We’ve all heard some cliché joke about ‘voices in our head’, usually posted over and over again on Facebook or quoted by someone who hasn’t quite figured out just how tired that concept is. But this isn’t about some comic concept of ‘voices in one’s head’, but rather something that has haunted me for some time.
I long ago accepted I was a storyteller for my people. It’s never anything officially bestowed upon one by the ancestors, or even a conscious decision for me, but rather something I grew into. I vowed that I would do my best to put my children in touch with those they would never know. Just this morning I was telling them that in a couple of days would be their great-grandfather’s birthday, and the thought came to me yet again: I can tell stories (and often do), give dates and descriptions and all that, but how can I mimic their voices?
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