The Power of Stories

I admit I have always gotten a little nervous speaking in front of groups, no matter how small they might be. I remember in fifth grade giving a presentation and having to stand behind the desk so the class couldn’t see my legs shake. Not that the fluttering in my voice didn’t give it away.Fortunately, the nervousness I now get is nowhere near that extreme, but I do still get nervous. I think it is only natural though and once I get into my presentation, it usually wears off quickly and I begin to feel at ease with the group I am speaking to.

Recently, I had an opportunity to talk about KMOM with a Kiwanis Group in Kansas City at the invitation of Dr. Karen Baker. Now I have had the chance to talk about KMOM a number of times over the past few years and there are really two approaches. The first is to explain what the project is, what we do and the logistics behind it - the setup, teardown, funding, collaboration, etc. It’s the stuff that makes it happen. And for spreading the message with other states that might want to do a similar project, it’s a very good nuts and bolts way to explain what KMOM does. But it’s a presentation I hate to give. It’s not me. It’s not what inspires me.

So I threw that presentation away and before speaking to a Rotary Club in Independence earlier this year, I rewrote it, focusing not on the “what we do”, but on the “why we do it.” That approach focuses squarely on the patients and was the reason behind the KMOM Topeka video. It’s the stories of the decisions that patients all across Kansas have to make. Do they buy that winter coat for their children or do they take care of the cavity in their own mouth? Do they buy $4 a gallon gasoline so they can drive to the night shift that allows a father to put a roof over his children’s head and food on the table or does he see a dentist because of an infection that has erupted? What we have found is that a great many of the patients we treat are the working class of our society and have no other options as prices on necessities continue to skyrocket. They take care of their family’s needs, often at their own expense.

Then I told the stories of a few people I have met along the way. There was the 102 year old volunteer from Garden City KMOM in 2003 who was waiting on his 80 year old daughter to pick him up after he worked the morning shift. There was a young boy in Kansas City who volunteered to read to a group of kids for a photo, but continued to read as a crowd of young children gathered around him on that hot 107 degree day in Kansas City. And then there is the mother of two twelve- year old daughters who I had the opportunity to see smile for the very first time after a set of dentures was placed into her mouth. Her two daughters stood beside her with tears of joy as a ray of sunshine created a glow around their mother’s head. It is a moment forever engrained in my mind and one that chokes me up every time I talk about it. And it did on that morning, in front of twenty strangers. But it was okay. As I looked around, there was not a dry eye to be seen. They understood the message and the purpose for why we do what we do. It’s about public service. It’s about a profession stepping up where a system has let us down. It’s something far greater than portable dental chairs, units and lights. It’s the human spirit, making a difference in people’s lives.

That is the presentation I like to give. As I walked out of that room that day, I thought not about how I did, but about the people we have touched along the way.

Each and every single one of them.

--Greg Hill