“If the story is not about the hearer, he will not listen. And here I make a rule — a great and interesting story is about everyone or it will not last.” —John Steinbeck, East of Eden
I'm going to take my own advice here and not assume.
Let's talk about the elements of a powerful and compelling story. And to make my point, I will tell the story of my friends Ken and Judy and an organization in New York City called Transportation Alternatives.
Someone to Root ForJudy's story is the story of Transportation Alternatives, the community they have built, and the impact they have had. My friend Judy lost her daughter Ella when Ella was hit by a New York City bus. I've known this family since Ella and our daughter Scout met weekly in a local play group. Ella was special.Judy is our protagonist. Her story is tragic. And my credibility as a messenger is high because of my personal connection. And you want to know more.
Struggle or Conflict“The only thing that kept Judy and Ken ‘alive’ was a need to do something — anything — to make that Brooklyn intersection safer. It had already been identified as one of the most dangerous in the city. But how could they get anyone to pay attention? So much bureaucracy. So much red tape. And they felt they were fighting the battle alone.”The struggle is clear. They want changes to the intersection; no one is paying attention to them.
Empathy“I admire Ken and Judy so much. This could have been my daughter. Or yours. I'd like to think that I would focus on securing a legacy for my daughter.”This is an important part. Put the listener in the shoes of that protagonist. God forbid, if you were Judy and Ken, what would you want?
How Is Your Organization Working to Solve This Problem?“Transportation Alternatives created an army of the bereaved — a community in which the words I know what you are going through really meant something. The organization worked with this group to create a goal, a different one from Ken and Judy's, one that it believed — based on their understanding of NYC politics — was actually achievable. They secured buy‐in from the army and in less than three months, the new goal was met. The speed limit in New York City was dropped from 30mph to 25mph.”What have we learned? TA was compassionate and empathetic and worked with this group to help them, to offer them hope, to help them attempt to find some good in unimaginable loss. The organization worked with the group to set a tangible goal and met it in record time. Makes you want to write a check right now, doesn't it?
Evidence of Forward Motion with New Goals“Empowered by this remarkable accomplishment, the TA army set new goals. Their next stop is the bus drivers’ union and the Taxi and Limousine Commission to tackle the issue of enforcement. And yes, there is talk of replicating this model in other cities”.
I totally get this organization. I recognize TA as caring and compassionate and also driven to make a change that honors the legacy of children taken too soon. But not only driven — smart, diplomatic, and intentional, too. It's an organization with measurable impact (speed limit) and immeasurable impact (offering hope to families broken by loss).
This is how it works.
TWO MORE EXAMPLES FOR EMPHASIS
Here are two more examples that I hope will help you in crafting your own story — one from the for‐profit sector and one from my very own backyard. Both of these stories are true.
FedEx
We all know the unique selling proposition of FedEx — to paraphrase, “absolutely, positively overnight.” Late one afternoon, a driver (let's call her Jamia) had truck trouble and it broke down. FedEx has a plan for such things (of course) and sent a replacement van. But it was stuck in traffic.
Jamia loves working for FedEx and lives its mission every day. She began to deliver a few packages on foot but could see that she would simply run out of time.
Now, I'm not sure what I would do in this circumstance — would I call my boss and say I had tried everything but that, on this day, I could not meet the delivery promise? I'd bet some people would do that.
Not Jamia. She managed to persuade a competitor's driver to take her to her last stops.
In My Own Backyard
Our twins, Ben and Kit, are thick as thieves and always have been.
When they were 5 and attended a small, progressive school in suburban New Jersey, the school officials thought maybe they were too thick. Their teachers, who knew them each so well, determined that two separate pre‐K experiences made sense.
Try telling that to Kit. She was bereft. Miserable. The sweetest kid in the world actually bit a teacher. It got pretty bad.
In other schools, a kid who bites might be removed from the class, and a kid of color might actually wind up in handcuffs when teachers call the police. Certainly, a punishment of some sort was in order.
But Kit's teachers proposed a better solution — one that was so smart, so simple, and so compassionate, I will never forget it.
Twice a week, Kit would get on the phone and call Ben's classroom and invite Ben for snack time. He'd come into the classroom and Kit would already have set out his snack crackers and juice for him. They both lit up. All was well with the world. They would chat for a while and then Ben would toddle back to his class.
I still get goose bumps when I think about how wonderful these teachers were to propose a solution like this. How much they cared.
A story like this one is golden. It speaks to the mission of the school, to what makes it a unique and special place. Even if you don't have kids, you want them to go to a place that makes these kinds of choices. Kit, as the protagonist, is clear about her challenge, and the school solves her problem in a way that honors her.
PRACTICE, KID, PRACTICE
Because storytelling does not come naturally to organizational ambassadors, as I mentioned earlier in this chapter, a nonprofit organization must work with intention to build a culture of storytelling in its organization.
Each board and staff member should understand the elements of a good story and be asked to shape their own. Here are some ideas:
Set aside time at a board meeting to ask people to share their organization stories. Have them offer each other constructive feedback and ask questions, such as, “Which story stayed with you? Does it bring the work to life? Is the impact clear?”
Hold quarterly brown bag lunches with staff to practice. Ask the simple question “What do you do, and why is it important?” and have them offer an illustration of tangible impact. Give each staffer two or three minutes, tops. Staff members not only fine‐tune their storytelling skills but also hear a variety of stories they themselves could tell.
Feed your board and staff regularly with new (current) stories about the organization that they can use when at a weekend BBQ or a fundraiser for another organization. Your best ambassadors need good, fresh material!
Ever sat at a tactical, in‐the‐weeds staff meeting for 90 minutes, then head back to your desk and realize no one told a single great story about the impact of the work of the organization?
When I suggest this to nonprofit EDs, they often seem as if it never crossed their minds. “Oh, that's a good idea!” they tell me.
So just do it. Build a culture of storytelling in your organization and it can make all the difference in the world.
In Chapter 3, I'll focus on the role of the board chair and that person's relationship