Beacons at the Edge

How Story, Imagination, and Love Change the World

 

Craig Chalquist, PhD, PhD

Pronoia.org

June 2026

 

What if the very qualities we in the Global North neglect as utopian or impractical--inspiration, storytelling, imagination, creativity, celebration, love, togetherness, and hope--are those relied on by on-the-ground activists and community leaders making real, appreciable, and practical change in the Global South?
 

 

For me, this exploration began as an inquiry, but it has become a documentation of hope. 

 

The inquiry was part of a grant by Omega Resilience Awards as administered by Commonweal for building a program to train lamplighters: people who bring light to someone's world by showing them enlivening possibilities overlooked by their prevailing guiding narratives. These possibilities arise from our better selves: our higher, deeper human nature still alive below thick layers of distraction, denial, and self-alienation. Acts of lamplighting show us that a confining story we took as authoritative no longer is.

 

We all do this, because we're all lamplighters at some time or other. What if we could do it better?

 

To understand this more deeply, Audrey T. Williams and I met online over a year or so with change-makers and community leaders living and working in Latin America, India, and Africa. We listened to their stories of struggle and asked how large a role story, inspiration, and imagination played in their efforts toward building resilient forms of community. We also put together a survey sent out by Audrey in 2026; most of the quotations below come from what respondents told us.

 

The voices speaking below about vision, care, inspiration, and hope are not those of utopian theorists being sentimental about a better world. They are activists, leaders, ecologists, community-makers, and creators working under appallingly trying and often dangerous conditions. Every one of them said their work came out of necessity; and all expressed, in various ways, a strong ethical sensibility and deep awareness of the impact of economic injustice, destructive industrialization, and climate chaos.

 

All these brave people are edge-walkers balancing between what is and what should be. They are beacons of hope and inspiration for a world in need of light in a dark time.

 

Before we consider their visionary-practical work in the world, let's glance at who is involved.

 


 The Beacons

 

The respondents are not named herein because many work in high-risk situations. However, some provided links to organizations they wish the public to know about (listed later in this account).

 

So who are these people? They include:

 

A journalist, digital/TV reporter, and videographer in Kenya who reports on environment, conservation, climate change and sexual reproductive health, among other stories she believes go underreported.

 

An activist, poet, and co-founder of a founder of an Indian organization that brings ostracized gender minority people into the workforce.

 

A member of a Nigerian volunteer community that teaches young people to advocate for change through art, story, action education, and tree planting.

 

An executive director of an agency that fights passionately and publicly for the rights of people and lands poisoned by oil and gas extraction in Uganda.

 

A Congolese leader of a team that confronts deforestation, poisoned soils, and climate chaos by promoting locally grown clean agriculture.

 

An activist and community leader in Paraguay whose work opposses reckless lithium mining with local home-building.

 

A member of a university health team in Argentina in conversation with towns fumigated by Global North agribusinesses and damaged by extractavism (looting of natural resources).

 

A member of a community organization meeting Congolese shortages of farmers driven away by war by turning food waste into fertilizer to grow foods in short supply.

 

A Latin American social worker in a field action project that works with women newly released from prison or from situations of sexual exploitation.

 

An indigenous Columbian biologist and environment and development grad student integrating technical tools with traditional knowledge to address climate crisis and biodiversity loss.

 

A Mexican consultant and researcher working on strengthening the community-led democracy of local community energy transition and management.

 

A visual artist in an Indian community that confronts regional ecological and cultural harm by focusing on sustainability and environmental impact through art, education, and practical learning.

 

A Paraguayan collective opposing groundwater depletion, land speculation, wetlands destruction, haphazard urban development, and other ecological and cultural perils.

 

Probably all would agree with this moving comment made by one respondent:

 

I often feel that it may already be too late to imagine an ideal or “perfect” future. Too much has been lost—ecologically, culturally, and socially. But I don’t see this as a reason to stop; rather, it makes the work more urgent and meaningful.

 

What I hope to build through my work is a bridge—a bridge between what once existed and what is still possible. Many of the worlds we have lost continue to survive in fragments: in memories, in seeds, in landscapes that are still holding on, and in the knowledge of people who remember.

