My second-grade teacher wasn’t going to let anybody get to the third grade without knowing what a chlorofluorocarbon was, and why our climate urgently needed our protection.
What I remember most about her lessons is how unfair it was that somebody could poison your air and water—and then make up a story to convince people it was okay.
I’ve devoted my career to polishing the other side of this coin: If stories can convince people to forget their own best interests, stories can help people remember them too.
I grew up in Northern Appalachia (New Jersey) amid the wave of Superfund site designations, lawsuits, cancer clusters, and public outcry over “Who’s to blame?” One Superfund site was eventually designated in the community where my parents lived and worked. Thankfully, they had the privilege and resources to move away when I was a baby. Not everyone did.
Many Southern Appalachian communities face exactly this kind of unfairness. In fact, Southern Appalachia is one of the last places in America where it’s not only socially acceptable, but socially celebrated to disparage both the people and the place. To overcome this, we story-tellers must remind our communities that our environment is valuable and worth protecting, and that what’s happening isn’t “natural,” “deserved,” or less important or less harmful than the environmental damage that impacts more affluent and politically powerful communities.
Margaret Atwood said the only rule of story-telling is “Hold my attention.” This is my leading edge. There’s no formula though; it’s a practice. I’m constantly engaged in a cycle of audience research and message testing to find effective words, messages, metaphors, and calls to action. I read constantly to see what’s working for my peers, and I’m a relentless experimenter.
People are easily overwhelmed by the scope, complexity, and power imbalances baked into environmental challenges. To combat this, I produce stories that empower people with facts, remind them of their values, and invoke their identity to move them to action.