The Hidden Curriculum of Storytelling

The first time I sat down to make a digital story, it caught me off guard.

I had spent more than a decade helping other people tell their stories — in narrative films, documentaries, commercials. I was usually in a support role: producing, scheduling, interviewing. I knew the process well.

But this was different.
This time, I was turning the lens on myself.
And not for an audience — just for me.

I sat down with pen and paper to gather my thoughts. What emerged wasn’t polished or performative. It was something deeper: a process of story-finding, and ultimately, self-finding.

The Power of Storytelling for Self-Discovery

We often think of storytelling as an exchange — one person speaks, another listens. But when I began crafting my own digital story, I realized something profound:

Even a story told to yourself can be transformative.

As I sifted through memories and moments, I began to see old experiences in new light. Certain events took on different meaning when juxtaposed with others. Narratives I thought were fixed began to shift.

That’s the hidden power of storytelling — especially personal storytelling.
It doesn’t just help us share who we are.
It helps us figure out who we are.

The Hidden Curriculum

When I teach digital storytelling, I often tell people: this isn’t just about learning how to make a good video. It’s about learning how to see yourself more clearly.

A few years ago, with Story Gorge, I had the privilege of teaching a group of young cancer survivors. Many of them were already used to sharing their “cancer story” in public settings. But in that room, something else emerged.

As we opened up the circle, participants said things like:

• “I want to rewrite my story.”

• “I want to find new power in what I’ve been through.”

• “I want to understand how I really feel about what happened.”

We’re not just learning to tell a story.
We’re learning empathy, confidence, and self-awareness along the way.

By the end of our time together, each person had uncovered something unexpected — a moment of strength, a reframe, a deeper sense of agency.

Listening Is Story Work Too

There’s another secret to storytelling that often goes unspoken: listening.

When we sit in a room working on stories, we don’t just speak. We share process. We give and receive feedback. We learn how to hold space for others and reflect honestly on ourselves.

Listening is a kind of storytelling, too.

Hearing someone else’s story invites us to look at our own.
Where do our experiences align? Where do they diverge?
What new insights arise when we compare their world to ours?

In these moments, we don’t just hear stories.

We build relationships. We sharpen understanding. We grow.

The Real Takeaway

I felt it myself, that first time I sat down to write:

This life I’m living — it matters.
It has meaning. It has insight worth sharing.

Whether or not we share our stories with the world, the act of crafting them offers something rare in our noisy lives: reflection, perspective, and often, a sense of peace.

So the next time someone learns how to tell a digital story —
they may walk away with more than just a finished video.

They might walk away knowing themselves a little better.