The Sunday Afternoon Project, an Austin nonprofit dedicated to diversity, identity, and storytelling, is looking for a 100-person cohort to record and analyze stories about who they really are, starting in September 2024.

In a fun and thoughtful initiative called the Fearless Storytelling Lab, cohort members will kick things off with an interview by the co-founders, husbands Luis Gramajo and Hans Schrei, who also founded the former Austin bakery Wunderkeks.

The Sunday Afternoon Foundation has run storytelling workshops and talks at Google and South by Southwest, and is in talks with other large organizations about adapting the process. With Wunderkeks, the cofounders also participated in Austin's SKU incubator and participated in its pitch competition.

Although Wunderkeks' cookies were delicious, the heart of its appeal was excellent branding. Customers really took the theme of being yourself to heart — especially from the gay Guatemalan immigrants — making them especially qualified to run a storytelling workshop.

Using each interview transcript, Gramajo and Schrei generate an objective AI analysis in the form of a fairytale, and help participants over one, four, or eight hour-long sessions to refine and share that story with the world — anywhere and as much as they want.

It's not really about the story, but gamifying how we talk about ourselves through abstraction: Did the story reflect what a participant really meant? Should they adopt a fun new phrasing? Or should they change how they're presenting their story to eliminate unintended implications?

"Going to the world and getting people to trust you is a lot about how what you say aligns with what you are," says Schrei, "because otherwise the cracks are going to show. The problem that we have identified is that a lot of us don't really have that skill ... because we are told that this is the way we should talk. These are the things that we say. These are the things that we're supposed to be, as opposed to who we are."

Creating the story
Gramajo is the definition of a people person. Part of Wunderkeks' success was his ability to befriend notable creatives — actor Busy Philipps, musician Dan Reynolds, and other storytellers (including your favorite CultureMap editor, who wrote about their Austin launch). His outgoing spirit and Schrei's analytical mind are the engine that push the process beyond an AI trick, into what's essentially a marketing intensive, whether participants want it for professional or personal use.

Gramajo's hour-long introductory interview is like a personality test the founders say they've developed over eight months, and all a participant has to do is answer honestly. I tried a shortened first session of the Storytelling Lab to see how it went.

As Gramajo and Schrei predicted, there were some things I liked, and some I would have to correct, which is what provides the arc of the course for people who go all the way.

Story results
Starting with the particularly apt, I enjoyed the way the program interpreted "I write about music and food and all that." (Yikes..not a super eloquent start.) Pulling from more than that one underwhelming quote, it gave me the much more charming phrasing, "In the vibrant kingdom of Austin, there lived a young sorceress named Brianna, whose magic lay not in grand illusions or powerful spells, but in her ability to distill the essence of ideas and share them with others. From an early age, Brianna felt drawn to the realm's most peculiar melodies, flavors, and stories, sensing that these were the true treasures of her homeland."

One glaring problem is that I didn't grow up in Austin, but this is actually the story doing its job of exposing our own lack of clarity; Maybe I should be bringing up my transplant status when I talk about these things.

I was also impressed, stylistically, with how it explained some of Austin's rapid development problems, although I do wonder where it got this idea. I did say that I like to champion weirdness amid the mainstream, but the story inserted some additional specifics.

It said, "As Brianna grew, she noticed that some of Austin's most unique customs were fading away, overshadowed by the glittering towers of progress." I suspect the AI pulled this narrative from the internet at large, where there's no shortage of complaints about glittering towers in this town.

The program dubbed me the "Keeper of Curious Flames," which I also enjoyed, and named my life in general a "Sanctuary of Curious Flames," which is increasingly true as I continue my Craigslist and junktiques devotion. I may have to remember this one and get a sign made up for my house, or something. I'll put it next to the disembodied mannequin arms I got at the City Wide Vintage Sale.

Finally, I liked the whimsy it added to what I named as an ongoing personal challenge: how to take bolder risks while also sometimes accepting safer, more practical choices. "Yet even as her power grew, Brianna struggled with an inner conflict: part of her longed to take greater risks, to push the boundaries of her magic further, while another part feared the chaos such actions might bring. In a moment of clarity, Brianna realized that true magic lay not in reckless action or rigid control, but in finding balance between the two."

Deciding what not to share
Something participants should note, and the reason I'm not sharing the story in its entirety, is that it's very difficult to separate personal values from the actions of a professional team once the AI has gotten a hold of things. Because everything is organized into one metaphorical journey, there is no differentiation between the choices I make, say, at the grocery store, versus the choices I make when I log in for the day. If a participant were a vegan, but worked at a restaurant downtown, it may imply that the restaurant deals in vegan food.

However, this would likely not be an issue for someone who owns their business, or anyone who is participating in the workshop with the primary intent to represent their work life. This test was, of course, an edge case, and there would be plenty of time to tweak it in the next seven sessions.

The first draft of the story is only meant as a launchpad for further discussions, and Schrei emphasizes that not oversharing is actually part of the training. Because of the founders' backgrounds, this is central to the organization's work. Marginalized people are often expected to answer inappropriately intimate questions about their struggles, and this workshop is about identifying what you want to share in various settings, and how — not sharing everything at once.

"The fact that there is a very complex truth, doesn't mean that they should be sharing every single facet of that," says Schrei. "There are layers to sharing your story. ... There's a version that you're willing to share with everyone, there's a version that you're gonna share with us, and there's a version that you're gonna share with just that one or two very, very, very close people."

Happily ever after
I love my story on a personal level, and more importantly, my chat with the founders was centering and actually almost stumped me a few times. It gave me a lot to think about regarding goals and how to distill them, and I might have to hang this story on the wall somewhere in my Sanctuary of Curious Flames.

Anyone who is interested in participating in the project can reach out to Luis Gramajo at luis@sundayafternoonproject.com and Hans Schrei at hans@sundayafternoonproject.com. The full eight-hour course costs $3,750, and four-hour courses are $1,875. The first 100 participants in either length workshop will get a 20 percent discount. Interested parties are also invited to try the first hour (detailed in this article) for $375, with no further commitment and the same discount applicable. Booking is open now, and participants can choose their dates starting September 1. Groups are also invited to inquire.