What are the responsibilities of cultural outsiders who want to tell other people's stories? The literature suggests more than one approach; for an excellent overview, see Hearne (1999). I raise some of the possibilities, and leave them for you to elaborate in discussion. 

Cultural literacy

First, we should learn more than just the stories we tell. Joseph Bruchac (1997) offers some guidelines for non-Indian storytellers:

Storytellers, as Hearne (1999) points out, have a responsibility to understand the roots and contexts of the stories we pass on. In The Girl Who Dreamed Only Geese, and Other Tales of the Far North, Howard Norman (1997) describes not only his storyteller-informants but the circumstances of their narrations; he listened to multiple tellings of a given tale, by a given teller, and the versions he hands on are richly textured and nuanced. 

This depth of understanding makes interpretations more reliable. At the same time, it helps clarify attribution. Due attention to the source of a story is a form of respect; it gives credit to the originators of cultural capital. At the same time, knowing the source should help both teller and audience interpret a story wisely. In some cases, knowing the source means knowing who appropriated the tale, and why, in what circumstances. 

Teaching children to read and listen critically

Wilma Kuhlman (1999) read Little House on the Prairie with a class of mostly white fifth graders. Initially, their comments showed an uncritical acceptance of negative, stereotyped images of Indians in the book, but critical discussion helped them raise questions about whose voices were silenced in the stories, and who benefited. Kuhlman believed that it would take more than one such intervention before children developed a habit of questioning stories. 

Similarly, George Friedman's Heath Anthology of American Literaturearticle on Joel Chandler Harris suggests classroom issues and strategies for the Uncle Remus stories, and provides links to sites for African American authors. Where Wilder's portrayal of American Indians was clearly from the viewpoint of cultural outsiders -- Laura and her family -- the white Harris put his stories into the mouth of a black narrator, making it even more difficult for an unsuspicious audience to resist the stereotypes. Like Kuhlman, Friedman's strategies would encourage children to question what they hear and read.

Empathy

In a sense, however, such critical literacy works against the storytelling experience. While listening to a well-told story, it is natural to relax, to suspend disbelief, and to empathize with the story's protagonist. Roe, Alfred and Smith (1998) urge the use of storytelling to help children develop empathy "and reinforce the importance of showing compassion." And, as Hearne (1999) reminds us, stories have crossed cultural boundaries for millennia; they are constantly changed and adapted. 

Julius Lester (1998) reminds us that authenticity in storytelling must go deeper than mere surface accuracy. He asks:

What is going on in our society  that makes us need to know if a story is "authentic"? I think we are confusing the values of the "information age" with values that properly belong in the realm of knowledge. . . . Because we blur the boundary between information and knowledge, we want knowledge to be verifiable in ways that information is verifiable. But there are kinds of knowledge that cannot be put into a factoid, there are kinds of knowledge whose authenticity cannot be measured with a cultural or ethnic yardstick."

He goes on to suggest that the use of "stories as the means to teach children about other cultures" is a mistake. The intention of promoting multiculturalism is "admirable," but "The primary purpose of story is not the transmission of information. The primary purpose of story is one heart touching another."

Lester is a wise man. There is a sense in which information is static; we can be concerned with its accurate replication, and when changes creep in we say that the information has degenerated and is compromised. Stories are dynamic. They change to fit their tellers, their hearers, their worlds; they grow, they deepen, they live. When we study the roots and contexts of the stories we tell, we honor their sources and our own. When we teach children to read and listen critically, we honor their humanity and our own. In the end, I think, we must have the courage to take what we need, the imagination to adapt it to our needs, and the honesty to admit what we've done.