Dovie Thomason and Elizabeth
By Rose Owens
It was time for the storytelling.
As Dovie Thomason and Robert Greygrass Eagle settled themselves, Elizabeth (2nd grade) and
Catherine (1st grade) abandoned me to sit on the floor right in
front of the storytellers. I had enjoyed
visiting with these two girls during the potluck dinner at the American Indian
Center (Livermore, Ca.). I had listened
to Dovie tell stories at the Bay Area Storytelling
Festival and I was anticipating more wonderful Native American stories. What happened was much, much more.
Dovie and Robert alternated telling
stories. It was Dovie’s
turn and she murmured, “What shall I tell next?”
“The Flying Head!”
“Why don’t you start it,” Dovie
said.
“Well, why don’t I begin and you raise your hand when I get to the
part you know and you can tell that part.”
The story progressed and “as he walked through the forest, he heard
something behind him. . .”
“The Flying Head!” said
Dovie’s hand came up in a stopping motion. “Not yet,” she cautioned, “
We have to build up more suspense.
We can’t tell them what it is too soon.”
Dovie continued the story and twice more she
cautioned her young teller to build up the suspense before telling the audience
what was there in the forest. Dovie’s words were telling the story but the twinkle in her
eyes, her smile, her
body language told a second story—a more important story. The mentoring of this young storyteller was more
important than the story Dovie was telling. In some inexplicable way, Dovie
allowed us to become a part of the mentoring process.
“Now,” she said.
And
When the storytelling was over.
Dovie complimented
“I want to be a storyteller,”
“You are a storyteller,” I said.
“Keep telling stories and you will become a better storyteller.”
A big smile flashed across
Copyright May,
2005
Rose Owens
Published in Storyline (Storytelling Association of
Summer 2005