When people navigate crisis, transition, or are simply holding on, they carry stories. Some come easily. Others stay quiet for a while—woven into memory, or routine. But being able to name where you’ve been, what you’ve held, and what you hope for—deserves space, time and attention. 

That’s where Journey Mapping comes in- a tool that invites people to reflect, to chart their path through hardship, hope, and the in-between.

Typically, we approach it in a fairly structured way. A timeline. A series of questions. But in Bihar, we were stepping into stories in a setting where we didn’t share language fluently. Many of the families we met, all from marginalised communities, haven’t had the opportunity to learn how to read or write. And yet, we were asking them to participate in a process usually heavy with words.

How do we create a space that feels safe, not extractive? 

How do we value what people already know—even if they don’t say it in formal words? 

How do we design with others in mind-and trust them to carry it forward? 

Context is crucial. As someone once said, context is the difference between being heard and being truly understood. 

A Familiar Framework

We had done Journey Mapping before—in a very different setting. In the U.S., we shaped the Journey Mapping process through concentric circles—a clean visual of progress, moving outward from suffering to stability. It worked well there, where the language of personal growth and systems thinking was more familiar. 

But as we thought of Bihar, we knew that model would not translate. As a small team of three on our first India-based project, we were still finding our footing- learning to adapt as we went, guided as much by discovery as by planning.  

That’s when we came across the Bodhi tree—rooted in Bihar’s spiritual and cultural soil, the tree is rich with meaning. By mapping stories onto its roots, trunk, and branches, we offered a visual language people already spoke. We had social workers who’ve walked alongside these communities facilitate and record their responses.

The Roots

The roots symbolised childhood—the early environments and responsibilities that quietly shaped a person’s relationship to work. Some spoke of early strength; others, of burdens carried long before choice was possible.

The Trunk

The trunk reflected the present—the work people do now, how they came into it, and the skills they’ve gathered along the way. Stories of quiet resilience and pride emerged, along with the purpose that work—however difficult—sometimes offered. Strengths often left unspoken were finally named.

The Leaves and Branches

The leaves and branches looked to the future—where dignity, aspiration, and possibility could take shape. It became a space to name what could be—and what support might make it so.

The approach invited storytelling over structured data. And along the way, we learned as much as we gathered.

Creating a safe, Relational Space

How do we create a space that feels safe, not extractive?

One key lesson was the importance of involving people who are not just fluent in the local language, but also attuned to cultural and social nuances of the community. Having a bridge- person participants could relate to- eased the room and softened the power dynamics. 

In fact, a day before the session, we walked through the mapping in detail with our facilitators- who had been part of the process from the start. Their feedback was invaluable. They pointed out phrases that might feel too formal, exercises that needed clearer framing, and moments where we could pause longer to let people reflect. We adapted the structure accordingly. 

The following day, the conversation moved at the community’s pace, not ours. The shift made the process feel less like an outsider’s exercise, and more like a shared exploration. 

Listening Beyond Words

How do we value what people already know—even if they don’t say it in formal words?

We found ourselves tuning in more closely to body language, pauses, and non-verbal cues- especially when words are limited. Silence wasn’t always hesitation. Sometimes, it was pain. Other times, it was trust, slowly unfolding. It was also in gestures- a glance exchanged between women, a hand placed on someone’s shoulder, a shift in posture when certain topics surfaced. In one instance, during a financial planning activity, the conversation shifted to how costly DJs and dance floors have become wedding “essentials.” One participant pointed to another who had recently hired one for his son’s wedding. He smiled, but said little.The silence spoke volumes: the weight of expectations, social pressure, and unspoken trade-offs. 

It also took a conscious effort from our end to resist the urge to guide or interpret too quickly. 

Letting Go, Trusting the Process

How do we design with others in mind-and trust them to carry it forward? 

No matter how much preparation and effort goes into designing a tool, there is always a moment of vulnerability when it is time to release it to the group. Within the context of the Bihar workshops, this was especially true. The JoyCorps Studio team had to take a step back during this exercise, our role was to equip the local group facilitators to lead the process. We kept time, curated the room layout, and intentionally embraced the role of observer during the 40 minute session. This allowed for the local language to be the primary language spoken in the room, and for the participants to feel comfortable surrounded by people they already had a connection with. 

As researchers and design thinkers, the curious nature of our personalities - made this stepping back a personal challenge - the desire to learn of the stories being shared and to build relationships with the participants was one thing, but then also wanting to ensure that the exercise was being conducted in the way in which it was designed and that key factors had not been lost in translation. 

This experience was a positive one for us, the local facilitators and participants engaged deeply with the exercise. And we were able to hand out extra copies of the exercise to the social workers in attendance who asked for the opportunity to trial the tool with the families that they work with. It’s certainly built our confidence in the importance of releasing ideas, tools and processes so that they can be put to use in the most effective and impactful way possible.