The Complexities of Cross-Cultural Storytelling with Christy Kern
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In This Episode
The most compelling yet exploitative stories often caricature complex experiences.
When we know better, we can do better.
Ethical storytellers build connections and go deeper into issues. They leave room for nuance, get permission, and make sure stories enlighten people rather than just expose them. The result? Story owners are dignified and respected, and audiences feel centered by shared understanding.
Christy Kern joins us on this episode to discuss all things ethical storytelling, with a deep dive into the complexities of cross-cultural storytelling.
About Christy Kern
Christy Kern is a workshop facilitator who helps folks find clarity, determine what they are for, anchor their work in value, and, ultimately, become better communicators. She is an ethical storytelling advocate and has developed an ethical storytelling database with an evolving collection of resources to support better ethical storytelling practices.
Connect with Christy Kern
Website | Ethical Storytelling Research Database
About Host Maria Bryan
Maria Bryan is a trauma-informed storytelling trainer. She helps nonprofit leaders tell powerful and impactful stories that resist harm. Maria has over fifteen years in marketing communications in the public sector. She has a Master’s Degree in Public Administration, a Bachelor’s Degree in Journalism, and is professionally certified in Trauma & Resilience, Trauma-Informed Space Holding, and Somatic Embodiment & Regulation. Maria is a firm believer that storytellers make the world a healthier, safer, cleaner, and happier place.
Connect with Maria
Speaking & Training | LinkedIn | Email
Transcripts
Maria: Hello and welcome. Today we are speaking with Christy Kern. Christy is a workshop facilitator who helps folks find clarity, determine what they are for, anchor their work and value, and ultimately become better communicators. She is an ethical storytelling advocate and has developed an ethical storytelling database with an evolving collection of resources to support better storytelling practices.
That link will be in the show notes. Christy has been a really big part of my journey too. In fact, we formed a small study group to complete a trauma and resilience certificate program.
Christy, I'm so, so thrilled to have you on When Bearing Witness. I have been following your journey and your work in ethical storytelling and research, and I love how we've been able to get to know each other and have become friends over the past year or so through learning about trauma-informed storytelling.
So I'll get to that, but would love for you to start a little bit from the beginning. I know you've lived a few different lives — what has brought you to more values-driven communications and marketing?
Christy: Like probably a lot of people in their professions, it’s been a very winding road. I actually started out in college as a communications major and switched because I had no idea what a communications major actually did for work after college. But ironically, I ended up back in communications eventually.
Like anybody, you just learn from who’s there to teach you in your job. For me, it was editors, CEOs of nonprofits, and leaders who just said, “Here’s what’s always been done. Go do it.” So I grew up kind of in the “if it bleeds, it leads” mentality. I think all of us remember those flyers with sad-looking children asking for donations. By all accounts, those things did well and were held as best practices. So that’s what I learned to do — not knowing any better.
Eventually, I ended up working for some nonprofits and social enterprises and kind of fell into what I assumed and was told were best practices. I think it was somewhere around early 2010 when Friends International put out a campaign. I don’t know if this was global — at the time, I was living in Cambodia — but it was about children not being kind of museum ornaments.
They had this incredible campaign with children posed inside plastic boxes, as if they were there just to be viewed. They were speaking about the orphanage tourism industry, but also the bigger implications of foreigners coming over and taking photos as part of their vacation or a volunteer experience, which was really big at the time.
That was one of my first eye-opening moments. In theory, we weren’t doing that — we were doing “better work.” But the real question was: were we? Were we actually doing something that had more integrity? That was more dignifying than just using photos as a means to an end?
That’s when I recognized there was something much deeper about how and what we communicated. I’ve slowly learned how easy it is to use stories — particularly the media and marketing that surround them — as a commodity, rather than as a tool for building relationships, dignity, and value for everyone involved. For the person we're communicating about, their community, the staff, even the audience receiving that marketing. We all play a role.
It’s been a slow journey for me. I’ve made a ton of mistakes along the way. But I’m thrilled to continue learning and hopefully get encouraged and fortified along the way.
