The Power of Our Stories: Counter-Narratives as Liberation Work
In my years of youth work, I've witnessed the transformative power of story circles – spaces where young people speak their truths with such clarity and conviction that the very air seems to vibrate with possibility. These moments remind me of what critical race theorists have long understood: counter-narratives aren't merely responses to dominant narratives; they are acts of reclamation, restoration, and revolution.
The urgency of this work has never been more apparent. We find ourselves in a moment where powerful interests are actively working to sanitize history, to erase the lived experiences of our communities, to deny the very existence of systemic oppression. The attacks on Critical Race Theory – often by those who have never engaged with its rich theoretical framework – reveal a deeper fear: the fear of stories that challenge power, that complicate simple narratives, that demand we reckon with uncomfortable truths.
As non-profit organizations, particularly those working with young people from marginalized communities, we have both an opportunity and an obligation to center counter-storytelling in our work. When a young person shares their experience of navigating educational spaces that weren't built for them, when they speak about the wisdom they've inherited from their elders, when they articulate their visions for a different future – these aren't just stories. They are theory being built from the ground up, knowledge being produced outside of traditional academic spaces.
I think about the youth in our programs who have taught me more about resilience and resistance than any academic text ever could. Like the young sister who created a literary zine featuring the voices and artwork of young Black women and girls, transforming her personal longing for representation into a platform for collective storytelling and celebration. Or the group of young organizers who documented their community's fight against displacement, creating a counter-narrative to the sterile language of "urban renewal" and "development."
This work of storytelling and story-keeping is not neutral. When we support young people in documenting their experiences, in challenging dominant narratives, in claiming their right to be both subject and theorist of their own lives, we are engaging in what bell hooks called "education as the practice of freedom." We are creating spaces where multiple truths can exist, where complexity is embraced rather than flattened, where the personal and the political are understood as deeply intertwined.
For non-profit organizations, this means moving beyond simply "giving voice" to communities – a framework that often reinforces problematic power dynamics. Instead, we must create conditions where stories can emerge organically, where different ways of knowing are valued, where young people are recognized as the experts of their own experiences. This might look like youth-led research projects, intergenerational story circles, digital archives, or creative arts programs that center counter-storytelling.
In a world of alternative facts and deliberate misremembering, the act of telling our stories truthfully and powerfully becomes a form of resistance. When we support young people in claiming their narratives, we are not just preserving history – we are actively shaping the future. For in these stories lie the seeds of transformation, the blueprints for the world we are working to build.
