Finding our story

Part of a conversation in a separate blog with two colleagues, Mary and CeCe.

A week or so ago I watched the Netflix documentary called 'American Factory'. Wikipedia describes it like this:

In post-industrial Ohio, a Chinese billionaire opens a factory in an abandoned General Motors plant, hiring two thousand Americans. Early days of hope and optimism give way to setbacks as high-tech China clashes with working-class America.

Then, an hour ago, I watched a short discussion between the Obamas and the two filmmakers. They talked about film making and storytelling. One of the filmmakers was saying how she never goes into a project knowing, beforehand, what the story is. It's always a story that is found in the process.

It strikes me that this is exactly how I feel about the three of us writing together. Sometimes when I'm gardening, I find myself trying to find words for what our story might be. I never find them. When I try to force an idea to the surface, it sounds lifeless. I want our story, whatever it is, to be something we discover.

But for the filmmakers, it was obvious how they should go about finding their story. They pack up their camera and sound equipment, visit the factory daily for months (years?), and get folk talking.

How do we find our story?

Perhaps it might emerge out of our posts. I'm hoping CeCe will write often about what's going on in her Year 10 class, and with the work she's doing as the Year 10 curriculum coordinator, and how she's feeling about Danse Russe and what's she's reading and doing and thinking and feeling. Mary too, as she looks after her grandchild and thinks about her book and her farm and other things she's doing and thinking about. I'm going to do the same. I'm not sure what I want to write about. Probably stuff that just happens during the day as I garden or walk or cook or whatever. There's that thought of Rilke's about living the questions

I'm guessing our book, if it happens, will be something unpredictable that will emerge out of the questions about which we three, separately and together, wonder.