Power comes in many shapes and forms – It can be collective or individual, withheld or abused, lost or gained. Regardless, power is something that everyone engages with. This episode was hosted by Kim Shine & Joel Dresang, edited by Sam Wood and features four powerful stories from Antonie Carter, Heater Hingston, Christine Reardon and Patricia Rosenberg.
Episode transcript below from Ex Fabula's Real Storie MKE series.
Kim Shine: Welcome to Real Stories MKE, brought to you as part of Ex Fabula’s mission to connect Milwaukee through real stories. I’m Kim Shine
Joel Dresang: And I’m Joel Dresang. Ex Fabula believes that everyone has personal stories worth sharing. Ex Fabula hosts storytelling workshops to help community members build their storytelling skills and confidence. And Ex Fabula holds StorySlams where real stories get shared on stage. In this episode, we’re bringing you four of those powerful stories.
Kim Shine: Yeah. That's right. This season of Real Stories MKE is presented by Christine Symchych and Jim McNulty. Thank you, guys, so much. And our theme this episode, the final episode of season six is “Power”. Now, some people may immediately view this as physical strength or in current times, as political action. But power is an ability that we can all have, attain, feel, lose, and even exert over others.
Its presence can come from within, from a stranger, or even an unknown source. Now, ultimately, power is a responsibility and, in my opinion, it's best used to connect, inspire, problem solve, and learn. Our first power story is from Antoine Carter quoting Bruce Lee. He talks about the shape of water when poured into a cup, and how the power of bias has impacted his own ability to flow into his natural state.
Now, Antoine shared the story at the Power Dissent and Youth Empowerment Slam in 2017. Here's Antoine.
Antoine Carter: I'm a black man. Yeah, right. As a black man, something you may not know, I'm a big quote guy. The mighty Bruce Lee once said: “You put water in a cup. It becomes a cup. You put water in a bottle, it becomes a bottle. You put water in a teacup, and it becomes a teacup.” What I've learned in my life is, as a black man, it's really hard to be like water because there's so many boxes that people want to put you in.
I'll give you an example. I am born in Harambee, but for about 25 years I've been a product of 53206. Right boxes. Everybody just put me in a box, right? And so, you realize that even as a young kid, that there as a black man, there are limits and you can't really go out that box without trouble, without some sort of doubt, whether it's you, your character, whether it's your blackness, all that stuff.
As a kid, I grew up. I went to Spanish Immersion (elementary school). I could have went to any normal school. My mom actually found that in a phone book, actually. But growing up, Spanish Immersion was like an affluent school with kids whose dads were pitching coaches for the Brewers and, you know, city folks who have really important jobs at City Hall and all this stuff.
And me and my black friends, we caught the bus there from our houses in Harambee. And there was always this box that they tried to put you in. The free lunch box. That you play basketball box. The ‘tu no sabes español’ box. As you continue to grow older, those boxes change, but they're still just as limiting. As you get older, living in 53206, internally, you want to continue to strive for greatness.
But don't read books. You want to pursue goals but grab a ball and grab a sack. That's what my friends in the neighborhood told me, because the box for them was selling drugs because they didn't care about school. Their parents didn't really support them. I was blessed to have a mom and a dad who loved me. So that hopefully removes another box.
Trying to strive to go to college. When I graduated from Riverside, I wanted to go. I want to go to Saint John's. I wanted to go to UCLA.
But even at that time, I started to fall more into that box, and I didn't even apply.
And then as you get older, you see that in Milwaukee, the jobs aren't really available like that. You got to wear a suit and shit. Sorry, I'm cussing a lot. But you still have to keep on trying. You still have to define your own box. So, as I got older, I really, really, really wanted to be like that quote I said earlier.
I want it to be like water. But even then, you still, as you're finding your way, you still have to duck those boxes. And they’re everywhere. It's like getting pulled over by a police officer. Got to stay away from the box before you get shot right? One time I, was pulled over, and, my friend, who was a drug dealer at the time, the police told him that, uh... Man, this is hard.
