George Floyd Memorial Square and the Purpose of the Arts
George Floyd Memorial Square and the Purpose of the Arts
Eben Drost
DWS 702: The Renewal of Sunday Worship: Music and the Arts
May 1st, 2025
Outline
I. Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . 2
II. Art, People, and Context . . . . . . . . . 2
III. Art and Community . . . . . . . . . 6
IV. Art and Healing . . . . . . . . . . 7
V. Art and Memory . . . . . . . . . . 10
VI. Concluding Reflections . . . . . . . . . 12
Introduction
After the murder of George Floyd in 2020, many people from Minneapolis and beyond came to the physical sight of his death (near the intersection of 38th Street and Chicago Avenue in South Minneapolis) to pay tribute, express their emotions, reflect, and seek healing and hope in community. People came to this site, now commonly known as “George Floyd Square,” with flowers, artwork, candles, protest signs, and more. While it began as a small, organic memorial for the community, it grew into something larger. It took on national and global significance because of the unprecedented movement for racial justice sparked by Floyd’s murder. Community leaders like Jeanelle Austin stepped in to provide leadership and cast a vision for a permanent memorial where everyone’s contributions were honored.[1] Today, the memorial has “expanded to encompass offerings in every direction, both large and small. It would take a museum several years to build a collection of the magnitude to which the memorial has grown.”[2] Because of how carefully and thoughtfully it has been tended, the artistic artifacts it has held, and the social significance of what it represents, this memorial is a fruitful starting point for reflecting on the arts. In this paper, I will seek to understand some of the key values and features of this memorial and its history, and reflect on them in conversation with other thinkers, in order to shine light on the unique powers and purposes of the arts.
Art, People, and Context
The guiding principles for the memorial preservation are simple, yet profound: “Caretakers operate with the guiding principles that everything is somebody’s offering and the people are more sacred than the memorial itself.”[3] Whether an offering is a masterful oil painting or a child’s work in crayon on paper, it is meaningful; and priority is always given to people over things, if there is ever a conflict. Considering two realities of the historical context in which these guidelines were established helps us understand their importance. First, the movement for racial justice that was energized by Floyd’s murder, commonly associated with the phrase “Black Lives Matter,” insisted at its best that every life mattered. In Christian theology, this ethical posture is rooted in the belief that all humans are made in the image of God (Gen 1:27). Second, as protests took place around the country in major cities, there was national discussion about what place the destruction of property had in protest. While it was common for people to issue blanket condemnations about the protests and equate them with riots,[4] others questioned why there seemed to be more anger about things being broken than about lives being lost (and many questioned the narrative about protesters being responsible for most of the violence).[5] As conversations around these issues swirled, the guiding principles of the George Floyd Memorial (GFM) reflected the highest aims of the racial justice movement. They insisted on the intrinsic value of all lives, and valued art while still prioritizing people over things.
By correlating (though not equating) the value of people’s offerings with the intrinsic value of each person, the GFM reminds us that art expresses and represents something of the artist or artists. While some traditions have unhelpfully idealized the solitary artist obsessed with self-expression (theologian and musician Jeremy S. Begbie refers to this sensibility as the “expressivist” outlook),[6] it is nevertheless true that our artistic creations represent something of ourselves: our thinking, our training, our bodies, our histories, and other contextual aspects of our lives. The care with which offerings are treated at the GFM powerfully communicates the ideal that people are worthy of time and attention and care. For Christians, practicing care for physical offerings like those at the GFM could function as a spiritual discipline that roots us in the love of God for all people.
The context in which people create is also significant for our engagement with the arts. For example, Jeremy S. Begbie argues that our analysis and experience of music will be lacking if we treat it as “fundamentally about works, usually written down, treated as self-contained objects that can be understood, to a large extent at any rate, without thinking about what gave rise to them, the composer’s circumstances, the way they have been interpreted, the way people react to them, and so on.”[7] We can transpose this insight into our thinking about other art forms. Consider a child’s drawing of George Floyd with crayons on paper, offered at the memorial. Such an artifact might not be found on display in many art museums, and might seem of no extraordinary importance if the context is not considered; but it may have a unique beauty and healing power when offered in a spirit of gentle innocence at a place haunted by violence. It also may be something that is worthy of being preserved and displayed.
