How to tell sensitive stories with a podcast
Content Note: Although there are no descriptions of sexual violence in the below podcast series, any conversation about sexual violence can bring up big feelings and be hard to hear. Listen in a way that feels safer for you. You get to choose.
Podcasts are one of the best ways to build empathy and understanding. My favourite ones impact how I navigate the world, taking me outside of my comfort zone while being clever enough to become fully immersive through narration and goosebump-inducing sound design.
When it comes to podcasts that cover trauma, sexual assault, and racism, there is a careful balance that producers must strike. Many podcasts that explore sensitive topics also aim to foster community – one that is empowering and not ignorant to the weight of the conversations they share.
Healing Comes in Waves is a new podcast series from Toronto Metropolitan University and Consent Comes First that navigates conversations about sexual assault with compassion. Host Farrah Khan, a gender-justice advocate and the founder of Possibility Seeds, unpacks the complex realities that sexual assault survivors face – from navigating the justice system and practicing self-care to acknowledging social inequities and seeking accountability.
The series is a wonderful example of tapping into the medium of podcasting in a conscientious and respectful way to make an impact on its listener.
Here are four ways to tell sensitive, trauma-informed stories through podcasting.
1. Show don’t tell.
A stand-out episode for me is the second episode with Glen Canning, father of the late Rehtaeh Parsons, who died by suicide on April 7th, 2013 at the age of 17.
The episode tells the story of Glen’s loss and his fight against cyberbullying and sexual assault. He talks about ways to better support children who have been sexually assaulted.
“Make sure that your child knows that you love them, no matter what. Make sure that you tell them that they are safe. And let them know that, whatever it is that happened, it wasn’t their fault.
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It also unveils a larger theme without pointing to it directly: the power of a supportive male figure and the impact of allyship and empathy from men.
“[Rehteah] said, ‘What I want you to do is just keep being my dad. Because when I’m with you, I can forget that happened.’ So, we could go to the movies and we could have fun and we could go to the park, like we always used to do. I just created a safe place where she could find some peace.”
As Glen talks about his anxiety around supporting his daughter, the emotional significance of seeing Retaeh’s mother on television, and his own experience of sexual assault as a young boy, I felt a sense of shared empathy and sorrow for him. It also made me reflect on the male relationships in my life and how safe they make me feel.
“As a man going through it, there are times where you get very, very angry. But a lot really depends on how you’re going to use that anger – so you’ve got to keep that in check.”
The episode subtly articulates the hurt and helplessness that many sexual assault survivors feel, and those emotions often come out as anger. But too often, that anger is ignored and brushed off as “too aggressive” – not palatable enough for allyship.
By revealing what powerful allyship feels like, this episode makes a serious impact.
2. Avoid exploitation.
The ethics of trauma reporting is a big conversation in the podcasting space. Critics have started to express their discomfort with the true crime genre – particularly the exploitative nature of shows that share intimate and horrific details of sexual assault and murder. Other podcasts essentially glamourize perpetrators of violence and leave victims and survivors objectified.
The thing is, “True Crime” isn’t entertainment, it’s someone’s trauma. Someone’s life. In the oversaturated true crime genre, it feels difficult to find sensitive stories treated with care.
When it comes to trauma reporting, Healing Comes in Waves handles it well. Especially in their interview with Farzana Doctor, a therapist and survivor of genital mutilation.
We never learn the details of Farzana’s trauma; when it happened; how it happened; what happened. As a listener, we only learn that it did happen, and that is impactful enough.
Farzana speaks about how some survivors may struggle to find therapists who can adequately counsel individuals who have experienced genital mutilation, or khatna.
“There hasn’t been nearly enough education for therapists – or anybody really – around female genital cutting. For a lot of people, they have a very visceral flinch response. There can be shock. Well-intentioned therapists can end up saying really racist things about our communities.”
There’s also a moment where Farzana talks about common trauma responses in kids:
“It’s so much safer to turn the blame and shame inward than point it in the direction of the adult who has betrayed, neglected, or failed us. We’re dependent on those people. And so, we say, ‘I must have done something. I caused this. I asked for it.’ Turning a compassionate gaze to the child inside of us that survived is a first step.””
3. Read the room.
One of the most intense episodes features a long conversation between Anwen, a sexual assault survivor, and Sameer, the person who perpetrated the assault.
In instances like this, there’s no need for suspenseful background music, plucky narration, or immersive sound design.
The simplicity of the format can make a strong impact: to hear the intonation in Anwen’s voice as she explains how she held Sameer accountable, and to hear the words Sameer chose to express sincerity and remorse. They describe the process of undergoing a transformative justice process, which involved Anwen writing an impact statement that Sameer read.
“Reading about her experience, yeah, I felt like a monster at the time, but it was also needed. It forced me to ask myself, ‘Why am I continuing to perpetrate this harm? Or act like this? Or think that this is an okay behaviour?”
We also get a glimpse into the complex emotions involved when facing your perpetrator and insisting they do better.
“Me asking Sameer to be accountable was not angelic. If anything, it was retribution. Accountability is way harder than just getting a slap on the wrist. People telling me that I was doing this wonderful good thing was – and is still – really hard for me to hear.
I feel like it puts me in this box of “angelic survivor.” And that’s not it. Yes, I forgave. But I was also very, very angry and very hurt. That was surprising to me: everyone who I encountered around this process thought me angelic, when what I felt was this deep anger.”
4. Find the right person.
The same way that I, as a white, cis, settler woman, am not the right person to speak on the experiences of Indigenous peoples in Canada, podcasts must take a critical look at whether or not they can truly speak on a topic, or should instead find the right person to lend their platform to.
When it comes to sensitive topics, it’s critical that hosts approach storytelling from a place of empathy, compassion, and openness. Farrah is a survivor of sexual assault, as she explains at the top of each episode, which makes her a powerful voice in each interview.
But what makes Farrah’s hosting so wonderful is that she’s careful with her words. She isn’t afraid to take breaks during her interviews and to check in with her listener, too.
She understands the weight of listening to these stories, especially when many of her listeners are likely survivors themselves. This is something many podcasts that explore trauma and the experience of violence can learn from.
Ren Bangert, Michal Stein, and Katie Jensen took over a year to produce this series – close to 400 hours! – and podcasts that cover sensitive topics should always take time to do it right. Listening to the show, it’s obvious the team took care in scripting, music selection, and finding the right people to tell important stories.
Listen to all the episodes here and visit the show website here.