 

For me, this bridge is about reconnecting with those fragments in order to shape our future differently. It is about recovering relationships—with land, with community, and with ways of living that were more attuned to ecological balance. If this connection can be rebuilt, even partially, it can influence how we imagine our futures and aspirations—not as something detached from the past, but as something deeply rooted in it.

 

That, to me, is a meaningful and hopeful direction: not restoring what was lost entirely, but ensuring that its essence continues to guide what comes next.

 

 

The Power of Restorying

 

All fifteen survey respondents mentioned some kind of storytelling as key to making change: storytelling through information sharing, video, photography, performance, art, theater, music, exhibitions, celebration, ritual, poetry, pop culture resources, and age-old in-person orally told tales. For example:

 

One of my biggest successes has been using writing as a powerful tool of activism. My poems, which reflect the lived realities and resilience of our community, have been included in the curriculum at Kuvempu University, Shivamogga, and Rani Chennamma University, Belagavi. Seeing my work reach students and spark conversations in academic spaces has been a deeply meaningful achievement, and it reinforces my belief in the power of art and education to bring social change.

 

The arts and humanities play a vital role in my work. For instance, I have used storytelling, music, and poetry to amplify the voices of affected communities and convey the impacts of oil and gas projects. These have helped me to convey the emotional and cultural toll of environmental degradation and mobilise emotions and inspire action among wider audiences.

 

The arts and humanities have played a vital role in shaping both my personal journey and my work...Through my work, I continue to use theatre, storytelling, and creative expression as tools for social change, awareness, and inclusion.

 

Some of the storytelling was informal and intimate:

 

Narratives are contemporary - from the women I engage with.  It comes from their daily interactions and reflections. There is profound wisdom they carry.

 

Effective storytelling often transcends languages even while including and honoring them:

 

Music, oral storytelling, poetry, ñai’ũpo ceramics, screen printing, illustration, and audiovisual productions are some of the artistic practices that have been present in our work to date. Through these languages, we are able to express sensitive dimensions of the territory that cannot always be captured by other approaches.

 

...Transformation is built upon micronarratives—everyday, collective, and situated stories shared by local inhabitants (and, in particular, by local women)—in which mutual care, interconnectedness, and reciprocity manifest as living practices. These experiences sustain and transmit alternative ways of inhabiting the land—ways that are more sensitive and responsible. In this sense, we speak of “bodies of water” rather than “water resources,” for we understand water as a living entity.

 

Poetry and poetic language are held as integral to both community and ecological awareness:

 

Poetic writing and the chronicle have served as tools to make visible the communal experience and to translate emotions into languages that mobilize.

 

A small list of words in the Guaraní language comes to mind that, through lexical morphology, condenses the importance of water as the first and essential element for life. For us it works like a poem:

 

Y - Water

Ykua - Water Hole

Yvy - Earth

Yvyra - Branch

Ysyry - Water Current

Yvytu - Wind

Yvoty - Flower

Ysapy - Rocío

Yva - Fruit

Yvaga - Heaven

Yvyporã - Person

 

These words help us think and transmit a vision of the world based on interdependence. The list or poem begins with the word “y” which means “water” and phonetically it is pronounced in a very particular way in Guaraní. It continues with multiple words that begin with this root (“and”), the basis of multiple fundamental concepts, reminding us that water is the origin, support and link of life. The list closes with the word “Yvyporã,” reminding us that we ourselves are a body of water too.

 

Some respondents reported drawing on traditional tales for strength, wisdom, and guidance:

 

Some of the stories [we use] came from tradition, such as the concept of 'Mother Earth.' In our traditions, the earth is a living entity that must be fed so it can feed us in return.

 

Another example was stories of traditional farmers who “naturally practiced circular economy by returning to the earth what they took from it.” These farmers also served as models of wise action.

 

However, some tales when used to oppress need challenging and rewriting:

 

Through my work, I am actively challenging and rewriting several historically dominant narratives about gender and sexual minority communities in India.

 

I focus on challenging the narrative put forward by the Ugandan government that the country needs oil to develop.

 

Stories being challenged also include “the narrative that [food] waste is 'dirty' and useless, and that agricultural progress requires industrial chemicals. We are rewriting the story of clean agriculture that is proud of its organic roots.”