If your baby mama don't show us her breasts, we're going to take you to jail.
Because he thought we were in those boxes. And even as I've, like, grown professionally, my job is I help people start gardens. I'm still put in the box. (Censored) don't grow food. You ain't Will Allen.
Nice. One minute. But what I've learned is, even as you continue to grow, boxes are pretty... They're just something you have to deal with. And so, when I came to this exhibit, and I saw Antoine's organ.
I immediately identified with that box. And even though in the center of that box is a beautiful piano, I've seen videos where the gentleman plays songs of rage. And I feel like that, too, even as a guy who's still doing work, trying to get out of those boxes, I go to work and I'm the only black guy in my office of environmental folks.
And a gentleman shows up and he's doesn't know where he's going, doesn't know who he is, who he's looking for, and I ask him if he needs help. And he's like, “No, man, I want to talk to them. You don't have to be security.”
Another box. And so, my question is, when can I be water? Thank you.
Kim Shine: That was Antoine Carter.
Joel Dresang: Our next power story comes from Heather Hingston. Heather shares her journey confronting her eating disorder and how a higher power intervened. She told this story in 2012 at an Ex Fabula StorySlam with the theme “Saves the Day”. Here's Heather.
Heather Hingston: I went to grad school to become a marriage and family therapist. I really like people. All of my friends think I give really great advice. Maybe I would figure out something about my weird family. It doesn't be great. But I got so much more than what I signed up for. At the time, that was in the fall of 2008, and at the time, I was in the trenches of a pretty intense battle with bulimia.
I was very, very sick. But I had told a story about my life as long as I can remember that I was fine. And not just that I was fine, but I had it under control, that I could handle this. So, I started grad school anyway, even though lots of people were concerned and I probably shouldn't have.
But I was fine. So, I started. And two months into the program, I was sitting in a class called EAT, which is ironic and stood for emotions, attachments and traumas. And my therapist—or...oh, yeah right. My professor asked us to make two lists. The first list was the list of values that we said we held. So, the story that we told.
And the second was, if no one could talk to you and just watch you, what would be the values they would say? What's the story they would tell? And do they match? And obviously mine didn't. I was living this huge lie full of shame and secrets, and it was staring me in the face, and I couldn't deny it.
And I couldn't ask people to sit in front of me and ask for help and change if I wasn't willing to do that. So, by God's grace, I got the courage and asked my professor for help. And that week I started treatment. And you fast forward two years and I am done with grad school. Yay! I'm a therapist and I'm healthy, right?
Nope. I'm healthier and I was. I was healthier. But the story, the mask that I had been wearing for so long was falling apart. And I was fine on the outside, but on the inside, I was a wreck. But God's patient and knows me better than I do. And knew where to find me, which happened to be outside my bathroom one fall day.
I had binged that day. My roommates were all gone and I was home alone, and I had binged. And just a side note. Bulimia is a binge-purge cycle, and anorexia is different, but they're both very deadly. And we should educate ourselves because they're an epidemic. But I had, binged, and I was frantically pacing my house because I was in this part of my treatment where this isn't the story that I wanted.
And I knew that, but I didn't know anything else. I didn't know what else to do. And so, I'm, like, pacing my house, like trying to remember, remember all of the jargon my therapist had said, like “Ride the Wave”. And I was like, that's not helping. So, I'm like, in and out of my bathroom, in my hallway, in my bedroom, and I am in my bathroom at one point and I'm thinking, do I just do this again?
Do I just start over? I just—I'll get it right. But I wasn't getting it right and I wasn't going to. And I stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway. And at this point I had written myself into this corner, so to speak. I had type casted myself in my own life that I didn't have a choice of what to do or what not to do.
This is what I knew and trusted that I came face to face with a choice for the first time in this, in that hallway, and that was to live or to continue dying metaphorically and literally. And how I make sense of this moment in my head, his relationship that started, is with a metaphor, and I love metaphors.
