The Power of Inclusion Begins with Storytelling – But Are We Telling Our Stories, and Is Anyone Really Listening?
A shared story can challenge bias, inspire compassion, and spark change.
Inclusivity.
This has been our focus this month at The Informed Perspective—and for good reason. At its core, inclusion is about leaning in, being seen, and seeing others. It’s about finding common threads in a world that often feels divided: empathy, humanity, and kindness. We believe that stronger, more compassionate communities begin with presence—with choosing to get involved, even when it’s easier to stay out. But taking part isn’t always easy. Life is full, people are busy, and let’s face it—community involvement can feel like just another demand.
Still, we have to wonder: are we filling our lives, or just keeping busy? We’ve grown used to solitude and screen time, and while that offers comfort and distraction, it doesn’t always offer connection. And maybe, in pulling away from one another, we’ve fed into the very disconnection we wish would disappear. Because at the end of the day, most of us want the same things: a safe place to live, a healthy environment, opportunities for our children, security, love and belonging and a sense that we matter. Community doesn’t need to be a grand gesture. Sometimes just an hour of your time, a skill you can share, or a willingness to show up is enough to begin. #justgiveanhour
We know the challenges all too well. We send the invitations, we open the doors—and even then, it’s not always easy to bring people together. It’s natural to feel a bit discouraged. But as Peter Block writes in his book Community:
“For all the agony of a volunteer effort, you are rewarded by being in the room with people who are up to something larger than their immediate self-interest.”
The people who are in the room remind us why this work matters. Their presence is powerful—it shows we’re not starting from scratch. We’re already building something meaningful. And for those who aren’t with us yet? The doors will stay open. We believe change is coming. The conversations we’ve had make it clear: community isn’t out of reach—it just needs to be made visible, valued, and maybe even made a little cool again!
Community isn’t out of reach—it just needs to be made visible, valued, and maybe even made a little cool again!
Where Inclusion Meets Storytelling
The spaces we invite people into need to feel safe. Welcoming & inclusive. And one of the most meaningful ways we’ve found to build that kind of space is through storytelling. Throughout this month, we’ve listened to stories from people of all walks of life. Some made us laugh, others made us cry and others stayed with us long after the conversation ended. Again and again, one truth keeps surfacing: when someone shares their story, something shifts. We begin to see them more clearly. We move beyond assumptions. We hear their heart—and that’s where understanding begins. A shared story can challenge bias, inspire compassion, and spark change. It reminds us that connection isn’t built on agreement—it’s built on empathy.
Our podcast has become a space for exactly that—a platform where voices can be heard and stories shared, not just as moments, but as building blocks of a growing community. We’re using this platform to connect people across experiences and perspectives, and to encourage people to get involved.
That’s also why we created Tween Talk—so that children, regardless of the school they attend, have a space where they can be heard, tell their stories, contribute to others, and join meaningful conversations. It’s a place where their voices matter. We’ve made space for their perspectives in our podcast as well, inviting them to pose questions to our guests. These questions often spark fresh reflections and open up new angles—reminding us how much we all gain (young and old alike) when we listen with curiosity and make room for emerging voices.
We want people to tell their stories not because they have to, but because they feel safe enough to. Because they feel heard. And when young people see that their experiences are valued, it shapes how they see themselves—and what they believe is possible. Real inclusion involves all of us. And more often than not, it begins with listening. That listening often leads us to something deeper.
Real inclusion involves all of us. And more often than not, it begins with listening.
The Human Need to Belong
One theme that’s come up again and again in our conversations is invisibility—that feeling of being left out or unseen. It’s something many of us know, even if we don’t always talk about it. From childhood through adulthood, belonging shapes us. When it’s missing, the effects are real—loneliness, anxiety, withdrawal. For young people, especially those who’ve faced trauma or instability, the impact can be lasting. In workplaces, friendships, and communities, people want to know they matter. We want to feel accepted not just for what we do, but for who we are. Resilience plays a big role in all this. It helps people carry on when they feel excluded. But it’s important to remember: resilience grows in connection. We all benefit when communities step up with care. The support we show each other during hard times—after a loss, during a crisis, in the small, everyday moments—is what creates the kind of belonging that lasts. And for those who’ve been left out the longest, we need to recognise that resilience shouldn't have to carry so much weight. People need more than inner strength—they need support.
