When we talk about complexity, whether in our lives or the world at large, there is a temptation to tell a simple story--a linear, cause-and-effect narrative. We want to grab people’s attention and bring them into something that matters to us. And sometimes in our pursuit of understanding and connection, we risk oversimplifying reality and missing an opportunity to gain a more complete picture of a system.

As a lifelong student of systems thinking—and someone who helps others integrate it into their lives—I’ve been excited by the growing recognition of the need for a systems thinking lens. But the value of a systems thinking lens extends beyond planning and implementing work—it is essential in how we tell the story of impact. It is moving from a simple story to a systems story.

The way we communicate about challenges and the people involved can either reinforce a simplistic narrative or honor the complexity of the systems at play. A systems story shifts our focus: from singular causes to interconnected factors and from conclusions to ongoing learning. When we tell a systems story, we resist the urge to reduce complexity into a neatly packaged explanation. Instead, we practice the Habits of a Systems Thinker, creating space for multiple perspectives, acknowledging both intended and unintended consequences, and allowing our understanding to evolve over time.

The Stories We Tell About Change

After a decade in international development, I’ve come to see that the stories we tell—whether in reports, social media, or everyday conversations—shape how people perceive communities, places, and even the field itself. One of the first stories I heard in international development was that when a community gains access to clean water, children can go to school, education improves, and quality of life increases. On the surface, this narrative is compelling and hopeful. It speaks to positive ripple effects and highlights the connections between systems.

When I left for my first trip to Guatemala’s Ixil Triangle to work on a water system project with Engineers Without Borders (EWB), I believed this story to be true. As I fundraised for the project I told it often, presenting the case that by investing in water infrastructure, you contribute to improving health, economic, and education outcomes. This narrative helped cast a wide net, engaging people with varied interests and passions.

My role on the team was community engagement, and over two weeks, I did this formally, through door-to-door surveys, women’s meetings, and community meetings, and informally, during soccer games, sharing atole (a hot corn drink), and hair-braiding circles. In addition to asking each household questions about water, I also asked “Do your children go to school?” Answers varied and did not deviate too far from the data I had reviewed before the trip. Some parents said no and some said yes, but only until primary school. One family told me they planned to send their son to high school when he was older. We would not know the impact of the water system until the following year when we collected post-implementation data, but I was eager. In one of our braiding circles, I asked a group of women if their children would go to school or go on to high school after the water system was built.

No one’s answer changed.

The community had a primary school, but the high school was in Nebaj (the nearest large town). In Guatemala, the first six years of public education are free [i], but for high school, families must cover the cost of tuition, school supplies, and uniforms. Since the high school was nearly two hours by bus, sometimes longer, some families have children stay in Nebaj during the week and return on the weekends. But they would need a relative their child could stay with or the money for room and board. Even within the village’s primary school, a teacher wasn’t always guaranteed.

And while school-aged children would no longer need to help gather water, the milpas (small family farms) still needed tending, firewood needed to be gathered, chores needed to be done, younger siblings needed looking after, in addition to many other livelihood tasks that needed completing. Access to water was just one piece of a much larger system, a series of interconnected systems, influencing education.

From Simple Stories to Systems Stories

In the five subsequent trips I made to the Ixil Triangle with EWB, I saw more evidence that the story of improved access to water means more children go to school was incomplete.  Improved access to water has many positive impacts on human development and quality of life in Ixil communities and communities around the world[ii]. And while some communities saw more children going to school after a water system was built, that was not the case for many.

When sharing impact with simple, incomplete stories, we increase the likelihood of unintended consequences. In this case, other significant barriers to education were not acknowledged, which could create false expectations among project stakeholders, lead to prioritization of interventions that fall short of addressing key needs, and overlook the knowledge and priorities of local families. But when we use the Habits of a Systems Thinker to tell a systems story - recognizing the connections within and between systems, considering an issue fully, and surfacing and testing our assumptions – we can open the door to new possibilities. Telling systems stories provides a more complete framing of impact, which can set the stage for collaboration. For example, while education policies or economic security were not in our circle of control, telling a systems story could help other education or economic organizations increase their understanding and leverage their circles of control.

A systems story also helps us be better stewards of the stories shared with us through practicing Habits like changing perspectives to increase understanding and considering how mental models affect current reality and the future. When we simplify complex realities, we make a judgment call on what is important. But that decision is not always ours to make, and we risk erasing the very voices and perspectives that should guide our understanding. Through telling a systems story, a greater breadth of complexity remains intact creating space for multiple perspectives to be included.

The stories we tell of impact and the communities we work alongside can also shape mental models. My relationships and experiences in the Ixil Triangle inspired my research on the connection between trust in government, reconciliation, and health outcomes in the region. As I combed through existing data, I saw a troubling pattern. There was ample information on poverty and discussion on the impact of La Violencia, the 30-year-long civil war that included acts of genocide against the Ixil people[iii]. But it seemed like everything else was missing. I did not see the people I knew fully reflected, but a single narrative of the pain and suffering in the region.

While the stories I read were true and important to tell, they were also incomplete. It made me wonder what the mental model of someone who had never been to the region would be of the Ixil people if they read the same stories. Telling systems stories is not only a matter of creating a more complete picture but is a way we honor the trust bestowed on us when someone tells us their story or lets us into their lives.

I still think about that moment in the braiding circle, when I asked if more children would go to school or high school after the water system was built. I had expected a different answer—one that fit the story I had told so many times before. But in reconciling with the dissolution of the simple story, I was able to learn the value of a systems story. Stories that are ever-evolving, sometimes generate more questions than answers, and help us better understand the fullness of the systems we are a part of.

What are the systems stories you want to tell?

Works Cited

[i]  American Association of Collegiate Registrars and Admissions Officers. (n.d.). Guatemala. AACRAO EDGE. Retrieved February 21, 2025, from https://www.aacrao.org/edge/country/guatemala

[ii]  Amorocho‐Daza, H., Van Der Zaag, P., & Sušnik, J. (2023). Access to Water‐Related Services Strongly Modulates Human Development. Earth's Future, 11(4), e2022EF003364.

[iii]  Comisión para el Esclarecimiento Histórico (CEH). (1999). Guatemala: Memory of silence (Tz’inil na’tab’al). United Nations, Office for Project Services. https://www.aaas.org/sites/default/files/s3fs-public/mos_en.pdf