A INVITATION TO
TRANSFORMATIVE STORYTELLING
Principles
1. All humans are storytellers, and the stories we tell shape the possibilities we can imagine
Since communication began, human beings have woven together experiences and interpretations of those experiences in attempts to make meaning - we call these attempts “stories” (even if they may not be “narratives”); and of course they can be told through words, images, and sounds, written down, spoken, sung, danced, painted, photographed, and beyond. We tell stories as writers, artists, musicians, filmmakers, therapists, lawyers, teachers, activists and more.
We can organize those stories around interpretations that cling to certainty and fixed mindsets, or we can organize around interpretations that play with reframing, perspective shifting, and even restructuring the very idea of what makes a story in order to invite more possibilities.
2. Storytelling is a communal process
Our stories are made up of language, symbols, motifs and rhythms that are products of culture, time, and place. We cannot tell a story without borrowing from the knowledge we’ve been given or acquired.
Storytelling requires an audience - even a story we’re telling ourselves has one part of us in conversation with another. The best stories cannot be exclusively self-serving, but reflect some benefit for the common good. The best stories also imply spaciousness, inviting others’ perspectives into our own to add dimension, complexity and diversity.
3. We never know when a story is over, especially when we’re in it.
We maintain the right to revise, edit, expand, continue and change the stories we tell. Even if we publish them and fix them in time, we can always revisit them or write new ones when they cease working for us. At the same time, we acknowledge that stories, once shared, are no longer ours alone to change. Stories have their own lives and their own alchemies once released in the world.
4. The best stories are honest about both hard and beautiful realities.
While we applaud a positive outlook, we also seek stories that reveal injustice, grief, and sadness and that have room for redemption, change, or growth.
5. Storytelling is the shared vocation of humanity.
The capacity to tell stories may be the defining characteristic of humanity — and, for some, may reflect a unique connection with the sacred. If our shared journey is to live into mutual recognition and mutual flourishing, the stories we tell and live are our primary instruments.
6. Our commitment is to transformative storytelling.
Transformative stories expand the circle of belonging and move us from scapegoating, selfishness, and separation toward responsibility, sharing, creativity, courage, and community.
Transformative storytelling, as we use the term, is concerned with:
the content of the story being told
the transformation of the audience in bearing witness to the story
the transformation of the storyteller in the process of crafting and sharing the story
and the transformation of relationships between the storyteller, themselves, and the audience
The transformative stories we seek to tell trouble the distinctions between simplistic notions of “us versus them” thinking, while still taking seriously that real power imbalances and injustices exist. While decisions about what stories to tell which audiences are always contextual, asking questions of power and privilege in relation to the stories we tell are always crucial to our work. We pay attention in our storytelling to whose voices are centered, and our relationship with those voices.
We advocate for stories that invite nuance, complexity, and disrupt narratives of both redemptive violence and redemptive suffering.
Practices
We prioritize three core practices, each open to multiple approaches:
1. Listening, observing, and learning
Storytellers are story-collectors. We intentionally and thoughtfully engage with the world, and are conscious of our commitment to hearing and acknowledging stories (both directly and indirectly). We are discerning about where we look to for the stories we hear/receive, and about how we process those stories — noting what we want to hold onto, what we want to reject, and what we want to transform.
2. Slowing down and breathing
Engaging in some spiritual practice (by that we mean attentiveness to our lived relationship to mystery), is essential for grounding our work and transcending the noise of destructive and unhelpful stories within our culture and ourselves. Stories take their meaning in bodies, and so we tend to the rhythms of our bodies — down to our very breath — that we may be sustained in our work.
3. Creating in community
For some of us, the work of creating can be isolating. Even those of us who work more collaboratively can find ourselves cut off from networks of support while we are engaging in our craft. We intentionally seek out support from and nurture other transformative storytellers, offering both encouragement and accountability. This practice may take the form of regularly participating in Porch Circles, setting time aside to create alongside other creators, or gathering with others committed to this vocation for rest, renewal, and inspiration.