Maria: I think back often, not only on my own journey — I’ve made a lot of mistakes too — but those big campaigns, especially where children weren’t given much context or agency. These wildly successful campaigns had such a damaging ripple effect.
We need to make choices. Just because some tactics work doesn’t mean we should use them. But the good news is, we’re learning more about what parts of stories actually make people move. And we can still do this in an ethical way — we can do it differently.
It takes more time. On your journey, are there nuts-and-bolts parts of storytelling that still dignify story owners while also leading to a strong ROI, whatever the purpose of the story is?
Christy: I don’t think all of the stories that have been told necessarily need to change. I think what really needs to change is how we build relationships with the protagonists of our stories.
We often swoop in and extract a story. It’s like someone visiting your town, pulling a story out of you, and using that to represent your entire state — as if everyone were like you. That story might be true and have impact, but what we’ve done poorly, and are now learning to do better, is recognize that a story isn’t a commodity. It’s a tool for building relationships.
We need to understand the complexity and nuance around a story and recognize that one story exists in a sea of stories. Your experience might be true for you and even others, but not for everyone in your demographic, region, or identity group.
The formulas for stories have been around for centuries — they’re effective — but it’s how we get those stories and how we pass them on that we need to improve.
Maria: Nuance comes up so often in ethical and trauma-informed storytelling. I hope we continue to hold space for that. It’s not about scrapping everything we’ve done — stories have been around forever. But how can we leave room for context and nuance? How can we pass the mic to those better positioned to tell the story?
And give ourselves grace along the way. I’ve lived abroad too, and looking back on some of the photos and stories I’ve shared, especially in different cultural and geographic contexts, I realize how important it is to allow time and space to tell stories well.
Christy: One thing I think is true, especially of younger idealistic people — myself included — is that we often don’t understand the difference between our experience and a cultural truth.
We can always share our own experience. But trouble happens when we start owning a culture that’s not ours. When we say, “Here’s what’s happening,” instead of, “Here’s what I’m experiencing.”
It’s okay to say, “This feels wrong to me based on how I was raised,” without labeling it morally good or bad. As we grow, we can model that nuance better and help others learn too.
Maria: Absolutely. How you're experiencing something is your story — and that’s still true. Whether you’ve moved to a new city, are in a new relationship, or are serving abroad, you’re encountering new cultures and worldviews. And it takes practice to separate yourself from judging what’s “right” or “wrong.” I love the idea of telling stories through your own perspective, while also doing the work of understanding the broader context. That takes so much time and effort, but it matters.
Christy: I was talking with Angela Popplewell from 100cameras — if you don’t follow them, I can’t say enough good things. They’ve been on a journey of learning how to empower the person on the other side of the camera. They give cameras to kids and teach them how to tell their own stories.
Angela shared how their pendulum swung too far in one direction, and now they’re finding balance. I remember going through the same — questioning if development work or volunteerism was even ethical. Those questions are still worth asking. But I also know my worldview, my compassion, and my understanding of the world came from living overseas.
I don’t want to say that young people shouldn’t travel or serve abroad. I think they should — but with intention. Let’s send 17-year-olds to see the world, and teach them they’re experiencing it through their own upbringing. Maybe they start by saying, “This seemed weird at first,” and end with, “Now I understand why.”
It’s about transformation. I have a soft spot for the 20-something me who made mistakes because she didn’t know better. I want today’s young people to feel more equipped so they don’t carry the same regrets.
Maria: When I was in college, I did my fair share of cringey mission trips. But I was lucky to spend a semester in Uganda with adults who intentionally challenged our worldviews — about faith, culture, poverty. That time changed my life. It gave me a strong foundation, and later, during the Peace Corps in Ghana, I still made plenty of mistakes, but I had that base.
I agree with you — I’ve often thought we should just shut down some of these programs. But I wouldn’t be able to teach trauma-informed storytelling without those experiences. I joined the Peace Corps because of storytelling. I was chasing stories — my own and others’. Storytellers have that curiosity and responsibility to tell stories with dignity.
I appreciate how you brought me back to those formative years and the people who gently guided me through hard conversations. Ethical storytelling isn’t black and white — it’s so much gray, intuition, and discomfort that we need to be willing to sit with.
