My first childhood memories circle around listening to stories, being intensely interested in people and their storytelling. Having grown up in a German-Silesian refugee family network meant that storytelling was part of the daily life, especially weekends. The old Heimat, now in Poland, behind the iron curtain, was constantly invoked when members of our Silesian family would visit each other for Sunday afternoon coffee and cake sessions. I used to sit on a footstool listening to stories about the town we all came from, stories about the war, grief, hunger, angst, violence. But also just stories about the family, the ones who died, where relatives and friends had ended up after the war, how difficult and humiliating it was to be the unwelcome stranger in the West German town in which I was born. I like stories, I am used to listening and, as a child, I grew into a listener who sat at the margins; a position I am still comfortable with and hence I have a certain feeling of unease with conventional interview situations
