While We Still Can · Print this page

A sitting, on paper.

You do not need the app to begin. Print these questions. Sit down. Let them talk. Write in the lines if a pen is easier than a screen.

Record in the library

Before you begin

How to sit without turning it into an interview.

Do not stack. Let the silence work. If they wander, follow them. The gravy is as important as the date.

If the year is wrong and the feeling is right, keep the feeling. You are keeping a voice, not a census.

Stop while it is still pleasant. Tomorrow you can ask about the street they grew up on, again.

The questions

Tell me about where you grew up.

What did the street look like? Who was in the kitchen in the morning?
What did an ordinary Sunday smell like?

Coffee, gravy, orange peel, motor oil — name it.
Who taught you a thing with their hands?

A recipe, a radio, a garden, a car that would not start.
How did you meet the person you loved?

If they cannot find the name, ask for the room, the music, the weather.
What work did you do that nobody saw?

Night shifts, letters, the child who would not sleep.
Tell me about a time you were brave in a small way.

A parking lot. A thermos. A first winter in a new city.
What do you hope is not forgotten?

A laugh. A dish. A sentence someone said on a fire escape.
If we write only one page, what belongs on it?

Let them choose. That choice is the story.

When you are ready to keep the voice, open the library and press the microphone — or type what you wrote in the margins.