 

This proposal contributes to a global narrative shift by directly challenging one of the most widespread ideas underpinning the notion of “progress”: namely, that water is merely a resource available for human use, control, and exploitation. In contrast to this perspective, we propose a fundamental shift in how we understand and relate to water.

 

Another example of pushing back on oppressive stories:

 

We actively challenge several dominant narratives:

That conflict-affected communities are only passive recipients of aid;

That waste is a problem rather than a resource;

That innovation only comes from outside Africa.

 

Through our work, we show that even in fragile contexts, communities can design and implement practical, scalable solutions.

 

Another:

 

The dominant narrative has portrayed rural communities as dependent and lacking the capacity for self-management. Community support initiatives—such as the one currently underway in the Sierra de Santa Marta in southern Veracruz, which involves the installation of a community-owned microturbine to power shared spaces within the community of Ocozotepec—demonstrate that these communities are fully capable of leading processes of energy transition and energy democratization.

 

Nor are the stories confined to the human sphere of action:

 

There are also quieter influences—learnings that come from being part of a farming culture, from observing elders, seasonal rhythms, and the intimate [storied] knowledge systems that exist within rural life. These may not always be formally articulated as “training,” but they shape one’s understanding in profound ways.


 

Inspiration as a Force for Making Change

 

I have been deeply inspired by experiments within creative and cultural histories where artists have stepped outside conventional spaces and engaged directly with communities, land, and processes. These practices opened up possibilities for me—to see art not just as an object or image, but as a way of being, participating, and responding.

 

All respondents mentioned inspiration: “I need to feel inspired to do anything”; “It is the strengthening that helps us grow as a community.” In the words of one Latin American respondent, “What inspires us are future generations...and the memory of those who made it possible for us to be here now.” Also, “Inspiration stems from the resilience of women, the creativity of youth, and the wisdom of elders.”

 

Inspiration plays a very important role in my work—it forms the foundation of how I think and act. Much of what I do is shaped by observing others, often through small but meaningful actions that resist or respond to challenges in creative ways.

 

Inspiration is:

 

Fundamental. I find inspiration in nature, in relationships, in music, in art—in children, and in silence.

 

Inspiration is essential. We find it in the biological miracle of decomposition turning into new life, and in the pride of farmers who see their yields increase naturally.

 

Inspiration is very important in my work—both for sustaining my own energy and for motivating others around me. I find inspiration every time I meet new individuals, listen to their stories, and understand their lives. Traveling to different places and experiencing diverse societies also inspires me deeply. These interactions broaden my perspective, remind me of our shared humanity, and strengthen my commitment to creating a more inclusive world.

 

For me, inspiration is everything and comes from community resistance and resilience, youth activism and solidarity collaborations among people of different backgrounds and cultures from local to global levels.

 

Inspiration entails recognizing that rationality is not the sole means of understanding the world. The senses, emotions, and affections also serve as legitimate forms of knowledge. We find it in all the ways in which life expresses itself genuinely—in children, in the song of birds, in the movement of water, and in the words of our elders.

 

Inspiration is often linked by respondents with appreciation for the natural world, as here:

 

We find inspiration in many places: in the stories and experiences of our elderly neighbors, in ancestral wisdom linked to water, in community spaces, in the fresh ideas of the youth, and in the nature that surrounds us. It resides in the rhythms of the land—in its shifts and changes, and in the way water expresses itself, flows, adapts, and never forgets what it once was.

 

El tejido, la poesía y la música son expresiones vivas de la relación con el territorio. A través de ellas la memoria se activa, se transmite y se transforma. (Weaving, poetry, and music are living expressions of the relationship with the land. Through them, memory is activated, transmitted, and transformed.)


 

Imagining Change

 

“Imagination allows us to see beyond the current instability.” Imagining is a big-picture activity that can also focus on present practicalities and challenges.

 

Instead of being seen as an escape from reality, imagination is held as key to the hard work of community-building and change-making:

 

Imagination is helpful to explore a safer and just climate future...I want more imagination work to be free flowing—allowing people to take it wherever they like and guiding them through the process.

