Nonprofit Storytelling

Humans are storytellers by nature. It’s in our DNA. We evolved by telling and listening to stories. It's how we made sense of the world, passed down knowledge, and built community. We are, quite literally, made of stories.

I heard so many family stories as I was growing up. Tales of dress making, of gardens, of fishing, of hardship, of laughter around the table. These stories weren’t just entertainment; they were how I learned where I came from and who I was. They’re still woven into my being today.

The truth is, stories are in everything; in what we wear, how we decorate our homes, the way we introduce ourselves, the words we choose, the foods we cook. Whether we realize it or not, storytelling is the meaning of life. It's how we connect, and listening to the stories of others makes us better people.

Traveling, reading, and simply staying open; these acts expand our empathy. Listening to stories connects us to people we may never have understood otherwise. Every time we listen deeply to someone else's story, we become a little kinder and a little more human. We also learn that we are all fundamentally alike and that everyone has something to teach and something to learn.

But here’s where it gets tricky: As children, we listened to the stories told around us, but without the full context. We didn’t know that the way people treated us or spoke to us was shaped by their inner stories. And because we didn’t know how to interpret it, we often built our own inner stories that weren’t necessarily true, but we carried them anyway.

My whole life, I believed I was lazy, that I didn’t work hard enough, that I wasn’t worthy of the positions I held. That belief was rooted in conversations I overheard and comments my stressed-out mother made. All of which were viewed through the uneducated lens of an 8-year-old who couldn’t tell what was truth or what was hyperbole.  Now that I’m in my 50s, I understand that none of those internal beliefs were true; however, they shaped how I viewed every opportunity and every challenge. Those stories kept me in a place of scarcity thinking for a long time.

Which is why we have to ask ourselves sometimes:

What if the story I believe about myself isn’t even true?

How Storytelling Can Help Us (and Our Organizations)

If we’re wired for storytelling, the next question is: How do we use that to our advantage?

One tool that has been particularly powerful for me is the use of interpretive methodology. During my early career, I received training in informal interpretation. To quote the great Sam Ham, “Interpretation is making the ordinary extraordinary.” It’s a way of presenting information that uses a theme in addition to the topic.  The topic might be "bears," but the theme would be "how bears survive the winter."

In a work setting, the topic might be "budget," but the theme might actually be "how we cut 10% without losing momentum." Once you know the theme, the whole interaction shifts; you’re focused. You’re connected to the real need.

Sometimes, of course, you don’t know the theme until you’re already in the middle of it. Like when I met with a donor and realized our connection wasn’t going to come from the fundraising goal we were discussing. It was going to come through quilts.

Because I grew up in a quilting family, I could speak her language. I could understand her story, which is the very best way to connect with anyone. I walked away from that interaction without ever discussing the fundraising need, and this donor walked into the nature center a day later with a large check that would allow us to purchase an acre of land to bring into the protected nature center lands. 

When we open up and connect on a personal level — sharing bits of our own authentic story — that's where the magic happens.

Life Through a Messy Lens

Everyone views life through a messy, complicated lens. Someone might come off as angry, impatient, or overly cheerful, but usually, it’s not about you. It’s about their internal story.

Once, a young man called our organization and cursed out the front desk staff because he was furious about our new $5/day parking fees. I asked for his number and called him back. I learned that his anger wasn’t really about the $5 fee. It was about feeling like life kept handing him small injustices, one after another. That $5 was just the latest one. After I shared with him the fact that we had a number of member levels (members park for free) and that he qualified for our “Access for All” Membership which was $10/year with free parking and all the other member benefits at higher levels, he was enthusiastic that he could become a member and support the place he loved so much. 

If I hadn’t called him and been willing to have what could be called a hard conversation, his story would have forever included that my organization didn’t care about him, and mine would have included that someone was angry with us, but you can’t win them all. However, if we can detach from our own internal stories in those moments and just listen — really listen — the conversation becomes completely different. It becomes about healing, not arguing, which changes the story entirely. 

Understanding Each Other’s Stories

Connection is especially important with our coworkers. And sometimes, the way they see us isn’t anything like how we see ourselves.

Early in my career, I popped into a program being led by another staff member. I just planned to observe for a few minutes and be on my way. It never occurred to me that twenty-five-year-old me was at all intimidating. However, as soon as the staff member spotted me, they fumbled their program. It took me a few beats to realize it was because I was there. I remember being shocked and confused. However, when we debriefed, I learned that she had me on a bit of a pedestal. I was her supervisor, after all. It was a really important lesson for me to learn that how I’m viewed is not the same way I view myself, and that I needed to be much more aware of the subtle power dynamics around leadership. 

Once I spoke with a new executive director who was furious that her staff wanted her to attend their programs. She was overwhelmed and thinking, Don’t they realize how busy I am? Don’t they know that I’m out raising money and don’t have time to watch them teach? But the staff weren’t trying to add to her plate — they were inviting her to see their stories. They needed her to truly see them and be a part of their stories. The only way to overcome these types of misunderstandings is by communicating with each other. Sharing stories. Checking in to see what’s really true.

In the end, it all comes down to this: Our stories shape our lives. Our ability to listen to other people’s stories shapes our communities.

When we stay open-hearted and curious, we don't just tell better stories. We build a better world.