Last weekend, I visited a Black quilters exhibit and kept thinking about how things become so much more than the pieces it’s made from.

Historically, quilting has been a communal practice, shaped by necessity as much as creativity. Black quilters in particular have long worked with what was available to them, stitching together remnants piece by piece until it became something that could keep a family warm. After emancipation, quilting became more than functional. They became a way to record family histories, reflect the conditions people were living through, and express a distinct sense of style and voice. Pieces that might have been overlooked or set aside were brought back in, given new meaning, and made part of something that could hold both memory and care.

Narrative change work feels like quilting to me. In this work, we rarely start from nothing. We work with what people already carry, and often what they’ve been taught to discard: what people have lived, the stories they’ve heard and passed down, what’s been remembered, and what we collectively choose to carry forward. 

The work is in how we bring those pieces together, and in the care we take with them. In how we listen, what we choose to center, and what patterns we choose to repeat. Over time, those patterns shape what feels true, what feels possible, and how people see themselves and each other.

At its best, this work does more than tell a better story; it creates something people can ground themselves in, something that can hold and carry meaning, and something strong enough to keep us warm.