Short. Online. Video.
Those are the three main characteristics of a lot of nonprofit storytelling these days, and there are plenty of brilliant examples of how two-minute web videos have raised money or changed hearts and minds.
But one of the most riveting examples of advocacy storytelling I’ve heard in recent years–maybe ever–was two guys talking in person for about 45 minutes.
In other words: Long. Live. People.
The setting was a conference of social entrepreneurs in San Francisco. A friendly crowd.
The men were John Thompson and Doug DiLosa, two Louisianans who had served 18 years and 14 years, respectively, in the state penitentiary at Angola, La., for murders they didn’t commit. They were put there by the work of district attorneys who, with collusion from people in other agencies, withheld evidence and suppressed testimony to get convictions. Each man was released and exonerated after years of exhaustive and expensive legal work and self-advocacy.
Shortly after Hurricane Katrina and subsequent flooding destroyed his New Orleans home and business in 2005, Mr. Thompson founded Resurrection After Exoneration. The organization helps exonerees get back on their feet after incarceration and seeks to hold prosecutors accountable for misconduct. Mr. Thompson, Mr. DiLosa, and about 10 other men from the organization share their stories, in various combinations, in public presentations to schools, professional associations, political groups, and others to educate audiences and raise funds for the group.
After hearing them talk, I wanted to throw money at the organization and move to New Orleans to volunteer. I haven’t moved, but I have made several donations. Their stories still roil me three years after hearing them. And I’m certainly not alone.
So what made their stories so effective, and what can we learn from them?
The pairing of the two men makes it harder to dismiss either one. Mr. Thompson is black, Mr. DiLosa is white, and they come from different class backgrounds and political perspectives. “That makes it harder for audiences to write off one or the other of us,” says Mr. DiLosa. What’s more, each of their stories appeals to different audiences. Other organizations can learn from this by combining multiple stories to make their case more persuasive.
They were live and shared their own stories. These and other exonerees share their stories online, like in the short videos (including Mr. DiLosa’s) on the group’s website. Such videos may reach more audiences or raise more money over time. But there is something undeniably moving in hearing a person’s experience, unmediated and straight from the source. This method may be especially effective when a nonprofit wants people to accept a tough story.
They intertwined their stories. So outrageous are the injustices that Mr. Thompson and Mr. DiLosa endured that the stories didn’t need to be adorned. And while there was nothing theatrical in their presentations, the men used a clever device that Mr. Thompson says “makes people work their brains.” The two alternated telling “chapters” of their respective stories. One told the story of his arrest, then the other did. Then they took turns relating the experience of their trials, then prison, then release and life on the outside. If one person had first told his story completely, says Mr. Thompson, listeners might have lost interest by the end of just one. As it was, their presentation was suspenseful. Other nonprofits might experiment with different formats to keep the audience’s attention over the course of a longer story.
They tie their stories to a larger issue. In all of their presentations, the speakers say that they’re just a few among the thousands of U.S. prisoners exonerated of serious crimes in just the last 25 years. In that way, they make the argument that such prosecutorial misconduct is a systemic problem, not just a few cases of bad luck. “I want [the audience] to realize the scope of the problem,” Mr. DiLosa says. “If someone is educated and concerned, they’ll take action. It’s not any one thing I’m looking for; I want them to do a little bit of everything.”
Did the two men’s presentation change any minds in that sympathetic audience three years ago? Maybe. It hooked at least one person–me–and I’ve retold their stories several times. This is exactly the kind of story that nonprofits want to tell, one that others will pass on. I’m also now a repeat donor and will continue to be as long as I hear from the group occasionally and every time I read in the news about someone who is exonerated.
And who knows, maybe someday I will move to New Orleans and volunteer.
This post begins a new series on Philanthropy.com. The second Wednesday of each month, Paul VanDeCarr will write about some of the best nonprofit storytelling and what others can learn from it. Readers can submit examples for consideration in this feature through this online form or by e-mail to Mr. VanDeCarr at paul@workingnarratives.org.
Mr. VanDeCarr is the managing director of Working Narratives, an organization that collaborates with advocates, artists, policy groups, media makers, and others to “change the story” on the big social-justice issues of our time. He is also the author of “Storytelling and Social Change: a Strategy Guide for Grantmakers” and is working on a second edition to be released this winter for nonprofits, advocates, and storytellers.