“There have been great societies that did not use the wheel, but there have been no societies that did not tell stories.” ― Ursula K. Le Guin</p> The Language of the Night: Essays on Fantasy and Science Fiction, 1979

Writing to build empathy and understanding

This week, we discussed storytelling. How stories can be used to build empathy, to make the reader pay attention, to step outside their reality, and to view with empathy the reality of another.

Stories let you shift your point of view, see things from an unfamiliar angle and — if you are paying attention — learn something you either didn’t know or could not articulate before.

We have evolved to seek out stories to help us learn, remember, and grow. They build connection, mentor us, carry us from the past into the future, and keep those we have lost close to our hearts.

Writing to understand yourself

In my first class in this certificate (Fundamentals of Learning Experience Design), we were asked to do a reflective journal. Since then, I have been trying to figure out how to use Reflective Journalling in my life, my work, and my learning.

I started out (of course I did!) by looking for articles, and reading books: How do they do it in learning environments (where they call it experiential learning)? How do they do it in healthcare (where they call it reflective practice)? Do they do it at all in libraries?

Well, after extensive research, I’m here to tell you what I found out. </p>

You tell yourself a story: characters, plot, tension (because, really, that’s why you are still thinking about whatever it is). How did it start? What did you expect? What actually happened? Then what? What did you wish you had done differently? Let’s face it. There’s always something…

But wait! That’s not all!

I mean, sure: it could be. But the real, actual learning comes when you go back, and read what you wrote. And then write about it again. Think about it in context of other incidents, both similar and dissimilar, both good and (ahem) not so good. And then?

You tell yourself another story, a different story, a story of what you will try to do next time, of who you will be next time.

And then, you’ve learned. You’ve built up a thick web of associations. You’ve made a plan, one based on your own lived experience and context, one that’s sure to work. Only, it won’t. And that’s okay: you’ve lived, you’ve learned. Sit down. Make a new plan. Figure out what to do next time.

One day, when you tell yourself (or others?) that story, it will have a new ending. It will have a takeaway. It might be a cautionary tale. But, if you share it, someone else might learn from your mistakes, too. We can level up, together, like a rising tide.

White boat on still water. Photo by Osman Rana on Unsplash)

Writing to teach others

First, you have to think about the audience for whom you are writing. Who are they? What are their interests, their problems, how can you help?

You can use this for “clickbait”, or you can use it to understand what they need: their problems, the issues they are trying to solve, why they are reading your blog. Or taking your training.

I might have called this, for example “3 ways writing helps you learn”, or maybe “3 ways to level-up your learning” (all resolving, of course, to writing and storytelling. Numbers are, apparently, the Red Wigglers — the Cadillac of worms — of the clickbait industry.

And yet…

Social media companies and advertisers have spent, literally, TRILLIONS on training people to click the bait. So, is there an ethical way to use that, to get learners to click on the bait, and then stay for the story? I wonder.

It’s something I’m going to try, I think.