to, and I certainly don't put myself in front of the camera. And the people on stage? I'd worked with most of them in some form or fashion over the years, and had an immense respect for the work they were doing.

(And if you're interested in hearing people's stories or telling your own, I HIGHLY recommend following Storytellers Macon on Facebook. They meet every month and give you a chance to take part in amazing stories, and you can definitely learn a lot about the people and community around you.)

But I didn't think anyone would see the work we do as being on a level with some amazingly creative people. Or that anyone would see beyond what we were saying and recognize what we were trying to do.

Local government sits at the crossroads of every aspect of our lives, and that means we deserve and need to hear directly from it. The decisions made at the local level have a direct impact on our daily lives…and on our future. From something as visible as road repair to something as long-term as affordable housing…we deserve to know what's being done, whether it's a small or big decision.

But that gets harder and harder each year as we are bombarded with information. From texts to calls to social media, there is more information available than ever before, and it's harder to break through that noise and reach people.

That's where government communications comes into the picture and what we try to accomplish. Not as public information officers or photographers or event planners or graphic designers or crisis handlers…but as storytellers who know the power of authentic and emotional stories.

Because government is not a monolithic entity with a single mind…it's made up of people. Real people that have real backgrounds with real stories to tell, with real morals and values informing their decisions. People with real love and dedication to their profession who are trying to make a difference. And real people that are impacted by every decision made.

Through authentic, emotional, and connective storytelling, we have tried to build a program that shows the meaning of the work, goes behind the scenes with how things happened, and shines the light on people.

This is how we tell our government's - and ultimately our community's - story: through the people serving and being served. Through their stories, we can connect our past (good or bad) to the present and direct attention to the future. Through their stories, we can humanize the issue, make it relatable, and show we're all part of one big story.

The stories we tell - whether it's through the traditional media or with a web posting or in our e-newsletter or with a feature video or with a social media reel or with a staged event or any number of tools at our disposal - matter to us, and how we tell them matters to us. Why?

Because stories are personal. They are how we connect with individuals, with groups, with the world around us. They define us and our relationships, and it's how we make sense of what's happening.

And all stories are told better through those who live them…when those who understand and feel them are given the chance to use their real voices.

It's one thing to hold a ribbon cutting to name a park in Historic Pleasant Hill. It's a different level - one that resonates much deeper - to have residents speak to their memories of the community and of the person being honored.

It's one thing to have elected officials turn a shovel of dirt at the site of a new school. It's much more memorable to have the students use toy shovels and pails to turn that same dirt because they will be the ones served.

Stories are meant to be lived. Stories are meant to be told. Stories are meant to be heard and seen.

And it's our distinct honor to have the space and platform to help tell just some of Macon-Bibb's stories. To tell the stories of its people…because they matter to us.

And don't forget…if you see yourself as a storyteller, want to be one, or just want to learn more about the people around you, join up with Storytellers Macon on Facebook.