A few months ago I was unpacking my bags in a hotel in San Francisco when my phone alerted me that I had an email.
I glanced at it, fully expecting to ignore it, when I realized it was someone emailing me through the contact form on my website.
Those emails are usually worth reading.
When I opened it, I was surprised to see that it was from someone working for the local community college in my hometown, Beaufort County Community College. He had heard about the storytelling workshops I did and asked if I would come back home to Little Washington to lead one.
BCCC had a Small Business Center that periodically offered free workshops to help members of the community.
I was touched more by this job offer than almost any other one last year.
It’s no secret that I love where I come from and it’s no secret that it’s important to me to help the community when it’s suffering. But I had never had the chance to do what I really do for them and help them improve their marketing strategies by incorporating storytelling.
On Monday I traveled back to my hometown and went to the doors of the Civic Center, which used to be the train depot back in the day. But more importantly, it was the spot of almost all community events when I was a kid.
When I looked inside the doors, a flood of emotion came running back.
This is where I had my first dance.
Way back in the early ’90s, I was in fourth grade. Earlier that year, I had fallen in love with a fifth grade girl, Katie Cox, when I saw her across the cafeteria. She didn’t know about it, but I was still in love with her. When we had our first school dance of the year, I had one mission: to ask her to dance.
I waited over 90 minutes until the dance was almost over until I finally worked up the nerve to ask her. She said yes, and I’m still not even sure why. But there on the wooden floor of the Civic Center, I lost my slow-dance virginity to the classic tunes of “When a Man Loves a Woman” — except it was the Michael Bolton version.
While I was busy daydreaming the first people started arriving for the workshop.
People came all the way from Jacksonville and Rocky Mount. They drove almost an hour to listen to me talk for three hours.
There were small nonprofits and electric companies, real estate agents and roller rink owners.
There were ex-teachers and old friends. My mom even sent half her staff!
But they all suffered from the same problem: they struggled to connect with their audience through video.
What I’ve learned over the past few years of teaching people the art and science of video storytelling, is that people are yearning to make real authentic connections with their communities. And they know that have access to all these tools and that they should capitalize on the opportunities those tools create.
They just don’t know how.
They overthink, they fear failure or the unknown, or they spin in circles seeking the best tools that would make their tasks easier.
And what happens because of those issues, is they end up doing nothing.
I told them what I tell any workshop I lead: to slow down and keep it simple. I explained to them certain primitive psychological drivers that humans have always cared about most and how we need to tap into those.
The psychological drivers are at the core of any connection and communication and if we know what people want and need, it will help us decide what kind of story to tell them to communicate our messages. People care about surviving, thriving and being better, finding love, or belonging to a community.
All I did during this workshop is what I do every day.
But for some reason, to go back to the community that raised me and help those that (either directly or indirectly) helped me get to where I am today, was so much more fulfilling.
Rain Bennett is a two-time Emmy-nominated filmmaker, writer, and competitive storyteller with over a decade of experience producing documentary films that focus on health and wellness. His mission is simple: to make the world happier and healthier by sharing stories of change.
You can read the rest of “Right as Rain” here, and check back every Wednesday on Chapelboro for a new column!
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