Christy: All of this gets easier when we don’t have to unlearn harmful practices. That’s my hope — that new generations of students come in with a stronger foundation and better role models.
They won’t have to undo as much. They'll already know to build relationships, ask permission, respect cultural practices and personal space, and understand trauma.
We used to think trauma meant big, capital-T events we didn’t talk about. Now, we’ve been through a trauma-informed course, and we’re so much more aware. It helps us be more careful, more mindful. And I hope that spreads. I hope younger people grow up feeling at ease with hard conversations and feel empowered to do the work.
Maria: Yes. Let’s talk about the trauma-informed course we took together. Last year, the group of us — you, me, Veronica, and Cody — took this course. For all of us, it was pretty new. What do you think is the difference between trauma-informed storytelling and ethical storytelling, if there is one?
Christy: That’s such a good question. I hadn’t really thought about it until you asked. What comes to mind is that it’s kind of a Venn diagram.
On the ethical storytelling side, a lot of my research has been focused on practices — almost codified: “We do this, we don’t do that.” There’s value in that — it gives people a toolkit. Things like asking for permission, giving story owners sign-off power.
Ethical storytelling is often rooted in media — in how stories, photos, and videos are produced.
The trauma-informed work we did felt more like a mindset and heart space. It helped me understand the trauma in my own past and recognize what others might be carrying. That old saying — you never know what someone else is going through — really resonated.
It’s more obvious in certain fields like anti-trafficking where trauma is expected. But even outside of that, most people have experienced some form of trauma.
On Giving Tuesday, my inbox is full of messages pulling at my heartstrings. In doing that, organizations may unintentionally stir up trauma in their audience.
So, yes — the two overlap. Ethical storytelling brings best practices; trauma-informed storytelling brings a mindset of care and tenderness.
Maria: I love that. Let me share my take.
Right after our course, I used to say: Ethical storytelling is about respecting and dignifying, while trauma-informed storytelling is about providing safety.
But now, the lines are blurred. I think I separated them at first because I felt more confident teaching trauma-informed storytelling than ethical storytelling. With ethical storytelling, it still felt like an “us and them” — like we had this responsibility toward “others,” and that’s a big weight to carry.
Whereas with trauma-informed storytelling, it became a therapy session. Our study group didn’t just talk about storytelling — we unpacked our own stuff. It took time before I could even connect those dots.
So now, I see trauma-informed storytelling as an ecosystem. We’ve all experienced trauma. Our audiences have too. So let’s walk through this together and tell stories with more agency and safety.
Those are the two values I come back to the most: safety and agency. They show up in both trauma-informed and ethical storytelling.
Maria:
Especially when we’re talking about children or highly vulnerable populations — we’re trying to give them control over their story and voice, and we’re trying to do that in a way that helps them feel safe. So I had a very black-and-white answer at first, but I’m much more comfortable now seeing it all as a journey — not a destination — for both ethical and trauma-informed storytelling.
I used to say they were “married but different.” Now, I really do think it’s a Venn diagram. And I agree with you — ethical storytelling tends to be more practical, like: here’s your responsibility as a storyteller. And your personal experience, if you’re not telling your own story, becomes less relevant.
That’s where I’m sitting this Giving Tuesday.
Christy:
I love your answer. And I think — going through that program and understanding the “tenets of trauma,” if you will — that should probably be part of every ethical storyteller’s training.
Because chances are, if you’re interested in ethical storytelling, you’re collecting stories on behalf of someone else and sharing them with a different audience. Understanding the role trauma plays in that process is vital.
Part of my shift in thinking has been realizing that ethical storytelling isn’t just about dignifying the individual whose story we’re telling. It’s about recognizing the whole ecosystem. That person is part of a family, a community, a culture. And the organization serving them matters, too — and so does the audience receiving the story.
I’ve stopped thinking of it as just “us and them.” Now I see all the players in the storytelling experience — and the need to treat everyone with dignity. That includes understanding trauma and how it shows up throughout that entire ecosystem.
Maria:
Yes. And something that’s so interesting about trauma — it’s not just about the event itself. It’s about your response to that event. Which makes trauma-informed storytelling feel very personal.