Understanding Where Exclusion Starts
Exclusion often begins early, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways—being left out, judged, or stereotyped. And it doesn’t always stop in adulthood. Sometimes efforts to be inclusive unintentionally spotlight who’s still left out—whether because of race, disability, class, or identity. These exclusions often stem from unconscious biases, passed down and absorbed over time. Many people carry stories of being overlooked or misunderstood. I think of my own childhood—growing up without a father, watching my mother navigate the world with a disability. These early experiences shape how welcome we feel later on in life.
Shame can be a barrier too. When people fear judgment or rejection, it’s easier to stay quiet or distant. But often, shame is built on false beliefs—stories we’ve absorbed that simply aren’t true. We don’t need perfect conversations. We need honest ones. The kind that make room for people to be seen, to speak freely, and to feel valued. And we need to begin this work with our children. Encouraging them to try, to fail, and to learn. Helping them see that difference isn’t something to avoid—it’s something to understand.
Rethinking Inclusion
Do we need to fight harder to be accepted? Or is it time to ask different questions? Maybe inclusion isn’t about trying to fit into spaces that were never built for everyone. Maybe it’s about building new spaces—ones shaped by mutual respect, not conformity. True inclusion doesn’t mean expecting people to be strong all the time. It means creating communities where strength isn’t required just to feel safe. Where care and support are built into the foundation, not added later.
So, What Can We Actually Do?
Start small. Make space to listen. Reflect on someone else’s perspective. And consider how you might contribute in your own way—big or small. It could mean helping plan an event, offering a skill, sharing a space, or simply reaching out to someone who’s been quiet. Every effort counts.
Let’s imagine communities where:
People don’t have to ask for a seat—they’re invited to shape the table.
Kids and elders learn from each other.
Involvement is meaningful—and recognised.
Boundaries are recognised and honoured.
Storytelling isn’t just encouraged, but valued.
Because stories aren’t just for sharing—they’re how we map our communities. They reveal what we carry, what we hope for, and how we’ve made it this far. Maybe inclusion doesn’t begin with answers. Maybe it begins with asking: “Can you tell us your story?”
To Be Honest It’s Hard Getting People Involved
You plan the event. You put up the posters. You send the invites. But the room stays quiet. People are stretched thin. Sometimes, so are we. But it’s not because people don’t care. It’s because we’ve gotten used to staying in our comfort zones. Keeping to ourselves. And somewhere along the way, community became something abstract. But belonging doesn’t begin when people arrive. It begins when they believe their presence matters.
So, Start with Your Story
What might your story be?
What shaped you?
What made you feel seen—or invisible?
Who helped you belong, or made you feel like you didn’t?
What do you wish someone had understood about you sooner?
Because when you share your story, you make space for others to do the same. You offer a mirror, a map, or maybe just a moment of recognition. You don’t have to have the “right” words. You just need to be real. When you tell your story, you become visible. You say: “I care.”
And when we speak up, reach out, or open up—even just a little—we show others how it’s done. Especially the next generation. They learn not just from what we say, but from what we model. Showing up isn’t about being perfect. It’s just about taking part. And if no one comes at first? Keep knocking on doors—not to pressure, but to invite and to build something together.
A Final Thought
If your story hasn’t been told, maybe it’s the one someone needs to hear.
If you’ve never felt fully at home in your community, maybe can help create that sense of home for others.
We needn’t wait for inclusive communities to appear.
We can create them—through conversation, and courage.
Because inclusion isn’t a destination. It’s a path we CAN walk—together.
References
Block, Peter. Community: The Structure of Belonging. San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2008.
