Computer systems, the name still elicits excitement. An analyst at York tells this story in January 1987 "Yorklore". He was flying about 25 thousand feet over the Great Lakes on his way back from a business trip. His fellow passenger was reading a copy of the National Enquirer and as much as he scoffed at this [source] he started reading it over his seat mate's shoulder.
This is what caught his eye, “YorkUniversity, Youngest undergraduate”. He found himself reading on.After all only this news print would make up a story about an 11 year old undergraduate. It wasn’t until he returned to his job at York that he discovered the horrible truth.There was a new student enrolled, Jason Levy was his name, making the Enquirer correct.
The moral of this story, never judge an article while on board an aircraft flying 25 thousand feet!
The computer analyst loves this story and the telling of it.
"YORKLORE", the name sounds elusive and yet those tellers who contributed some of their memories shared these stories with a special feeling for York University. It was collected over 19 years ago and these stories still bring me closer to that special place and time.
Storytellers come every shape and size, they are young, less young and some are quite mature. All have one thing in common, they have a story to tell that makes them feel alive. Such a person deserves to be heard, let's call him Bob,
Professor Bob tells of the unexpected confrontationwith two teaching assistants.
Working as a team they requested time offgiving very little notice to the Department. Somewhat dismayed with the lack of professionalism on the part of these TAs, Bob felt he had no choicebut to give them thetime requested. This was after all ahumanistic environment and although they had not givenany reason for the urgency, the time was granted. It was several days later then Professor Bob received a telephone call informing him that his team had just had a baby.
Asked if he had not noticed anything, Bob smiled and walked away still amused by the incident with York's humanistic center intact.
Listen, record and remember. The telling comes naturally. Each time a story is shared it receives its just moment in time, validating and enriching our present.
"YorkLore" includes 26 stories from staff, faculty and students at York University. The stories were all shared in the fall and winter of 1986; the tellers were recounting a moment in time that impacted on them in some way.
This next story reminds those of us who have stood in the registration line up in September waiting to get your classes selected.
Atkinson College 1977: Registration This was the setting for an onslaught of profane language directed towards the staff. A student speaking in an aggressive tone used foul four letter words bellowed out clear and loud. The Administrative Assistant took it upon herself to call out the Registrar for aid in the disturbance. Now our Registrar was known to possess a thorough knowledge of slurs, insults and four letter words held no mystery for her. With steely confidence she approached the counter and addressed the perpetrator,
"Young man, I don't use that kind of language. The ladies in this office are members of my staff and they will not be subjected to this ugly discourse. You will now leave !"
Our highly indignant intruder was no match for this valiant College Registrar and left. The staff in Registration still today appreciate the irony of the story as well as the support rendered them by their Registrar.
It is often said that "No good deed goes unpunished". But respect in the workplace is forever, pass it on,
If ever there was time to collect stories and record shared memories, back to school is just such a time! No matter our age, no matter where we were, the feeling that something was going to happen haunts us still.
In the fall of 1986 I was studying at York University. In a first brush with the study of folklore I had the opportunity to collect "Yorklore". This was the title I gave to my collection of stories shared by faculty, staff and students about something they had experienced while at York. They were short or longer, they ranged between beliefs stories and anecdotes, humorous or mysterious. I still feel privileged by the tellers generosity in sharing these with me. Here is one such story;
"It was a the winter of 1985. Three of us were support staff and we spotted a body outside lying on the snow. Watching for a few moments and observing the body was motionless security was called in to investigate. Having taken CPR training the staff still felt ill equipped to deal with an emergency. Upon arriving the Security guards quickly assessed the situation while the staff looked on "safely" from the window. All were relieved when it was obvious our victim, whom the staff thought might be dead, was only drunk.
===========================
Their imagination had wandered from assault to suicide. Being dead drunk hadn't entered the repertoire of victim. Strictly a sober set !
================================================================ What do Realtors say about selling? Location, Location, Location! Collecting stories can take place anywhere; an intimate corner at a Christmas gathering, on the porch while taking in the breeze, during a pancake breakfast with colleagues, an anniversary celebration. The place and time is determined by You and the Teller. You choose when and just record. Take it down in notes, a tape recorder, whatever fashion works best for you. Respect the act of sharing and stay true to the story.
It could be your returning to University or College, or perhaps your child's first day, record the moment, and share the telling,
It began with the grandfather clock chiming noon, and Mom and Dad sitting on the sofa while I explained my assignment. This was the setting for one of the most powerful telling sessions I ever took part in.
As an undergraduate at York University I was studying with Dr. Carol Carpenter. She had given her students the task of asking our parents how they met. No closed or leading questions and no feeding answers. They were to tell their story. and you as the recorder collect them.
I began by setting them down in the living room in their condo. Tea and chocolates were placed on the coffee table and the sun streamed into the room making it feel more than a little surreal. As one of eight children I had been the first to make the request. Mom and Dad just were. They met, fell in love, and got married. That was our version.
Mom giggled and Dad laughed at the serious way I was approaching this but soon we were in it. Dad started sharing his experience as a soldier in New Brunwick stationed in Moncton.
"She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Sitting with her friends in a restaurant I was across the room having lunch with another soldier. He laughed at me when I said "I'm going to marry that girl". Dad got back to base and requested a transfer. It took a year but he did get back, spotted who would become my Mom on the street with a group of friends. He introduced himself and within 6 weeks they were married.
That's the magic of familore. It never gets old. And everytime you tell it it gets newer still.
Gail DeVos, Adjunct Associate Professor in the School of Library and Information Studies at the University of Alberta. Her courses include storytelling and literature for children and YA (young adults). Having recently read Gail's first book Storytelling for Young Adults: Techniques and Treasury I appreciated how this teller made the reader feel the power in themselves to share their stories. More important still , she provides ideas and techniques for new tellers to help others bring forward their stories.