 

The future I imagine through my work is one where social inclusion is a lived reality, not just an idea. I envision a society where every person—regardless of gender identity, sexuality, caste, or background—can live a dignified life with freedom and respect...Ultimately, I hope for a world where diversity is celebrated, rights are protected, and everyone can live with pride and belonging.

 

Some imaginings are not vaguely utopian, but specific in detail:

 

We envision a future where:

Communities are food-secure and economically resilient;

Urban waste is systematically transformed into agricultural inputs;

Local ecological solutions replace dependency on imported products;

Ultimately, we want to see decentralized, community-led systems that sustain themselves even in times of crisis.

 

Zero-waste cities where every household participates in soil regeneration, and fertile green belts feed populations without destroying the health of the planet.

 

A future where communities in Uganda and beyond are thriving, with access to clean energy, water, and air. Where the EACOP project and other fossil fuel developments are replaced by renewable energy solutions, prioritizing people and the planet over profits. Where youth and women lead the charge on climate justice, shaping policies and decisions that ensure a sustainable and equitable future for all. A future where environmental protection and human rights are valued above economic interests, and where communities are empowered to make informed decisions about their own development.

 

Nor is imagination held as a separate faculty. Rather, it aligns with taking action:

 

By holding this vision together, we stay aligned, purposeful, and grounded in the belief that real change is possible. Our collective work becomes not just activism, but a continuous effort to bring that inclusive future into reality.

 

Imagination helps me to challenge systems and structures that perpetuate environmental degradation and social injustice, and this helps me to Foster collaboration and solidarity among diverse stakeholders.

 

Some respondents referred to "visions" in the sense of envisioning:

 

These visions are not merely projections into the future, but serve as a concrete guide for our decisions in the present. They function as an ethical and political horizon that steers both our own work and that of our collaborators.

 

In practice, they influence how we design our actions. We prioritize participatory processes, collective work, and active listening. We strive to ensure that every initiative—whether involving research, mapping, or pedagogical exchange—strengthens the bond between people and their territory, and consolidates a shared environmental and community identity.

 

This kind of envisioning and imagining embraces scientific knowledge in service to practical goals:

 

Furthermore, we endeavor to ground our work in the expertise of recognized professionals across various fields, as well as in scientific knowledge and verifiable data. We systematically document every process we undertake, recognizing that this information is key to substantiating and reinforcing our actions.

 

This foundation enables us not only to evaluate our work but also to access concrete tools for influencing public policy—specifically by demanding higher levels of protection, care, and investment from the local municipality and other governmental institutions in our area.

 

At the same time, imagining is valued as an expansive activity not always bound to the here and now:

 

We imagine organized communities where bodies of water are understood and protected—not merely as sources of supply, but as spaces of life, memory, and encounter. It is a future in which our relationship with water is no longer guided by a logic of exploitation, but is instead grounded in respect, sensitivity, and active listening.

 

Overall, imagining foregrounds

 

A better quality of life, unity, strength, and hope.
 

 

Beyond the Individual Hero

 

Activists, community-builders, and change-creators who work post-heroically beyond the Western obsession with individual saviors and heroes speak often and eloquently about the power of kinship, community, and belonging. Working against the backdrop of a globalized world where they are exposed to Western individualism, they have nevertheless drawn their ideas from the communalist practices of their ancestors and other related peoples.

 

For example, one respondent named ubuntu as a motivation for their culture-changing work. This word - actually an entire lived philosophy - originates in sub-Saharan Africa and has been translated, "A person is a person through other people" (in Zulu, Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu). Ubunto includes personal and collective responsibility, empathy, belonging, and relationality: the very opposite of Western/Global North hyper-individualism, apathy, and greed.

 

The theme of interdependence repeated throughout the conversations and the survey responses. For example:

 

...Our primary perspective is one of interdependence; consequently, the ultimate aim of our practices is to strengthen the environmental and community identity of the inhabitants of Guarambaré, Paraguay, as well as anyone else who engages with our initiatives. Without a deeply rooted identity, it is impossible to forge a relationship with the land that is neither hierarchical nor extractive.

 

I understand that the work consists constantly of cultivating empathy and respect, and the possibility of integrating worlds.

 

"My grandfather often said 'Abuo dinma karia otuu': meaning two is so much better than one.” As someone else put it: “Trabajando comunitariamente para un progreso mejor” (Working together for better progress).

