Of Matriarchs and Throwaway Kids

What was the Duchess of Dotage doing at StoryCorps?

by Bruce Schimmel

I didn't expect Suzanne Roberts — the generous matriarch of the Comcast clan and host of a national show on seniors — to be trundling up the steps of the little metal trailer parked on Independence Mall.

At 86, Suzanne is delightful. Her blue eyes blazed under a tsunami of blond hair, as she gamely hauled an alligator handbag — filled with a very patient poodle — into the silver Airstream that serves as a mobile recording studio for StoryCorps.

As public-radio listeners know, StoryCorps is a folklife project that collects "the everyday stories of ordinary people." So what was the Duchess of Dotage doing here? Suzanne's no Everyman, and besides, she already had a big pulpit.

Still, for whatever reason, WHYY gave Suzanne a rare ticket for a hot seat and the chance to be interviewed by a friend or family member.

Since 2003, StoryCorps has collected some 15,000 interviews. All are archived at the Library of Congress, and some are excerpted on Morning Edition. In Philadelphia, StoryCorps will collect some 125 interviews; like other cities, almost every slot was taken within days. Sorry, no room at this inn.

To interview her, Suzanne brought her daughter, Lisa, who didn't lob any softballs. "What's it like being 86?" she asked. "What do you regret not doing in your life?"

Along the way, mother and daughter peeled back family jealousies. "There's a viciousness in me," admitted Suzanne, "to want to be better than my mother, because she pulled me down." Asked about ending her career, Suzanne replied, "I just want to keep on being able to do it, till I just float away."

It was an honest, beautiful interview. As StoryCorps' creator David Isay puts it, "Listening is an act of love." So, I'm glad Suzanne got a spot. After all, even the rich and famous should have the joy of a loving interview.

It's human to want to be heard, though many who ought to be heard aren't issued invitations. High on my list of those lost in the shadows are children, especially those in trouble.

Children on the cusp of criminality crave a sympathetic ear. Their tough lives are often ciphers, especially to themselves; and when words fail them, they often turn to violence.

Fortunately, the so-called "throwaway children" held in the Youth Study Center on the Parkway have a chance to be heard through a new StoryCorps-like project. These 130 teenagers — including 20 girls — are completely cut off from friends and family, which is why YSC's principal, Margaret Holloman, is helping them find their voices.

Holloman asked for a volunteer from a new initiative called Prime Movers, whose wider goal is to kick-start journalism in public schools. I got this assignment, and it's a toughie. With incarceration comes censorship. The children can't talk about their pending cases. As minors, their identities must be blurred. And they can say little about their lives inside.

Still, the stories these children share in their crumbling classrooms can be as compelling as any heard in StoryCorps' cozy studios.

A 16-year-old, on friendship: "I don't have many friends. But the ones I do have, love me. Because I'm a rider [trustworthy]. I speak my mind, I keep it real, and I know how to keep a secret."

A petite 15-year-old girl, reading in a whisper from her handmade book of prayers, on the boyfriend left behind: "If God don't want me to be with him, we won't be together. But if I pass away, I hope he still got love for me."

Suzanne called her interview with her daughter "cathartic." These kids also have demons to exorcise. Hopefully, the stories of these lost children will find a way out, and we can all lend them an ear. Stay tuned.

(bruce@schimmel.com)