When I started my journey as a Banyan Impact Fellow, I knew I’d be working in non-profit communications, but what did that actually mean in practice? That’s something I’ve figured out along the way. If you’re stepping into a similar role, here’s a little peek into what it’s like and how I’m making sure my work isn’t just impactful for now, but actually lasts.
At Gram Vikas Trust, my role isn’t just about creating communication collaterals, it’s about building something sustainable that empowers the team to document and share stories more thoughtfully and responsibly. I focus on knowledge-sharing, capacity-building, and ensuring that the voices of communities are represented with care, accuracy, and respect.
From Individual Expertise to Shared Practice
One way I’ve done this is by shifting the approach to field documentation. Rather than recording testimonials and capturing pictures on my own, I conducted training sessions for project coordinators on visual storytelling and field representation. Every month, I provide them with storytelling cues, feedback, and guidance, ensuring they take ownership of the process, sometimes with me accompanying them on field visits, but often independently, learning by doing.
Another big step toward sustainability is the Brand Manual I’m putting together. It’s a resource book that consolidates our visual identity, documentation standards, branding and representation norms. The goal? To ensure that the work I do doesn’t fade once my Fellowship ends, but instead becomes part of the organization’s long-term communications framework.
From the Ground up
One big thing I’ve learned during my Fellowship is that if you want to stay relevant in non-profit communications, you need to evolve with the times. A lot of organizations still stick to traditional ways of communicating, but the truth is, that often ends up creating a bigger gap between them and the communities they’re trying to support. When decision-makers aren’t directly connected to people’s lived experiences, they end up relying on assumptions and stereotypes to shape their messaging, and oftentimes even their programs. That’s how outdated narratives like deficit framing and the saviour complex keep sticking around in non-profit storytelling.
But storytelling doesn’t have to work this way.
Participatory storytelling flips the script. Instead of being passive subjects, community members take charge of their own narratives, deciding how their stories should be told. This approach makes it more authentic because it centres the voices of people who are often spoken about rather than listened to.
“Everybody would agree that the best cooperation that can be provided is the one that, at some point, makes people independent of external cooperation. Everybody knows that projects fail when communities are not involved and do not take ownership of the social change process; and everybody knows that the only real guarantee for sustainability is when people appropriate a programme” – Playing with fire: power, participation, and communication for development by Alfonso Gumucio Dagron
A Real Example: Naga Women Farmers & Storytelling for Change
Watch Securing Livelihoods by North East Network
During our Midpoint conference (The Fellowship Circle: Annual Conference on Advancing Social Entrepreneurship), we were fortunate to have a session with the Northeast Network (NEN), where we watched a powerful short film on securing livelihoods. The video featured Naga women farmers who were struggling to transport their crops to the market due to the lack of proper transportation facilities.
But here’s what made it stand out: the story was told by the women themselves. Instead of an external organization framing their struggle, the women shared their experiences first-hand, how the lack of transport impacted their income, the challenges they faced, and what they needed to overcome these barriers. What struck me the most was the rawness and authenticity of the film. It wasn’t a polished documentary or a scripted advocacy piece. It was real. Their voices, their reality, told in their own way. The film was used as a proposal to the state government, demanding better transportation access for these farmers.
As someone working in non-profit communications, this reaffirmed something I strongly believe in: stories are most powerful when told by the people who live them. No written report, no second-hand narration, and no external framing can truly capture the depth of someone’s experience the way they can themselves.
A Work in Progress
Even though I’m pushing for this shift, I know it’s not something that happens overnight. Storytelling in the non-profit space is deeply tied to power, representation, and trust and changing that takes time. As much as I’d love for stories to be told entirely by community members right now, we’re not quite there yet. At this stage, we’re making sure their voices are quoted accurately and that their perspectives aren’t lost in translation.
Knowledge exchange isn’t instant, especially when working across different languages, cultures, and lived experiences. It takes time, trust, and a whole lot of patience. But every small step counts. The way stories are collected, whose voices are centred, and how narratives take shape, all of these little shifts add up. And that’s how real, lasting change begins.