 

In a similar vein:

 

In my culture, there's a saying that, "A single tree cannot make a forest." This proverb speaks to the importance of community and collective action. It reminds me that our individual efforts, though valuable, are strengthened when combined with the efforts of others. It inspires me to work collaboratively, to support and be supported, and to recognize that together, we can achieve far more than we could alone. This wisdom sustains me in the face of challenges and motivates me to continue building alliances and partnerships for climate justice.

 

“Words without action are empty; action without words is blind; action and words outside the spirit of the community are death.” —Nasa Pal Álvaro Ulcué Chocué.

 

Some respondents included ancestors and elders in their circle of support and belonging.

 

Education as an immersive and collective - not just personal - resource was also emphasized:

 

I believe that education is one of the greatest weapons for change, and the younger generation plays a vital role in shaping an inclusive society. For me, these values are non-negotiable. When we educate and enlighten society, we create the foundation for social acceptance, dignity, and equality. Education and youth together have the power to transform mindsets and build a world where everyone can live with respect.”

 

Education valued as vital for change-making and community resilience was not only mental, but included the embodied nature of knowing and perceiving in relation to self, others, and the land:

 

Since I was very young, I have watched how my parents, my elders, and those who served as teachers in my community taught me to observe, to listen, and to understand the territory. I learned that monitoring is not merely about measuring, but about senti-vivenciar—experiencing with both heart and senses—interpreting, and engaging in a relationship with life itself. It also stems from watching children explore, ask questions, touch the earth, follow the course of the water, and name the things they see. Through all of this, I came to understand that knowledge is not separate from daily life, but rather is constructed within the community and in relationship with the surrounding environment.

 

The sense of responsibility in such education carries strong ethical implications:

 

At the core of my worldview is a simple but uncompromising belief: we do not have the right to deny future generations the resources that we ourselves have inherited and benefited from. This feels non-negotiable to me. I often think about how naturally we accumulate wealth, land, or security for our children, with a sense of responsibility and care. Yet, we rarely extend that same commitment to the natural world that sustains life itself. For me, this is a contradiction we must confront. The forests, water systems, soil, and biodiversity that we have today are not just resources—they are inheritances. To degrade or exhaust them is, in a way, to diminish the future.

 

 

Barriers, Successes, and Hope

 

Barriers to doing good work in the world include tight finances and lack of funding, ostracism, struggles with feelings of overwhelm, insufficient media coverage, government restrictions and intimidation directed at what should be free speech and the right of assembly, using English in circles where the language is considered "the other," and lack of access to technical resources:

 

...Having access to technical support—such as help with  documentation, digital storytelling, and media tools—and financial resources would greatly strengthen my ability to share my story on larger platforms. With the right guidance and support, I would be able to amplify my community’s voice more powerfully and reach a much wider audience.

 

Needed: “Digital storytelling tools (video/photography) and access to international platforms to showcase how local African initiatives are leading climate innovation. The main barrier is the lack of professional communication resources.” Also needed: “Support in communication, storytelling tools, and visibility would greatly help amplify our work.”

 

The need for self-care came up:

 

The climate activism work hasn't been an easy journey for me, and alot of obstacles have happened during my climate justice work. But I do celebrate my achievements, however small they may be and I recognise that activism can be emotionally draining. This is why I prioritise celebration and self-care to sustain myself and our communities. I do this through organising community gatherings for storytelling sessions, and I use music, dance and art to express myself, build connections, and foster joy.

 

Self-care included acknowledging needs for rest, play, self-reflection (collective and personal), mindfulness practices, seeking and getting support, “love and tenderness,” “spaces for enjoyment and interaction,” slowing down, conscious nature contact, holding parties, embracing joy, and having kindred souls to talk with about the work, the fears, the aspirations. "We want to work a lot, but we have to be well....and work on ourselves too."

 

It is also important to celebrate successes of which there were many: indigenous community work recognized nationally; a girl “marked” to marry going to school instead; protecting biodiversity from local biopiracy; seeing youth learn to believe in their own “crazy ideas”; seeing youth mobilized to take leadership roles in climate justice advocacy; seeing one's creative efforts become part of the curriculum at university; “having women co-write with me”; watching grassroots activism and community projects change national and international decision-making; companies held accountable for discharging waste into rivers while restoration and repair projects gain ground; showing how urban food waste “can be transformed into high-quality, competitive organic fertilizeer while creating local jobs.”

