How to get your parents to talk about their past

"Tell me about your life" fails more often than it works, and it isn't because your dad had a boring life. It's because the question has no edges. Faced with sixty years and no starting point, most people do what anyone would do with an impossible essay question: say there's nothing much to say, and change the subject.

So before trying harder, it's worth separating two different problems that feel identical from the outside: a parent who's actively reluctant to be asked at all, and a parent who'd genuinely answer something specific but has nothing to say to something vague. The second is common, and it has a straightforward fix. The first needs a different approach entirely.

Why "there's nothing to tell" isn't really a no

• They think it's not worth telling. HealthLinkBC's guidance on sharing memories with older adults notes that some people assume their own experiences are unimportant and don't want to bore anyone with them — so the real barrier isn't privacy, it's modesty, and it responds to being asked specifically rather than generally.
• The question asked for a summary, not a memory. "What was it like growing up?" requires sorting and judging decades of material on the spot. "What did your mother's kitchen smell like on a Sunday?" requires nothing but remembering, which is a much easier thing to do out loud.
• A yes/no question closes the door it just opened. "Did you enjoy school?" is answerable in one word, and one word is where a lot of these conversations stop.

There's also a real, separate problem — a parent who isn't refusing to talk so much as refusing to be *interviewed*. The fix there isn't a better question, it's changing what the moment feels like: no phone held up, no notebook open, nobody visibly capturing anything. Ask in passing, while doing something else, and write it down afterwards rather than during. The how to record your parents' life story guide covers this in more depth — starting the conversation without turning it into an event is most of the work.

The phrasing that gets further

HealthLinkBC's own practical guidance is aimed at exactly this problem, and none of it is complicated. The core move is swapping a question that can be answered with a fact for an invitation to tell a story.

• Use the words "tell me". HealthLinkBC is specific on this: starting with "tell me" signals that you want a story, not an answer, which is a different thing to produce.
• Avoid anything answerable in one word. If a question could honestly be met with "yes" or "no" or "fine", rephrase it before you ask.
• Show you're listening with your body, not just your face. Sit so you're not half turned away, look at them rather than at a phone, and nod rather than filling every pause with your own comment.
• Let a pause sit. The gap after a question often feels like silence has to be filled. It's usually just someone deciding where to start.

If they've already said no to "the project"

Some families have already had the bigger conversation — "I'd like to record your life story" — and been turned down flat. That's a real no, and pushing on it converts a maybe into a permanent one. What usually hasn't been tried is something much smaller: not the project, just one question, asked once, about one specific thing, with nothing written down in front of them and no mention that it's part of anything bigger. A parent who refused "a life story" will often happily answer "what was the first record you ever bought?" — because it isn't an assignment, it's a question someone asked them in passing.

1. 1

   Pick one object or one fact, not a topic

   A photograph, a medal, a date you already half-know. A specific thing to react to is easier to answer than an open subject.

2. 2

   Ask it once, in passing, without ceremony

   Washing up, driving somewhere, waiting for a kettle. Not sitting down specially — that's what turns a question back into an event.

3. 3

   If it lands, follow it with "tell me more about that"

   The second question is usually where the actual story comes out, not the first.

4. 4

   If it doesn't land, leave it a few weeks

   A no to one question on one day isn't a no forever. Try a different, equally specific question another time rather than repeating the one that didn't work.

This is also the honest reason StoryPrompt is built the way it is, rather than as a book handed over to fill in. One specific question a week is a much smaller ask than a blank notebook or a sit-down interview — the weekly email links to a simple page where the answer is typed in — a few sentences or a few pages, at whatever length someone's comfortable with, in their own time. £25 once buys a year of those weekly questions and a book that collects the answers as they come in, downloadable throughout and afterwards. It's text, not a recording — if what you actually want is their voice captured as audio, this isn't that, and it's worth knowing before you buy.

If one specific question a week sounds like the right size for your family, see how StoryPrompt works and what it costs.