Hybrid Storytelling: When Tech Meets Human Voice

All month long, I will explore “the power of story.” Increasingly, “story” is used as a buzzword to brand projects or people as unique, inclusive, or person-centered. I, too, am guilty of leaning on the phrase “the power of story.” But a story isn’t powerful because we declare it so. It is powerful because of what it reveals about individuality, relationships, and meaning-making as it evolves through time. In this blog, I discuss how I use AI without losing my voice and some practical tips to maintain authenticity.

I have vivid memories of my learning how to write an essay: my mom sitting with me at the kitchen table, red pen in hand. She would mark up my essays and insert words I didn’t even know yet. I responded to her criticism with tears and some dramatic statement that “my work no longer felt like my own.” Although she responded with frustration to my dramatic retort, she was also pushing me to grow. Before you pass judgment on her teaching style, here’s the important part: she told me, “Kyle, every great writer needs an editor.”

What she meant—and what I eventually learned—is that writing (and creating) is rarely a solo act. I could put my best ideas on paper, but that didn’t mean they were always clearly communicated. Sometimes we need another perspective to see our blind spots, refine our phrasing, or expand our vocabulary. My mom patiently explained the meaning of words such as elicit or extrapolate, then bluntly said, “There, now you know it. Can you use it now?”

This lesson is at the heart of qualitative research and narrative inquiry. Stories, whether in an essay or an interview transcript, don’t exist in isolation. Meaning emerges through collaboration: between writer and editor, researcher and participant, individual voice and collective interpretation, or human and technology. And, with every layer of interpretation comes responsibility.

The real issue isn’t the tool—it’s the ethics guiding its use.

In academia, I learned early that there are no completely original ideas. It was my responsibility to synthesize others’ work, cite it properly, and weave my voice into an ongoing conversation. That practice was humbling, but also motivating: it showed me how my writing could enter into dialogue with something larger than myself. As researchers, we collect, code, and interpret stories, but meaning transforms through interaction. AI, when used intentionally, can contribute another layer in collaboration: a tool that helps us see connections, reframe ideas, and question the clarity of our interpretations.

Of course, abuse exists. We have seen how AI makes plagiarism easier. Not everyone approaches AI with the same discernment, and that matters. Will people misuse it? Absolutely. But like any powerful tool, the responsibility lies with us. AI doesn’t replace human creativity or integrity—it reflects it.

Over time, I moved away from that kitchen table and found new tools to fill the role of “editor”: spell check, Word thesaurus, Google, Grammarly—and now AI. When AI became widely available, I was cautiously curious. As you can tell, I need my writing to feel like me. Authenticity is always my starting point. But I also know I’m better when my work is sharpened through collaboration. So perhaps the better question isn’t, “Will AI harm storytelling?” but rather, “How can we take responsibility for the choices we make with AI so that our use of technology strengthens, not silences, the human voices at the center of our stories?”

 Edited with assistance from ChatGPT and my mom.

Practical Tips: Using AI Without Losing Your Voice

·      Start with your own draft. Don’t ask AI to create from scratch. Use it to clarify or reframe what you’ve already written.

·      Clean your content first. Remove proprietary details, personal information, or data you wouldn’t want in a public forum.

·      Keep the final say. Treat AI like an editor, not an author—you always have the choice to accept, reject, or adapt its suggestions.