 

Every harvest achieved with our organic fertilizer is a celebration. We share the success stories of local farmers as victory narratives against soil poverty and climate despair.

 

Celebration happens when communities begin to see results—when crops improve, when waste is reduced, when people regain a sense of control.

 

In the Global North, with occasional exceptions (e.g. Rebecca Solnit), hope is sometimes disparaged as a form of denial. "Hope takes us away from where we are," James Hillman declared, failing to distinguish between false hope and the more authentic kind: what Joanna Macy called "active hope." Hope that strives, that does not wait for saviors or wealthy influencers, is implied in the Spanish word esperar: not only to hope, but to wait for, look out for, and expect, including by implication to stay in expectation of an anticipated future.

 

Remaining hopeful is important, empowering speaking up "even when the voice shakes." Hope is also wedded to action: “We don't just see ourselves as fertilizer producers: we see ourselves as cultivators of hope and autonomy.” In a meeting, a grant recipient said to representatives of ORA and Commonweal, "You helped confirm hope for me. I am happy there are places like this." From a meeting: "We are so many, and there are still many more, and I am full of hope."

 

 

Conversations and Accounts

 

During a particularly moving meeting with our mentors in change-making, I took some notes to reflect the vital themes popping up:

 

Themes throughout the conversation included poetry, beauty, birth in the midst of endings and difficulties. An absence of bitterness and complaining. Worldwide fellowship. "Sad, but hope of a better world." Love is so important to the work. And joy. The importance of being part of a humane community.

 

Acknowledgment of bravery. From a Paraguay Fellow: "We were the ones who could create and see together with the community we work with." Recovering knowledge (environmental) from the elders.

 

These are hard times for the community of people who love nature, but incredible things are being done together all over the world.

 

From Chile, paraphrased: The research we did helped us to understand our environmental work from a scientific standpoint. The science helped affirm current and traditional cultural knowings and the need for an "ethics of love and care." Also, "connection with ancestral presences" is vital not only for the planet but "for good living."

 

Someone spoke movingly of a worldwide rebellion against "extractivism," but anchored in love.

 

A Nigerian Fellow commented about seeing dreams coming into being. "Friendships made along the way really make life beautiful."

 

This work, someone remarked, was "wonderful and life-changing." A web of healing. 

 

From India: This was a space one can go back to on a bad day. Hearing different voices, different perspectives, new words and stories across different geographies. Grateful for relationships. Grateful for funding offered in trust, without strings or micromanaging.

 

From Latin America: acknowledging that it's tiring to protect what matters, e.g. vanishing glaciers. Challenges in all our territories; the level of pressure we are living. Need to care for ourselves and environment both. To tend the "frequency and humanity" that connects us. Our projects connect us: "In our projects we can be ourselves." That strengthens both activism and the network that links us.

 

From India: "What I do is not work, it is what I am supposed to do." This work is painful all the time, but the friendships and laughter helps against despair and hopelessness. "We will make this world what we want it."

 

Fellowship in the world helps slow down the generational cycles of violence.

 

An Indian Fellow spoke of moving beyond just "resistance," which can reinforce the system being resisted, into "renewal."

 

A song: "Here we are / Far away from home / Yes we love you / Still we need to for the things you will do with us...." And a closing poem, "We Come From the Future," by Nigerian poet Nnimmo Bassey, modified from the original (which is here).

 

A Pan-Africanist from Kenya suggested using "the-future" as one living word.

 

What we learned about the importance of inspiration, restorying, imagination, and hope from both our survey and from listening to ORA Fellows and Anchors echoes throughout the online writings either from or about ORA grant award recipients. Their stories include accounts of

 

 

For more inspiring examples of story, image, and community creativity for change, see the Stories page at the ORA website.

 

The New School at Commonweal has a library of similarly inspiring and change-making courses and presentations.

 

 

Organizations to Support

 

These organizations are run by courageous, creative, and passionate people making real change in the world. They deserve all the exposure and support we can offer them: