The Stage is Set: Why Creative Storytelling is your Secret Weapon in Low Trust Communities

We've all been there: you design the perfect leaflet, book the ideal venue, and wait... and wait. In communities burdened by a history of unfulfilled promises – places like "The Forgotten Land" on the edge of Plymouth, where trust is a rare commodity – traditional outreach falls flat. People feel "consulted" but not cared for, leading to deep apathy. So, how do you break through the cynicism and truly engage a community to improve their own place?
Our answer was to swap the boardroom for the stage, and the formal invitation for a captivating performance.

From Leaflets to Laughter: The Power of Performance

Our initial attempt at a "co-design workshop" yielded zero attendees. It was a stark lesson: impersonal invitations don't cut it in low-trust environments. We had to think differently. A group of us put our heads together, grappling with the challenge of engaging people who felt overlooked and untrusting.
The breakthrough came when we partnered with By The Horns Theatre, a local theatre company. This was our winning formula. JJ, who prepared and delivered the performance, truly immersed himself in the community's context. He didn't just perform for them; he performed their story. The show revolved around the "21 bus that goes to Barne Barton," a detail deeply familiar to residents.
We made it fun and engaging, crafting an "escape room" themed performance about the bus driver's last journey, with passengers providing clues to unlock his memories. As one spectator powerfully commented, "We told people their story back to them." This wasn't just entertainment; it was recognition. We connected with people around the ordinary yet meaningful aspects of their daily lives, things they could instantly identify with.
One performance was delivered by the BIP team and this further enhanced the connection, as the team were able to entice  / encourage audience members directly and we had 2 participants in the full 14 week co creation process as a result.

Going to Them: Visibility and Validation

Crucially, we didn't ask people to come to us. We took the performance to family fun days – five events held over the summer in places where people already gathered, often run by local groups. This visibility was key. We weren't a faceless organisation parachuting in; we were present, chatting to people, getting recognized over multiple events. This consistent presence slowly began to chip away at the ingrained skepticism. This adaptation to create connection was inspired by us getting creative and finding out about these events through conversations with local people and workers, in the face of stuckness, i.e. having tried leaflets and failed to engage anyone! It also helped having some connections due to our connection to or employment with Plymouth Octopus, who were very active in supporting grassroots community groups and other networks - key learning is to use a relational approach and build of established relationships to build wider connection. 
This approach also allowed us to connect with individuals who already held community trust. We weren't just looking for organizational buy-in, but for those unsung heroes – like the amazing family support worker at the local primary school – who had existing, genuine relationships. They became invaluable bridges, confirming what we already suspected: when people feel forgotten, trust is earned through consistent, personal presence, not just formal outreach.

The Unforeseen Triumph: More Residents, Deeper Commitment

The results were beyond our wildest hopes. We'd aimed for perhaps 20 people to attend our initial co-design session. Instead, 37 people showed up, and over 30 committed to a series of 13 weekly, two-hour co-design workshops!
The majority of these committed participants were local residents, outnumbering practitioners from any single organization. Some even brought their babies and dogs – a testament to the safe, accommodating space we created in their own place, a venue they were already familiar with.
Beyond the engaging performance and convenient location, other incentives played a vital role:

• Valued Contributions: We ensured that local residents were remunerated for their time (£15 an hour or vouchers), signaling that their insights were genuinely valued, not just sought for free.
• Skill Development: We promised opportunities to learn new skills, appealing to personal growth.
• Community Impact: Crucially, we emphasized that their efforts would directly benefit their community, and they would have a say in how associated funding was spent.

Making it OK: The Human Facilitator

Even the invitation session itself became part of the performance. Our facilitator, whether by design or spontaneous charm, adopted a light-hearted, almost self-deprecating approach. He wasn't a "professional" speaking in impenetrable jargon. He was welcoming, fun, and even a little silly. This made it "okay" for people who had never done anything like it before to take a leap of faith and say, "Yeah, I'll give it a go."
This combination of creative storytelling, consistent presence in their spaces, genuine remuneration, and a welcoming, human approach transformed a challenge of low trust into a vibrant, committed partnership. We didn't just invite people to a workshop; we invited them to be part of their story, unfolding in their place, with their voices leading the way. And that, we discovered, is the true art of invitation.