Empathy: Impact Through Storytelling Vol. 3

Cheryl Miller Houser
ART + marketing
Published in
5 min readMay 1, 2018

This is the third blog post in a series based on a talk I gave at SXSW, The Empathy Effect: Impact through Storytelling. In the previous blog post I revealed how to find a story that harnesses empathy to forge deep bonds with your audience.

This post explores the second key element: how to make your story human so you can create an emotional connection with your audience.

Audiences are not moved by policy proposals, high concepts like justice, or data dumps. They are moved by people and their stories. Find people who will engage your audience emotionally, people whom your audience will identify with and root for.

By my rough calculations, I have made 300+ hours of programming. That means I have featured several thousand people in my work. It also means I have considered and not featured at least another 20,000 people. Finding the right people to bring your story to life is hard, and is the difference between content that’s gripping and genuine vs. content that no one will engage with.

Over the years I have come to realize that the people who move me deeply, and elicit the greatest empathy from viewers, share two key characteristics.

1. They show vulnerability

2. They have a clear goal with big stakes

Think about your own relationships — whom you feel closest to and when. People are most relatable when they are vulnerable…. When they let down the false façades we all construct to impress others, when they express their fears… shame… humor… love, and reveal the full range of universal human emotions. That is also how they tap into our shared humanity and reveal truths that deepen our understanding of who we are as human beings.

I saw this play out with audiences around the world across all demographics at screenings of my most recent film GENERATION STARTUP, funded by PwC Charitable Foundation and UBS and available on Netflix, iTunes, Amazon, Google and other platforms.

GENERATION STARTUP follows six recent college graduates launching startups in Detroit. As Cynthia Wade, my co-director and I, embarked on making this film, we were determined to find characters who would inspire viewers to move outside their comfort zone, find meaning in their lives, and maybe even launch companies like our characters had. This is critical, especially in cities like Detroit, because young companies create almost all new jobs, and surprisingly, entrepreneurship among young people is at a 30 year low.

The young entrepreneurs we followed are part of a fellowship program, Venture for America, which is trying to spur job growth in economically depressed cities across the US. Once Cynthia and I decided we wanted to base the film in Detroit, we interviewed on camera almost every VFA Fellow there.

High achievers just coming out of college have been primed to project confidence, and in fact most of them have also been socialized to think they can’t fail. So, many of the VFA fellows we interviewed shut down when faced with questions about their inner struggles, fears, and what they would do if things didn’t work out. Those who spoke openly were immediately relatable and moving. And though they were decades younger and many from different backgrounds than me, I felt intimately connected to them as they mirrored back to me feelings that I understood viscerally: determination and optimism at one moment followed by trepidation and self-doubt, enthusiasm mingled with worry, a desire to create something great. I felt especially empathetic to them since I was just launching my own company too at that time. That is why I was drawn to telling their stories, which in turn helped me generate empathy for an audience. That’s because the more emotionally connected you are to your story, the more you will be able to forge an emotional connection with your audience.

I have been surprised by just how much viewers around the world identify with people in the film who are nothing like them, across all boundaries of gender, race, educational and economic background, nationality. That’s what I mean about capturing the universality of our humanity through people’s personal stories and bringing issues to life through them.

I was with the film in Tunisia as part of a cultural diplomacy program with the State Department, and at a screening at a business school, a burka-clad young woman said she most identified with this character from the film.

Brian, the founder of Banza, the first-ever chickpea pasta, is vastly different from a young Muslim woman in Tunisia. But, instead of identifying most with Labib, our Muslim character, or one of the two women in the film, she identified with Brian because she saw herself in his vulnerability, and his two most salient characteristics struck a fundamental chord in her: his determination and focus. Watching his difficult journey in the movie had now given her even greater courage, drive and impetus to try to launch her own company. This is critical in Tunisia where unemployment among young people is around 30% and where demonstrators demanding jobs threaten to topple the country’s young democracy.

And just as interestingly, at a screening in the US, a young white woman from a middle class family identified intensely with Labib, whose parents emigrated from Bangladesh, had no money, and pushed their son to get an engineering degree so that he could get a stable, high paying job at a big company. This is how they reacted when he told them he was going to become employee #1 at a startup in Detroit instead.

Her favorite line from the film is Labib’s lament later. His company isn’t doing well and he’s just worked 48 hours straight when he says,

I wish I could tell my parents…what was happening in my life right now, and they wouldn’t try to judge every single thing that I do. It’s like if I really, really thought I could be okay with a, quote unquote normal life, I could settle down. But I can’t just do that.” — Labib

Thanks to Labib’s vulnerability, this woman and viewers around the world identified with his struggle to live life on his own terms rather than follow what his parents wanted him to do. His story has given them greater determination to define and pursue their own north star.

These examples demonstrate the power of profound empathy. When subjects in a story reveal their vulnerability, they tap into a sense that we are all connected through our shared humanity regardless of our gender, nationality, race, economic background, religion. This kind of empathy breaks down the silos between people, the polarizing sense of “you” and “me,” and fosters in us a sense of solidarity, a “we” that taps into our fundamental universal human feelings. From there anything is possible in terms of positive action towards each other, and inspiration from within.

In my next blog post I will explore the second element to making a story human: the powerful emotional effect on an audience when subjects have a clear goal with big stakes. Available 5/8.

Let’s Get Emotional: The Empathy Manifesto by Creative Breed.

Learn more about Creative Breed.

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