Appreciating context and judging art on its own terms is important because of the diversity of the created order. In Christian theology, the diversity of God’s good creation implies that different styles and genres of art need not be in competition.[8] Those who over-police the boundaries between “high” and “low” art, or “functional” and “pure” art, are in danger of a truncated and dehumanized experience of the arts. This is not to deny that some art will have more aesthetic integrity than other art; but it is to agree with Harold M. Best that we are invited to “a more comprehensive way of integrating all the supposed anomalies and contradictions in human creativity[.]”[9] Our experiences of the arts are enriched and enlarged as we appreciate and are curious about the diversity of the created order.
We have explored how the arts represent something of ourselves, and how the diversity of the contexts in which art is created and received factor into the meaning we find in it; but it is also important to remember that our artistic creations are not identical with ourselves. For this reason, the second guiding principle for caretakers of the memorial states: “people are more sacred than the memorial itself.” Here we find another ethical imperative connected to art. The importance of the arts is both real and limited. In terms of Christian theology, art can become an idol when it overshadows love of neighbor. If we are worth more than sparrows (Matt 10:31), we are surely worth more than art as well. There may be disagreements on if and when the arts and the sacredness of human life are in conflict,[10] and these will often require communal discernment;[11] but the principle that human life is more sacred than a non-living entity like a physical memorial is hard to dispute. To relativize the importance of art communicates a powerful moral truth about human dignity, especially at times when property and things seem to be treated as more important than people.
Art and Community
The arts both create and express community. When people leave their offerings at the GFM, and see those offerings honored, they feel included and connected to a community and a cause. Similarly, in the Old Testament, people eagerly brought offerings to be used for the construction of the Tabernacle and Temple, which represented the Israelite community (Ex. 35:29; 1 Chron. 29). Spatial distance is even transcended to some degree when something of ourselves is left in another location. Tellingly, during the COVID pandemic, many baseball fans were eager to pay for pictures of themselves or their friends and family to be placed in the stands while games were played in virtually empty stadiums.[12] It helped them feel connected to their favorite team, even when they could not physically be there.
Not only do people feel included by the arts, but the arts can express and shape the ethos that keeps a community together. What Begbie says of music is true of the other arts: “music not only reflects and emerges out of our social-cultural world but up to a point it also constructs it.”[13] One reason the arts can do this is because they can carry a “surplus of meaning” that goes beyond words alone.[14] Consider the statue of a raised black fist at George Floyd Square, created by artist Jordan Powell-Karis. In one simple statue, multiple associations come to most American minds almost immediately when we see it: courage, resistance, determination, rising up, strength, unity, black history, and surely more. Or consider floral arrangements laid on the ground that inspire gentleness and peace; or a drawing of George Floyd that took time, care, and attention to complete, tacitly reminding us to be attentive and careful with human bodies in general. Fred Evans articulates this reality well: “art does more than merely provide a lesson or entertainment. It often sends a condensed shock of recognition through us that provokes us to repeat in thought, language, or action what its more immediate presence is suggesting.”[15] The condensed power of the arts makes them potent for forming and sustaining communal identity and action. There is truth in the adage that “a picture is worth a thousand words.”
Art and Healing
The GFM exists at a place where great trauma occurred, a murder which represents the “open wound” of racism in America (to use a phrase from Phil Allen Jr.).[16] What can the memorial teach us about the healing power of the arts, the face of such trauma? Healing was what Jeanelle Austin sought, as she provided that initial leadership for the memorial. In an interview with Austin, Ashley Tyner writes, “For Austin, the act of gathering flowers into neat piles and tidying objects like teddy bears, paintings, candles, rosaries, and framed prayers was an attempt at personal healing during a period of heavy turmoil. Sweeping the streets and clearing trash became ‘an act of social resistance and self-care,’ she says.”[17]
Austin’s experience of seeking healing in this way demonstrates how one of the unique powers of the arts is to “concretize” what is otherwise intangible.[18] The arts help us find and make meaning in situations that are disorienting and painful. Take for instance the biblical psalms. It is noteworthy that psalmists turned to poetry to express and process their laments. Or take Elton John’s performance of “Candle in the Wind” at the funeral of Princess Diana, and how the song helped express a nation’s grief.
Another power of the arts is connected to the idea of ritual. Psychologist Theresa Rando defines ritual simply as “a specific behavior or activity which gives symbolic expression to certain feelings and thoughts of the actor or actors individually or as a group.”[19] Austin’s rituals of cleaning and organizing appear to have been a way for her to tangibly express and feel the value of black lives (like her own). Ritual is related to art because it is an embodied form of symbolic communication,[20] and can concretize what might otherwise be abstract. For example, when we cannot speak to or touch a loved one who has passed, cleaning their gravestone or putting their picture in a nice frame can be a way of physically feeling and enacting our love.
Ritual has been connected to healing across cultures and history. In the Bible, a healing ritual with oil is prescribed (Jas 5:14). Anthropologist Victor Turner concluded that ritual helps humans move through liminal spaces, as they move from a past reality into a new one.[21] In the disorientation of the murder of George Floyd, rituals could help people move through the grief in ways that connected them to community, hope, and wholeness.
Conversations about healing should acknowledge that there are both individual aspects to healing and societal or systemic aspects. Theologian Jurgen Moltmann, writing about personal and system change, puts it well: “Personal, inner change without a change in circumstances and structures is an idealist illusion, as though man were only a soul and not a body as well. But a change in external circumstances without inner renewal is a materialist illusion, as though man were only a product of his social circumstances and nothing else.”[22] Psychotherapist James Hillman writes, “My practice tells me that I can no longer distinguish clearly between neurosis of self and neurosis of world.”[23] In other words, we need to be aware of how social problems and pressures detract from an individual’s health. Black activist, writer and musician Andre Henry poignantly laments, “I asked for a revolution. They gave me a Zoloft prescription.”[24] Art therapist Dan Hook argues that the practice of art therapy needs to take larger questions of social justice into consideration in order to be effective. The GFM represents the integration of personal wellness and social justice through art, such as when the Aztec dance group Kalpulli Yaocenoxtli came to dance at the memorial.[25] Community is also important. In a country where loneliness and isolation are leading causes of health problems,[26] the healing potential of communal art ought to be emphasized and explored.
Art can take some of the sting out of social ills by creating an alternative world. Ashley Tyner writes, “Like other autonomous zonesbefore it, GFS demonstrates a community’s vision of the kind of world it longs for. It is a world-making project, focused on marking new historical chapters as the mainstream cultural discourse begins to recognize the harm and distortion underlying old American monuments and memorials.”[27] Art can prophetically testify to a better possible world. Living in that alternative world even for a short time can instill a renewed sense of hope for the future, and begin to loosen the grip oppressive structures have on our hearts and minds. The experience of beauty exposes the deficiency of ugly, dehumanizing forces.
Art and Memory
A key feature of the GFM is the preservation of memory. Tyner recounts a specific instance: “Fire Arts also shared the gallery in the front of its building so that Austin could create a ‘re-memory space,’ uplifting select offerings from the memorial as an exhibition. The goal of this pop-up gallery was to educate visitors of the Square and bring people back, emotionally, to the first days of protest so that the feeling and history won’t be forgotten.”[28] Humans have always used physical artifacts to preserve memories and pass on stories. One of many biblical examples is when stones from the Jordan River are stacked to remind the Israelites in in the future that God had parted the waters for them to cross over (Josh 4:1-9). In many homes, pictures, trinkets, and things children have made are placed throughout the house to tell the story of a person or family.
Art can capture something of the feeling of a time or place. For example, Beethoven’s Eroica symphony is representative of some of the general optimism about political progress among many in Europe at the time (though Beethoven famously recanted the dedication to Napoleon Bonaparte when his imperial ambitions became apparent).[29] Art can preserve something of the way something felt. Cecilia González-Andrieu writes, “Creative works engender wonder in us because they effectively pass along someone else’s experience of wonder in a way that approximates such experiences.”[30]
Art also reflects and shapes our interpretations of history. History does not interpret itself. As theologian and missionary Lesslie Newbigin said, “All writing of history involves selection among the vast mass of possible material. This selection has to be on the basis of what is significant from the point of view of the story which the historian has to tell.”[31] An artist has the opportunity to decide what is significant in a historical moment, and create something to capture that significance. In the wake of George Floyd’s death, where pushes and counter-pushes for racial justice were being made, art was at the center of competing visions of American history. Controversy erupted over the appropriateness of Confederate monuments.[32] At the center of the controversy was what the monuments meant. Were they monuments to racism, or only the values of military valor and Southern culture? And whose perspective on history did they tell? At the GFM, the creation of new art helped tell a story that acknowledged and lamented America’s history of racial injustice, and honored those who struggled for justice. Stories have incredible power to shape our thoughts and move us to action.[33] Preserving this art can be seen as an attempt to keep racial justice advocacy from becoming just a temporary fad. Today, as people are sorting through the vast amounts of information and opinions available to us, and trying to make ethical choices, society need artists who can sort through the array of information, and use their medium to highlight the right issues and tell the right stories.
Concluding Reflections
We have surveyed some of the key lessons we can learn from the GFM about art. Art expresses something of those who create it, and this means there are ethical considerations related to how we treat and receive art. At the same time, art should not be idolized. Art also powerfully expresses and shapes community. It can be used for healing and making sense of history. Now, let us consider some applications of these ideas.
First, the promotion of local art is a worthy goal. If art is connected to people and contexts and communities, our unprecedented access to art and music and literature from around the world may have the unhelpful effect of dehumanizing some of our experience of the arts. If we do not know the stories of artists, or forget the power of live music, or allow what is popular and marketable on a mass scale have too much influence on our creative choices, we are losing something. The GFM reminds us that there is beauty in slowing down and seeing people and their contexts. And there is unique beauty and inspiration to be found in all manner of genres and contexts.
Second, we should not let the “expressivist outlook” have a monopoly on our imaginations. The interconnectedness of human beings reminds us that there are limitations to the solitary artist. Something greater and more meaningful can often be achieved when there is communal input, discernment, and participation. Communal art projects can be powerful, and even individual artists creating on their own may benefit from being accountable to the discernment of their communities.
Third, art should play an important role in justice advocacy. Art can capture a message or a value succinctly and potently, and be transmit it quickly. Those advocating for positive social change should consider how the arts can be used effectively to tell a story and create an alternate world. This also involves combatting propaganda art that is used for nefarious purposes.
Fourth, we should embrace ritual, and recognize how deeply human it is. While human cultures have always used ritual to help people navigate the major questions and events of life and death, certain mental habits of Modernity make many of us skeptical of it. This skepticism is preventing us from taking advantage of a very helpful tool for coping with life in healthy ways. Without ritual, we often do not know how to express grief in communal ways, or mark important life transitions in ways that give us closure. We may think we have transcended the need for some of the habits of our forbearers because of our technological progress and sophistication, but in reality, there was timeless wisdom behind many of these practices.
These are only a few possible applications. Others may surely find additional inspiration from the GFM. This site of tragedy has become a place of generativity, healing, and community. One can hope that more will use some of these principles for the edification of people, communities, and nations.
Works Cited Bibliography
Abdallah, Amy F. Davis. Meaning in the Moment: How Rituals Help Us Move Through Joy, Pain, and Everything in Between. Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2023.
Allen, Phil. Open Wounds: A Story of Racial Tragedy, Trauma, and Redemption. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 2021.
Begbie, Jeremy S. Resounding Truth: Christian Wisdom in the World of Music. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2007.
Best, Harold M. Music Through the Eyes of Faith. New York, HarperCollins, 1993.
Center for Disease Control. “Health Effects of Social Isolation and Loneliness.” https://www.cdc.gov/social-connectedness/risk-factors/index.html.
Evans, Fred. Public Art and the Fragility of Democracy: An Essay in Political Aesthetics. New York: Columbia University Press, 2019.
Glass, Herbert. “Symphony No. 3, ‘Eroica.’” Los Angeles Philharmonic. https://www.laphil.com/musicdb/pieces/3969/symphony-no-3-eroica.
González-Andrieu, Cecilia. Bridge to Wonder: Art as a Gospel of Beauty. Waco: Baylor University Press, 2012.