I am in this vast ocean and the waves are crashing, and I'm treading water and God’s above me. And it's like, “Hey, Heather, stop treading.” And I'm like, “No, no, no, I've got this. I'm fine, thank you. Thanks for your concern. Appreciate it! This is fine.” And he is like, “No, no. Trust me. Heather, just stop.” And I'm like, I can see most people.
They just keep walking when you give them the spiel. They don't want to really help you clean up this huge mess. But he didn't keep walking, and I'm like, “No, you don't get it, do you? I'm doing this. All of this is so I stay afloat. I'm surviving. If I stop this, I’ll drowned, I'll die.” And he gets right on my level and is like, “I know that's the point.
I'll save you.” So, I'm in this hallway treading water, terrified because I don't know what to do. My story is it. That's all I know. It's all I trust. And I don't know anything about this God. Christ, I don't know nothing, I know nothing, but I step towards my room anyway, terrified out of my mind. And I get into my room, and I get in bed and I just cry harder and harder because I'm so scared.
Because I am not in control of this anymore. I'm not writing this part anymore, and I don't know how this will end. And I wish I could say that I woke up the next day and it was like sunshine and puppy dogs, but it wasn't. I still felt fat and exhausted, but it was different. And that's true. And I couldn't explain why it was different.
But it was different because I wasn't writing the story anymore. And you fast forward two years and two of the hardest years of my life, I would say, but more joyous than I could have ever come up with on my own. And I'm standing in front of lots of people on a stage telling them a very personal story.
And I get to tell them that bulimia is not a part of that story anymore. And that's really cool. And it's because every day I have to choose not to pick up that pen and write the story that I think will be cool, or the one I know, but to trust the one He writes for me instead.
Because the difference between my story and God's story is that mine wants me to be okay desperately. And that's great. But his doesn't just want me to be okay. His makes me better every day. Thanks.
Joel Dresang; That was Heather Hingston. Hey, Kim, let's do some UltraShorts
Kim Shine: I would like to do that.
Joel Dresang: Okay? These are those little stories that people share on slips of paper and emcees read them at our events. Do you have one?
Kim Shine: I do; this is from Lauren. Lauren says “I wore a back brace when I was in middle school, and often other kids would ask me about it and try to make fun of it, but I would just tell them what it's for and how it was helping me. And I realized if I'm not ashamed of it, then they don't have any power.”
Joel Dresang: Here's an UltraShort from Jean. “My superpower is servicing people and helping people in need.”
Kim Shine: Come on, Jean. This is from anonymous. “I learned the importance of being honest with others and myself. It's time to speak my own truth. It's time to feel empowered. I am worth it.”
Joel Dresang: This is also from anonymous. “When I was in grade school, my best friend and I would pretend we were vampires with magical powers, and at recess we would use those powers on people. And then parenthetically, it says no children were injured.”
Kim Shine: We've got a third story about power, and this time it's from Christine Reardon. She explains how the power of strangers helped shield her from an unsavory character in New York City, and how that moment has guided her life to this day. She told this story in April 2024 at AfterDark: For the Culture – a collaboration between Ex Fabula and HYFIN, a Radio Milwaukee station. Here’s Christine.
Christine Reardon: I'm not from around here. I grew up in Brooklyn, New York, and this is a story about the moment I decided who I wanted to be when I grew up. And I thought about this recently. A photograph was taken of me, and I looked at that photograph, and I'm like, I became that person I decided I wanted to be a 14-year-old.
So, I grew up in Brooklyn, but I got into a fancy high school in Manhattan, and I had to take the subway to school, and I had only just turned 14 when I was starting high school. So, there's little ol’ 14-year-old me. Imagine me a couple inches shorter, about half as wide, with the emotional maturity of maybe an 11-year-old.
And I'm on the subway by myself in New York City during rush hour. And there is this creepy old man, and he is reaching out and he wants to touch me. Now realize the 11-year-old brain, you know, 14-year-old girl, 11-year-old brain-brain is like, what is wrong with this man? I don't know what he wants to do.
I don't know why he's reaching out for me. It didn't make sense to me until many years later. But there he was, this creepy man reaching out to me. And so, I moved away. And he comes closer, and he's reaching out, and I move away again. But there's only so far you can move in the subway in New York City during rush hour, like there's no place to go.
There's, you know, 30,000 other people in that little car with you. So, there's a pole, and I'm moving around the pole, and he keeps coming, and he's going to touch me. And so it's relevant that this is 1988. And the reason that's relevant is because the TV show Different World had just come out. Does any of do you remember that?
Yeah, from The Cosby Show. Denise went off to college. And on that show was a lot of black female professional women. You know, the ones they stood up really tall. They had the shoulder pads in their suits. Their suits were bright colors, and they had those kind of stern faces, but you can tell they loved you anyway.
So, there I am on the subway, and there's this creepy little guy trying to touch me, and I don't understand what's going on, and I'm moving back. And out of nowhere, these three women from Central Casting for A Different World came out, and they form a wall between me and this man. And before I go any further, I want you to know that this is a true story.
This is my truth. This is how I truly remember this true story. That being said, if you want to argue that it's not factual, that's okay. Because these three women stare at that man. They look at him and they stare at him, and he begins to shrink. And they keep staring, and he gets smaller, and he gets smaller, and he gets so small that he turns into a rat and scampers away.
And this is a true story. And then the women disappear. I don't know, you know, it's really crowded. I look around, I want to say thank you. At least that's how I was raised. You know, I'm looking around and I want to say thank you. And I can't see them. They are gone. So, I continue on to school.
I get off. But here's the thing. That was the day that this mixed kid, raised by a white woman in a white neighborhood. With contact with, but not regular with my dad's family. This was the time that I sort of understood what it was to be one of those women from a different world, and to be strong and to be smart and to be educated and to be a protector.
And that is when I learned that that's who I wanted to be when I grew up. And last October, I looked at a picture of myself and I saw that I had become her. Thank you.
Kim Shine: That was Christine Reardon. And we have an update.
Joel Dresang: Oh, good! I like updates.
Kim Shine: Me too. She said “That story was my first time as a teller with Ex Fabula, and my second time ever telling a story in public. Since then, I have been a teller twice more at For the Culture events because it was such a wonderful experience.”
Joel Dresang: Good to hear our final power story comes from Patricia Rosenberg. This one shows the power of pranks, laughter, a bit of the mystical realm, and ultimately, love. Patricia shared this story at a 2020 Ex Fabula StorySlam with the theme “In My Mind.” Here's Patricia.
Patricia Rosenberg: In my mind, I am psychic, and I had my husband convinced of this. We met at this huge New Year's Eve party in the, 80s, actually. And I walked up to him, and I look at him and I go, “You look like your name could be Stan.” And he's like, oh, my God. And I well, I was friends with his sister, and he looked like his sister with a mustache, you know?
So, like, this is no big surprise. So anyway, and so then Stan and I start talking, and we're eating his chili con queso dip, when I fell in love immediately. With the dip. And then Stan and I talked for, like, three hours, and we became friends. And a couple of years later, we were married, and he had this thing because I'm a social worker and I grew up on the southwest side, one of 12 kids, so I can read people.
That's what I do for a living. And so, Stan, he was really shy. So, he really saw me as being like, a brilliant because I could figure people out. And so, he would have me...Well, first one time something happened, his sister was dying, like early, when we were just engaged and ah, his older sister. And I knew her well, and we're...we expect her to live a couple more weeks.
And I woke up one day and I said, Stan, get to the hospital. I just know you have to get to the hospital. And he got to the hospital, and he got to see her. She died a few hours later. And so. And then Stan would use me to hire people. He was a manufacturer of trophies, and I was consequently a trophy wife.
And, and Stan...he used me, he hired this guy, and I met him, and I said, this guy's bad news, Stan. He goes “I can't get rid of him.” I'm telling you; he’s bad news. Well, the guy robbed him blind. I mean, thousands of dollars out the door of trophy... like, of metal.
That's valuable. So anyway, so Stan always thought I was psychic after that. And then we, it was like, in the 90s. And I have two little kids at home, and Stan is working like crazy, and cell phones had just come out, and he was butt dialing me. Now, this is before we even knew what butt dialing was. You know, my phone kept ringing and I'm picking up the phone and there he is.
And I put it down again. And I'm trying to take care of kids. And I was so mad. And I couldn't call him back because his phone is in his butt. So, you know, and I'm like, oh, God. And so finally, I get the kids in bed, and this is a day—OJ is it? We're driving his Bronco and I'm watching OJ.
And then Stan butt calls me, and I still don't know what happened to OJ. And so, he, so Stan calls me and I hear him and I hear him and I hang up, and then I get on the landline and I call him up, and I go, honey, honey, you know how how you think that maybe I could be psychic?
Well, I think I just had a vision. Are you standing in the laser room talking to Eric about Tina's insurance? And he goes, oh my God, oh my, I'm coming home. You know, he comes home, and I tell him, I go, you know. And he was like, so he's still mad at me, you know? He was like, so mad at me.
So anyway, so that was the beginning of like, I think. So, 20 years later, we, I get this thing in my head. I'm a social worker. And I said, Stan, we have to talk about signing Do Not Resuscitate orders. And that is, you know, it's—not to revive you or not, if you stop breathing. And and I tell them that I had a patient who...his wife.
She tried to resuscitate him in the night after his brain dead. And he now had an IQ of a three-year-old. And I said, Stan goes, I don't want you ever to resuscitate me no matter what. And I said, well, I don't want to be. So he goes, I want you to.
I mean and I said, Stan, I said, this guy's like a 3 year old. He goes; I'm already like a 3 year old. And I said, all right. And I said, and then he goes, and I'm going to bed now, and you can't sleep with me anymore because you're not going to save my life. And so anyway, so the next day, I go to work, and I get a call from work, and it's my son Matthew, and Matthew goes, “Mom, we have a problem.
Stan’s partners trying to reach you. They can't reach you.” And I knew then that Stan was gone. At the end, Stan died of a sudden heart attack. And I felt it, and I knew. And what it tells me is that love is psychic.
Joel Dresang: That was Patricia Rosenberg.
Kim Shine: And this is our last episode of this season, and I'm so sad about that, Joel.
Joel Dresang: I know, this is so fun.
Kim Shine: Yeah. And I actually have to say, I was telling you this before, I think that this is... this is one of my favorite seasons.
Joel Dresang: One of your six favorites?
Kim Shine: Yes, one of my six favorites. And hopefully you guys feel the same. But don't worry if you know, if you're a little sad because Ex Fabula has been at this since 2009, and there's more audio and more video stories at exfabula.org
Joel Dresang: Ex Fabula’s website lists upcoming storytelling workshops and StorySlams so you can make plans to work on your storytelling and maybe even put your name in the hat. You can also connect with Ex Fabula on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok and Bluesky and you can listen to more Real Stories MKE wherever you get podcasts.
Kim Shine: Thank you, guys, so much. Everybody who makes this program possible, including Ex Fabula staff, storytellers, and audio engineer, Sam Woods.
Joel Dresang: Thanks, Sam.
Kim Shine: We also want to thank our producer Jordan Terry and Ex Fabula funders who support including the Charles E. Kubly Foundation, CopyWrite Magazine, and CAMPAC.
Joel Dresang: For Real Stories MKE, I'm Joel Dresang.
Kim Shine: And I'm Kim Shine. Don't forget everybody has stories to tell, so please consider telling yours. And thank you for listening.
