Close The Narrative Gap
In this fast-evolving media landscape, your expertise and your voice are your pipeline to growth and connection.
Close the Narrative Gap is an intentionally sized 3-week program for creators and journalists to build a sustainable, audience-driven editorial foundation to help you build and grow your platform.
Hi team!
Lovely to see you again - and welcome to those of you who are new to this space!
Ok, I want to get into this Bad Bunny’s halftime show.
Yes, I loved it, for all the things - and yes, I agree, Pedro Pascal is literally everywhere.
I am still here for that.
I also loved it for this reason: it was a great example of the power of your story’s context.
Let’s recap, because life is happening at a crazy-fast pace for so many of us: the stakes feel high. On the one hand, our friend Benito’s anticipated performance was causing controversy because he was going to perform in Spanish — and way too many people thought he wasn’t American because he was from Puerto Rico...And on the other hand, there were complaints that he was shilling for a corporate entity that, at best, was performative on issues of inclusion, equity, and social justice - and his performance would just be another example of that.
And then the Big Day arrived, and he smashed it.
I couldn’t help but marvel at how intentional he was with his storytelling. Even if you didn’t understand the words, you absolutely got the meaning. His song list - for those who could follow - started with PR’s colonial history, in the fields no less, and celebrated its culture. And the visuals filled in the blanks for the rest of us who couldn’t follow. And I’m not even talking about his famous friends. The meaning I got was about national pride, cultural pride, belonging - and yes, inclusion.
There was no asking in what he said; it was a declaration and a reminder that all the nations that he shouted out in his roll call were part of America. That reminder was punctuated by his holding, and then throwing American football — of all things — that was inscribed with the phrase “Together, We Are America,” all while the Jumbotron behind him screamed the words he said at the Grammys a week earlier: The thing more powerful than hate is love.
Well, damn.
Who in the NFL signed off on that? I want to know who they are. They also knew the global audience they were talking to, including millions of Mexicans, Brazilians, Canadians, and Brits who are part of a growing number of American Football fans, thanks to the NFL’s decades-long push to expand the game outside America.
But I don’t want to distract you with the corporate motivations behind the storytelling. As real as they are. I want to focus on the emotional impact of Bad Bunny’s performance. The discussions and fan reactions, both positive and negative, only underscore what I’ve always known: You have to embrace who YOU are and tell it in the language that most represents you—no matter what language you speak. The honesty behind the words will always come through.
I learned this early in life. At 14, for an English language assignment, I chose to write a piece in which I had to step into someone else’s shoes.
I chose to write about one of Dad’s househunting nightmares in 1970s Scotland. It was a story that I couldn’t shake off, where my dad, knowing what he was up against, did what he could to get through the door, use his English name to appear safe, speak clearly - be a perfect candidate - only to have the door (literally) shut in his face when the landlord realized that the nice young man they were talking to, was in fact, a Black African man.
Sharing the story was scary. My father didn’t often share much, and his story felt sacred to me, and I didn’t want to dishonour that. But I did want to use my voice, my platform, to tell people his truth. And I didn’t want others doubting a story that was so painful to him – sharing stories like this in 90s England usually inspired gasps, denials, and plenty of gaslighting. But the act caught my teacher's attention and sparked a conversation in our class. And dad? He never gave away too much, but I think he was surprised that his story had impacted me so much that I wanted to write about it. And I think he was quietly moved.
Both of these stories underscore this: Vulnerability should be a cornerstone of your content strategy. Start at the heart of the matter. You can choose what you want to share – but once you decide, you’ve got to be willing to share, and go places you may not expect to go.
I’ll leave you with these two insights to chew on:
Embrace the High-Stakes Context: I know, I know. But it’s true. This is almost like reading the room. The challenge of your story—the hook, the stakes, and the truth in it- is what will help make your platform, speech, or piece impactful.
Honesty Closes the Narrative Gap.
Your clear feelings create a deep connection and resonance. This emotional feedback loop confirms that your vulnerability has successfully moved your audience.
Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear from you.
Christabel
P.S - If you’re loving what I’m writing, then tell them to subscribe and join the fun!