Haberman, Maggie, and Alexander Burns. “Trump’s Looting and ‘Shooting’ Remarks Escalate Crisis in Minneapolis.” New York Times, last updated June 1, 2020. https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/29/us/politics/trump-looting-shooting.html.
Henry, Andre. “I Asked for Revolution. I Got a Zoloft Prescription.” Medium (blog). https://andrehenry.medium.com/i-asked-for-revolution-i-got-a-zoloft-prescription- cc11d030518a.
Hocoy, Dan. “Art Therapy as a Tool for Social Change: A Conceptual Model.” in Art Therapy and Social Action,edited by FrancesKaplan, 21-39. London: Jessica Kingsley Pub., 2007.
Moltmann, Jurgen. The Crucified God. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015.
Newbigin, Lesslie. The Gospel in a Pluralist Society. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1989.
Rando, Theresa A. Grief, Dying, and Death: Clinical Interventions for Caregivers. Champaign, IL: Research Press Company, 1984.
Renken, Elena. “How Stories Connect And Persuade Us: Unleashing The Brain Power Of Narrative.” National Public Radio, April 11, 2020. https://www.npr.org/sections/health- shots/2020/04/11/815573198/how-stories-connect-and-persuade-us-unleashing-the-brain- power-of-narrative.
Rise and Remember. Accessed April 28, 2025. https://riseandremember.org.
Samuel, Sigal. “The false choice between helping Notre Dame and helping poor people.” Vox, April 20, 2019. https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/20/18507964/notre-dame- cathedral-fire-charity-donations.
Shaikan, Bill. “Dodgers to sell seats outfitted with cutouts of fans’ faces.” Los Angeles Times, July 14, 2020. https://www.latimes.com/sports/dodgers/story/2020-07-14/dodgers-sell- seats-outfitted-with-cutouts-of-fans-faces
Solnit, Rebecca. “As the George Floyd protests continue, let's be clear where the violence is coming from.” The Guardian, June 1, 2020. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/jun/01/george-floyd-riots-violence- damage-property-police-brutality.
Swanson, Kirsten. “Aztec dance group uses art as activism in the wake of George Floyd's death.” KSTP.COM, last updated February 1, 2021. https://kstp.com/kstp-news/top-news/aztec- dance-group-uses-art-as-activism-in-the-wake-of-george-floyd39s-death/.
Taylor, Alan. “The Statues Brought Down Since the George Floyd Protests Began.” The Atlantic, July 2, 2020. https://www.theatlantic.com/photo/2020/07/photos-statues- removed-george-floyd-protests-began/613774/.
Turner, Victor. The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. First edition. London: Taylor and Francis, 2017.
Tyner, Ashley. "What Does It Mean to Build—And Preserve—a George Floyd Memorial?" Vogue, April 29, 2021. https://www.vogue.com/article/george-floyd- memorial.
Webber, Robert E. Worship Old and New. Revised edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2009.
[1] Ashley Tyner, "What Does It Mean to Build—And Preserve—a George Floyd Memorial?" Vogue, April 29, 2021, https://www.vogue.com/article/george-floyd-memorial.
[2] “About,” Rise and Remember, accessed April 29, 2025, https://riseandremember.org/about/.
[3] “Memorial Preservation,” Rise and Remember, accessed April 28, 2025, https://riseandremember.org/memorial-preservation/.
[4] Maggie Haberman and Alexander Burns, “Trump’s Looting and ‘Shooting’ Remarks Escalate Crisis in Minneapolis,” New York Times, last updated June 1, 2020, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/29/us/politics/trump-looting-shooting.html.
[5] Rebecca Solnit, “As the George Floyd protests continue, let's be clear where the violence is coming from,” The Guardian, June 1, 2020, https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/jun/01/george-floyd-riots-violence-damage-property-police-brutality.
[6] Jeremy S. Begbie, Resounding Truth: Christian Wisdom in the World of Music (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2007), 38.
[7] Jeremy S. Begbie, Resounding Truth, 39.
[8] Harold M. Best, Music Through the Eyes of Faith (New York, HarperCollins, 1993), 25.
