I got the call at work, and I can't remember if I called my partner or my dad first. It's kind of a blur. What I do remember is my mind immediately went to my son, three at the time, and what it all means for him.

I got the call at work, and I can't remember if I called my partner or my dad first. It's kind of a blur. What I do remember is my mind immediately went to my son, three at the time, and what it all means for him.

This story was created in a workshop led by StoryCenter's Silence Speaks initiative, sponsored by the Department of State's Bureau of Educational and Cultural Affairs, and coordinated by America House and the American Councils for International Education in Ukraine.

The sun shines beaming through my bedroom window as I wake to my seven beautiful children, they give me a reason for living. I also found my purpose from the work I've been chosen to do, I help people who have been in prison or the jail system to get primary health care and learn how to take care of their health and well being.

The people around here love to catch salmon and to eat them. Even gray whales like them, as one was recently spotted nearly 100 miles up a river. Salmon are an icon of our region. They have been a part of local culture as well as a source of food, for 1000s of years, but in the late 1990s their numbers were dwindling, probably because of the impact of the dams upriver.

I am the first girl of my family to get to go to the college. Getting the scholarship was not as hard as convincing my family that I should go. My friend applied for me because I was too scared that my family would be angry, or my brother would never talk with me again, or worse, when I got the call for the interview, I told my mother she was not exactly supportive, but she discussed with my father when the scholarship award letter came, my brother opened it while I was out.

Grandpa Doug died a few weeks ago. He wasn’t my grandpa. He was my neighborhood’s grandpa. Always at the local elementary school being a handyman or there with his camera documenting the talent shows, the art exhibits, whatever was going on . . . even in the classes that his granddaughter wasn’t in.

I’ve been so excited about the good work being done through the All Together Now workshops across the country. Thinking back, I can’t really say I’ve had an opportunity ­– or I haven’t seen it ­– to take a stand, and to engage in the necessary civil disobedience required to go against the American grain. Even if it’s “only” telling our stories. If telling our stories is subversive to an ultimately damaging master narrative, then let our voices be like a march, and let them be heard by as many people as possible.

Since its inception, the English colony, which later becomes the United States, was a place of the haves and have nots.

Mostly the have nots working for one to 2% of the population that control the majority of the new country's wealth,

very much like it is today at Hampton and places like it during the 1700s European indentured servants and enslaved Africans worked side by side. White and black bodies were whipped, ate the same lousy food, wore the same crappy clothing, some cases even escaping together because it was not about your black I'm white. It was more about we are both being oppressed.

City of Dolls is a digital storytelling about women and girls who make handmade dolls in

Tajmir (a small village in Iran). This digital storytelling created by Marjan Foroughi and

"Shahrzad Creative digital storytelling Center. (Shahrzadcdsc).

It was February in Wyoming, and the data gathering started early, so the sky was still dark when I pulled on my staff t shirt, then I slipped my medicine bag over my head. Everyone that day needed healing, including me.

I live out in the country. For the last couple of months, my husband and I have been out in nature, gardening and clearing our woods. The isolation has almost been positive for us.

I live out in the country. For the last couple of months, my husband and I have been out in nature, gardening and clearing our woods. The isolation has almost been positive for us.

I take my mother to church. She is 91. I know how important it is that I go with her-- imperative is a better word. Church has been the comfort of her life, and also her cudgel. My mother doesn’t wash her hands before she eats, but she always prays.

People around our neighborhood started becoming fussy around the doctor. We were worried not only about him, but about his grandmother. Slowly people started losing their minds. There were threats written on the wall of his house.

People take it for granted, when they’ve always had it, but I spent my whole childhood without electricity.

I like to challenge myself. I'm a poor chess player, but I appreciate the skills you learn from it. We all know, chess is a game of strategy, of predicting your opponent's next move and planning for the inevitable future. Kevin was about my height, but skinnier.

Their voices were indistinct, and my vision collapsed into a tunnel of fuzziness. I became aware only of the heat and overbearing suffocation in the room, and my skin prickled with a noose. My mom was listening, seated alongside me, the MRI is suspicious for cancer.

I inherited the sork, my grandmother, mother, sister and now me. I avoided the sork. I didn't want it a heavy weight to carry, and I cry far too easily. I inherited this work, love and strength, pain and trauma.

Cars rush past overhead, but as loud as the sounds are above, the flow of water dominates. Water has been an endless source of inspiration and amazement for me, just waiting to be explored downstream, the creek rages with the rise of a heavy spring rainstorm, ash trees and reed canary grass hug the banks.