Stories are not neutral. Stories dictate who is seen, who is heard, and who is erased. They shape how we define justice, whose suffering we acknowledge, and what futures we imagine possible. And in a world where power is often tied to control over narratives, the stories we tell—or fail to tell—have lasting consequences.
At Meeting at the Margins, we recognize storytelling as a force that can uphold systems of exclusion or dismantle them. Because when certain voices are silenced or distorted, it is not by accident, it is by design.
The Politics of Storytelling
No story exists in isolation. Every narrative is a product of who tells it, how they tell it, and why. Language is never just descriptive, it is persuasive. A word like “uprising” instead of “riot,” “freedom fighter” instead of “terrorist,” and “survivor” instead of “victim” are choices that carry weight, signaling who holds legitimacy in the public lexicon.
Consider the way displacement is framed. A family fleeing war is often reduced to a statistic, their humanity flattened beneath headlines that speak of “waves,” “crises,” and “border security.” These stories are not told to generate empathy; they are told to justify exclusion. The people behind the numbers disappear, and policies of deterrence become easier to defend.
For example, in 2023, over 117 million people were forcibly displaced worldwide, according to the UN Refugee Agency (UNHCR). Yet, media coverage often focuses on the political and economic “burdens” of displacement rather than the human stories behind these numbers. A 2023 report by the Reuters Institute found that only 15% of news stories about migration focus on the lived experiences of displaced individuals, while the majority emphasize border control and security.
Meanwhile, other stories are amplified—ones that reinforce power structures rather than challenge them. Governments shape national myths to erase past atrocities, media outlets sensationalize narratives that fit dominant ideologies, and history books sanitize violence to absolve those who inflicted it. This is how narratives consolidate power: by determining what is remembered, what is forgotten, and what is never acknowledged at all.
Who Gets to Tell the Story?
The ability to shape public perception is a form of authority. It dictates who is afforded dignity, whose pain is considered legitimate, and whose struggles are met with indifference.
For example, colonial histories have largely been framed as tales of exploration and progress rather than invasion and dispossession. Entire cultures are portrayed as passive, their resistance minimized or omitted altogether. These omissions are not accidental—they are intentional acts of erasure that serve to uphold the legitimacy of those in power.
A 2023 UNESCO report highlights how colonial narratives continue to dominate history education in many countries, with only 25% of curricula addressing the perspectives of colonized peoples. This erasure perpetuates systemic inequities and denies marginalized communities the right to their own histories.
This dynamic extends beyond history books. In war zones, propaganda is used to justify aggression. In political discourse, stereotypes are wielded to delegitimize movements for justice. Even humanitarian narratives, when told irresponsibly, can strip people of agency, reducing them to objects of pity rather than partners in change. To shift power, we must shift who tells the story.
Rewriting the Narrative
Challenging dominant narratives requires more than just critique, it requires action. We must not only question the stories we consume but actively work to replace them with ones that are just, nuanced, and centered on those who have been silenced.
Interrogate the Narrative, Always: Who is telling the story? What perspectives are missing? What language is being used to frame the issue? Understanding these dynamics is the first step in resisting narratives that serve power rather than truth.
Center the Voices of Those Affected: Stories about displacement, marginalization, and resistance should be told by those who have lived them. Not interpreted through a distant lens or reduced to case studies, but shared with full agency and self-determination.
Commit to Ethical Storytelling: Stories must be told with care, ensuring that dignity is prioritized over sensationalism and that narratives are not extracted but co-created. Ethical storytelling is not just about what is shared, but how and why. Initiatives like The Ethical Storytelling Project emphasize the importance of collaborative storytelling, where the storyteller retains control over their narrative.
Make Space for the Histories That Have Been Erased – Public memory is not fixed. It can be reclaimed. Whether through truth commissions, reparative education, or grassroots storytelling initiatives, there are ways to restore what has been deliberately forgotten. For example, the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation (NCTR) in Canada has worked to document and address the historical injustices faced by Indigenous peoples, ensuring their stories are heard and honored.
The Future is in the Stories We Tell
Narratives shape the boundaries of what is possible. They determine who is seen as human, who is deemed worthy of rights, and what injustices are allowed to persist. But storytelling can also be a tool for liberation. As much as it contains the potential for harm, it can also be a way to shift the power, amplify the voices that have been silenced, and write a future where no one is pushed to the margins.
And the more stories we reclaim, the more just the world becomes. Because history is not just something we inherit. It is something we shape.
Originally posted here: https://meetingmargins.org/how-narratives-shape-power-and-public-perception/.
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