It’s one-on-one — or many-to-one, depending on the audience. But it’s deeply personal.
I’ve thought about protecting the privacy of someone’s family or community before, but not always about the bigger picture — how many people are impacted by a single story. Ethical storytelling, when done well, touches so many people. It has the power to dignify or unintentionally harm far beyond the individual we interviewed.
I don’t know if it’s even helpful to create strict definitions. But people do ask. If you talk about trauma-informed storytelling, you’re asked about ethical storytelling, and vice versa. And maybe that’s fair.
Maybe it’s because we crave clear categories — but we’re moving in the direction where they can’t be neatly separated anymore.
Christy:
Exactly. And maybe at some point in the future, we won’t talk about them separately at all.
Right now, we still need to explain the difference, but someday maybe it’ll just be called storytelling. And by default, that storytelling will be ethical and trauma-informed. It’ll just be how it’s done.
Maria:
So you heard it here — the future of ethical and trauma-informed storytelling is that we won’t have to explain the difference anymore! It’ll just be how we practice. That gives me goosebumps.
Christy:
I think it’s possible. Maybe I’m overly optimistic, but I really believe it. And that’s why the work you’re doing — this podcast, the conversations you’re leading — is so important.
You’re helping people understand that there are better ways to tell stories. More respectful, more thoughtful, more human ways.
Maria:
One reason I’ve been so drawn to your voice in this space is because you bring so much kindness and grace. These conversations can be heavy — we often confront regrets. I’d love to hear your thoughts on that. Why is it important to hold space for kindness and grace as we strive to be ethical and trauma-informed storytellers?
Christy:
I don’t know where the quote comes from — maybe Brene Brown — but someone wise once said that shame never accomplishes anything. That really hit me.
I had felt so much shame for things I’d done in the past. But shame doesn’t help you move forward. It’s like dragging chains with you.
To learn and grow, I had to start with grace for myself. I could acknowledge what I didn’t do well. If appropriate, I could apologize or make amends. But I couldn’t live in that shame space.
If your goal is to build relationships and show up with respect and curiosity, you can’t do that from a place of being scolded or fearful. You won’t be curious. You won’t ask questions. You’ll be afraid of offending.
I’d rather say, “Here’s how to ask better questions. Here’s how to be more mindful.” And if you mess up — okay. Apologize, learn, and move on.
We all mess up. We’re human.
Maria:
Yes. First and foremost, we are humans.
Christy:
Exactly. In today’s culture — especially with cancel culture — people live in fear of saying the wrong thing.
I’d rather call people in than call them out. When we do that, we give each other more freedom to build real, authentic relationships. And from that place, better stories will emerge.
Maria:
So beautifully said. Can you share how people can work with you or access your ethical storytelling resource?
Christy:
Sure. Being the nerd that I am, I’ve been hoarding ethical storytelling resources — unintentionally at first. Now, I’ve compiled over 100 materials in a public Notion database. It includes everything from websites to PDFs. It can be overwhelming, but you can filter and sort it. I recommend starting with one article at a time.
If you have your own resources, you’re welcome to add to the database.
As for finding me, you can visit onpurposeproject.com or christykern.com. They redirect to the same place.
Right now, I’m open to collaborations. If you have an amazing project and want to brainstorm, send me an email. I’d love to hear from you.
Maria:
Beautiful. Thank you so much for being on the show. I’ve loved this conversation and deeply appreciate you being in this space with me today.
Christy:
Thank you for having me. You were the one who introduced me to trauma-informed marketing, and I’m so grateful. It wasn’t a lens I had before. It’s not just another tool in the toolbox — it’s a way of being.
And when we did that study group, you created such a safe space for us to unpack our own trauma before even talking about our work. I’m proud of you and excited for what you’re doing with this podcast — holding space for others and showing how we can all do better.
Maria:
Thank you so much.
The When Bearing Witness Podcast is produced by Rustic Roots. They are video storytellers passionate about sharing the impact of nonprofits. From story ideation to beautiful and powerful videos on screen, they've got you covered. Learn more at Rusticroots.co.