[9] Harold M. Best, Music Through the Eyes of Faith, 24.
[10] For a contemporary example, see Sigal Samuel, “The false choice between helping Notre Dame and helping poor people,” Vox, April 20, 2019, https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/4/20/18507964/notre-dame-cathedral-fire-charity-donations.
[11] I once asked artist Makoto Fujimura if it was ethical for me to ask my community to help me buy an expensive keyboard for my own artistic endeavors, when the money could be used to help the poor. He counseled me that there was wisdom in letting my community decide for me. A community can help us discern if we are called to use our artistic gifts to celebrate the image of God by edifying of our communities through art.
[12] Bill Shaikan, “Dodgers to sell seats outfitted with cutouts of fans’ faces,” Los Angeles Times, July 14, 2020, https://www.latimes.com/sports/dodgers/story/2020-07-14/dodgers-sell-seats-outfitted-with-cutouts-of-fans-faces.
[13] Jeremy S. Begbie, Resounding Truth, 44.
[14] Jeremy S. Begbie, Resounding Truth, 50.
[15] Fred Evans, Public Art and the Fragility of Democracy: An Essay in Political Aesthetics (New York: Columbia University Press, 2019), 17.
[16] Phil Allen, “Open Wounds: A Story of Racial Tragedy, Trauma, and Redemption,” (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 2021).
[17] Ashley Tyner, "What Does It Mean to Build—And Preserve—a George Floyd Memorial?" https://www.vogue.com/article/george-floyd-memorial.
[18] Fred Evans, Public Art and the Fragility of Democracy, 15.
.
[19] Theresa A. Rando, Grief, Dying, and Death: Clinical Interventions for Caregivers (Champaign, IL: Research Press Company, 1984). Quoted in Amy F. Davis Abdallah, Meaning in the Moment: How Rituals Help Us Move Through Joy, Pain, and Everything in Between (Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press, 2023),4.
[20] Robert E. Webber, Worship Old and New, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2009), Chap. 21, Logos.
[21] Victor Turner, The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure, First edition (London: Taylor and Francis, 2017), Chapter 3, Liminality and Communitas.
[22] Jurgen Moltmann, The Crucified God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2015), 26-27.
[23] Dan Hocoy, “Art Therapy as a Tool for Social Change: A Conceptual Model,” in Art Therapy and Social Action,edited by FrancesKaplan, 21-39 (London: Jessica Kingsley Pub., 2007), 26.
[24] Andre Henry, “I Asked for Revolution. I Got a Zoloft Prescription,” Medium (blog), https://andrehenry.medium.com/i-asked-for-revolution-i-got-a-zoloft-prescription-cc11d030518a.
[25] Kirsten Swanson, “Aztec dance group uses art as activism in the wake of George Floyd's death,” KSTP.COM, last updated February 1, 2021, https://kstp.com/kstp-news/top-news/aztec-dance-group-uses-art-as-activism-in-the-wake-of-george-floyd39s-death/.
[26] Center for Disease Control, “Health Effects of Social Isolation and Loneliness,” https://www.cdc.gov/social-connectedness/risk-factors/index.html.
[27] Ashley Tyner, "What Does It Mean to Build—And Preserve—a George Floyd Memorial?" https://www.vogue.com/article/george-floyd-memorial.
[28] Ashley Tyner. "What Does It Mean to Build—And Preserve—a George Floyd Memorial?" https://www.vogue.com/article/george-floyd-memorial.
[29] Herbert Glass, “Symphony No. 3, ‘Eroica,’” https://www.laphil.com/musicdb/pieces/3969/symphony-no-3-eroica.
[30] Cecilia González-Andrieu, Bridge to Wonder: Art As a Gospel of Beauty (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2012), 43.
[31] Lesslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1989), 58.
[32]See Alan Taylor, “The Statues Brought Down Since the George Floyd Protests Began,” https://www.theatlantic.com/photo/2020/07/photos-statues-removed-george-floyd-protests-began/613774/.
[33]Elena Renken, “How Stories Connect And Persuade Us: Unleashing The Brain Power Of Narrative,” https://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2020/04/11/815573198/how-stories-connect-and-persuade-us-unleashing-the-brain-power-of-narrative.
