Chapter 1
Why Stories Matter

Meet Holley

Twenty-seven years ago, I was just an introverted kid being tossed around the heart of New York City. As the middle child of five, in the custody of two drug-addicted-soon-to-be-separated parents, I was no stranger to the muffling of my own voice amongst my family, or in a crowd.

Actions, conversations, decisions—all of these things were happening around me, and as a six-year-old with very little agency, when it came to grown-up life topics, I was fairly practiced in opting out of all of the above.

While it’s true that, early on, I often played the role of fly on the wall in most conversations, over time, I developed a knack for building genuine and meaningful connections with people through empathy and active listening in private connections. As I grew older, I began using my quiet skills to stand out in what seemed like a perpetually noisy world. Luckily, the opportunities provided to me by my stealthy behaviors also helped develop my confidence so that I—not necessarily just my anxieties—began to challenge myself in academic and extracurricular settings. I intended to grow through my public discomfort by intentionally taking on public-facing roles, roles that demanded I be outspoken in order to succeed.

After years of playing it quiet, in third grade I picked up a basketball. I was naturally athletic and in love with the sport. It helped me have conversations and form friendships with kids in the neighborhood that I would have never approached off the court. In fourth grade, I entered my first storytelling contest (and won first place). In fifth grade, I auditioned for The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and earned the role of Reverend Sprague. In seventh and eighth grade, I joined the mock trial team and competed against middle school students throughout the city, learning the art of formulating and sharing a grounded, persuasive argument. In tenth grade, I became captain of both the debate and girls’ basketball teams, honing my leadership, argumentation, and critical-thinking skills, while polishing a style of my own.

My college years weren’t that different. I still loved basketball. I still loved finding my way to the spotlight. Fascinated and inspired by the ways words ignite things, I went on to study communications and media, specifically television and radio. I was immersed in the field, and thriving using a skill that once terrified me. And this is a version of my story—a fairly linear approximation of about 22 years of my life. But if this book serves to develop any common understanding, let it be that almost nothing about life is linear, and what little there is, is often terribly boring. And with that common understanding, let’s agree that this version of my story—no matter how many times portions of it have been repeated in interviews, podcasts, or speeches—is not only a bit lulling, but also fairly inadequate. And yet, it still matters.