Black and white photo of a man in a vest and tie, with handwritten notes and drawings around him, including phrases like "Alex Street," "Storytelling Expert," and "Today's a Great Day!"

CAN I TELL YOU

A STORY?

A man sketching on a large piece of paper on a wall, with a second photo of a young boy in a red paper birthday crown and yellow shirt, entertained by a pineapple cake.

Black and white dotted style illustration of a vintage television set with antennas, with a blue circle overlay on the left side.

Black and white halftone drawing of a person holding a vintage camera, with a yellow shooting star graphic above the camera.

FOR AS LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER…

I’ve had this restless spark inside me. Like I knew I had the power to change lives, to make an impact with my gifts, if only I could figure out how exactly to do that…

Storytelling was the air I breathed growing up. My mom could light up any stage with just her words, moving a room to the edge of their seats. My dad told stories through a camera lens, capturing images that spoke ten thousand words. I was mesmerized by the way stories could shift a mood, spark a laugh, or move someone to tears. It was like magic, and I wanted to be a part of creating that magic, too.

A person standing on a stage with a music stand, smiling with arms outstretched. The image appears on a printed paper resembling a receipt, with text and a photo of the person.

Naturally, I chased the spotlight. I dove headfirst into acting, searching for my own voice under those bright stage lights. But with each role I played, I kept asking myself: What’s my story? What am I actually here to say?

I was constantly confused about my purpose here.

EVERYTHING BEGAN TO CHANGE WHEN I WAS SEVENTEEN…

I stepped onto a stage, not to act, but to speak.

For the first time, I was given an opportunity to drop the script and share my own story. That moment of honesty gave me the clarity I’d been searching for and lit a fire I couldn’t ignore.

The clarity I craved was found in my story.

I kept chasing that feeling, looking for more chances to connect in a real way. That search led me to new stages and eventually into the role of Youth Pastor, where I found myself week after week in front of audiences, sharing stories and listening to theirs. I’m no longer playing that role, but for over two decades I’ve been finding stages to speak from. It has been in those rooms, surrounded by so many different voices, that I’ve learned something important.

Storytelling isn’t about sounding perfect. It’s about helping people see what’s possible for them, to feel, think, and be inspired to change the way they live.