What Do We Mean by Changing Lives
By Robert Waxler (profile)

What do we mean when we use that phrase, "Changing Lives Through Literature?"

Is it possible to change lives? How can we dare make such bold claims? So many people argue that literature makes no difference at all.

I disagree with those who deny the transformative power of literature. I have seen it happen. Yes, I have witnessed this magic.

Of course, I have always believed in literature, in its healing power, its ability to change lives. Don't get me wrong, though. I am not talking just about the words on a page or the book sitting peacefully on a shelf. No, that is not what I mean by literature. I mean something else, something that makes me a part of the story that I am reading, or creating, or discussing with others. Literature is always alive for me. It keeps me free.

When I sit around the table with criminal offenders, the probation officers and the judges, colleagues and friends, I watch as we are seduced by the plot, pulled in by the depth of the characters. It is as if the story calls to us, challenges us, forces us to make choices.

By reading and then talking to each other about any good story, we get to know our limitations; we meet ourselves coming and going. And it is at that moment of meeting that hope always arrives; we are struck by the magic of the encounter with ourselves, the moment of surprise, the opening for transformation.

The shaping power of human language, the ritual of discussion and human exchange, takes on its own life, has its own energy, and becomes its own healing balm. Through reading and discussing good stories, we are initiated into new dimensions of consciousness; judges, probation officers, criminal offenders, professors talking around that table - together we all shape our passion, our rage, our anger through a language that yields human understanding.

Most criminal offenders that I know have felt isolated for too long. They have been pushed to the margins, lost their voices, and become disconnected from others and themselves. They are stuck, locked in a perpetual present, a prison of an endless repetitive moment.

Literature gives them a renewed opportunity to see that there are many different views of an event, many dimensions to a human character, many perspectives within each moment in time. They can break free.

Literature gives all of us a rich and expansive place to live and to dream.

Yes, I believe stories can save us from the chaos of our lives, perhaps from death itself. When we experience the sensuous delight of a good story, we experience the unfolding of ourselves...of our mortality. We journey through the complexity and ambiguity of language and discover our identity reflected there as if in a mirror. Through literature, we create a covenant with others, sealed with the human heart.

Reading literature is a direct and immediate engagement with language. Discussion intensifies this engagement, increases our authority and self-confidence, our empathetic imagination, our moral center. We experience a good story and then reflect on that story, and that story is always our story as we explore it together, dig into it, shape our past nightmares as we go, and clear ground for our future.

It is as if we are on an archaeological adventure into the deepest recesses of our consciousness. We are not alone. Others have been there before us.

Through reading and discussions, language skills become life skills as we create our own place in the world. Together around the table, we question, rethink our positions, and rediscover our voices, our values, ourselves. The ambiguity of language unsettles us, opens us to a larger world than we expected, demands that we listen and respect diverse perspectives, new interpretations, and unanticipated experiences filled with wonder and surprise.

Yes, reading and talking about good stories are the best opportunities we have to discover human identity and keep it alive. The experience creates democracy, good citizens, and a rich life. A good story calls on us to exercise our minds and reach deep into the human heart. It evokes compassion and changes lives.

I am not dreaming. I have seen it happen.