“And Then COVID Hit”: (Re)flexibility of Digital Storytelling in Qualitative Health Research

Abstract

The purpose of our qualitative health research study was to understand the experiences of Ontarians who accompanied someone throughout their dying process using medical assistance in dying (MAiD). The second phase used digital stories as a method to examine and share these experiences at the end of life. And then the COVID-19 pandemic hit, and we faced a pivot to our original plan. This pivot resulted in reinforcing the myriad benefits of using digital storytelling in qualitative health research. And rather than detracting from the initial study, we also learned that digital storytelling is a flexible method that can be creatively, compassionately, and effectively conducted in virtual spaces. We will employ digital storytelling in future qualitative health research as both a component of studies but also as a conduit for explorations of other tools of data collection and dissemination.

Introduction

A recent in-person healthcare conference meant a return to quasi-normality for researchers and practitioners involved in hospice palliative care. The conference’s official theme surrounded equity and inclusion in healthcare settings; however, presentations also highlighted the phrase, “And then COVID hit,” followed by a description of how academic and professional teams had had to adapt quickly and safely to parameters set by the pandemic. This commonality resonated with us as we, too, had been forced to pivot. As qualitative researchers, it is understood that degrees of flexibility are inherent to the experience. But this shift seemed novel, felt momentous, and we knew we were not alone; publications such as Doing Fieldwork in a Pandemic (Lupton, 2020) emerged, to support participants as well as researchers endeavouring to move forward. In myriad ways, we were to learn that digital storytelling uses computational power to facilitate human contact (Hartley & McWilliam, 2009), including affording a platform to those voices that often go unheard (Burgess, 2006).

Digital storytelling, described as an arts-based research method gaining momentum in qualitative health research (Beltrán & Begun, 2014; Lang et al., 2019; Rieger et al., 2021), played a role in our study from the outset. Lambert and Hessler (2018) shares that when, compared to other service sectors, digital storytelling as a methodology has seen the greatest adoption by qualitative health researchers. Our determination to move forward with this phase in the face of COVID-19 meant that we had to devise a way to implement the digital storytelling workshop online and prioritising COVID safe practices. And while the necessary shifts were numerous and not without challenges, many of the anticipated outcomes of using digital storytelling as a qualitative research method still emerged. However, we were less prepared and subsequently very pleased by the unanticipated outcomes, which suggested that the virtual format could offer an even more value-added experience in certain contexts. This article seeks to explore both anticipated benefits and unconsidered benefits that reinforce how digital storytelling is not only a viable method for qualitative health research, but also be a pandemic-resistant one.

The Research Project

The purpose of this qualitative research was to understand the experiences of Ontarians who accompanied someone throughout their dying process using medical assistance in dying (MAiD). The second phase of our study used digital stories as a method to examine and share these experiences at the end of life.

The right to choose MAiD was introduced in Canada on June 17th, 2016, and affords Canadians who meet the eligibility criteria the option to hasten their death via medical physician assistance. Now that established mechanisms for the provision of MAiD are available, it is important to understand what information and supports people need as they accompany someone requesting MAiD. As the Canadian population ages, more people will have a first-hand experience with someone they love requesting to hasten their death with MAiD; MAID deaths accounted for 2.5% of all deaths in Canada in 2020 (Government of Canada, 2020). To date, a majority of the research conducted on assisted dying both in Canada and internationally has concentrated on physicians (Brooks, 2019) and this research contributes to our understanding of the experience of family members and friends who accompany someone who used MAiD at the end of life.

Our interest in digital storytelling derived from a growing body of literature regarding its use in qualitative research (deJager et al., 2017). Digital stories are understood to be of particular use in areas of difficult and life-altering human experiences (Alexandra, 2008; Gubrium et al., 2014; Jernigan & Roach, 2021; Johnson & Kendrick, 2016; Laing et al, 2017a, 2017b; LaMarre & Rice, 2016; Lenette et al., 2019; Laing et al., 2019) and, because of this and other contributing factors, has the potential to be transformative for both creator and observer (Beltrán & Begun, 2014; Boydell et al., 2012; Juppi, 2017; Lenette et al., 2019). Although relatively nascent in health promotion and education (Gubrium, 2009; Boydell et al., 2012; Lal et al., 2015; Gubrium et al., 2016), digital story creation is gaining momentum as a method in health care research (Beltrán & Begun, 2014; Lang et al., 2019; Rieger et al., 2021) and more specifically in palliative care research (Akard et al., 2016; Williams et al., 2017). For our purposes, we were also interested in the literature that captured the power of storytelling and digital story creation for those grieving a death-related loss (Bosticco & Thompson, 2005; Gilbert, 2002; Rolbiecki et al., 2017, 2021a, 2021b.

Digital Storytelling

Digital storytelling has its roots in the 1990s, its inception widely attributed to Joe Lambert and the late Dana Atchley, at the Center for Digital Storytelling in Berkeley, CA, who sought to democratise experiences of media creation (StoryCenter, 2022). As such, digital storytelling does not require professional equipment and/or technological skills beyond basic competency to use a specific software platform (in our case, WeVideo). Digital stories are usually 2–3 (and commonly 3–5) minutes in length, have a first-person narrative, and may use still and/or moving images, music, or sound effects to tell a story about a person, event, or issue (Lambert, 2009). There is no fixed curriculum involved in the model of digital storytelling at the Story Center; this flexible approach can then contribute to an empowering experience for the creator (Juppi, 2017; Wexler et al., 2013), and often a transformative one for both creator and viewer (Alexandra, 2008). In addition, while our study purchased a software licence to provide the digital storytelling platform to participants, there is also a less-enhanced version available free of charge (WeVideo). Access to this platform ensured participants had equitable access to royalty-free images and sound and was in keeping with setting the process up for success from the outset. Traditionally, DST engages participants in intensive group-based workshops, usually numbering eight to 12, over the course of several days, with facilitators guiding the creative process and troubleshooting the technological aspects (Lal et al., 2015). Some evidence suggests that while the workshop culminates in a product—the digital story itself—it is the process of creating one that is of more value to the participant (Juppi, 2017). However, in terms of research methodologies, it is understandable that the dissemination of the stories could be integral to the study (Lenette et al., 2019), if they are devised with educational purposes in mind.

Digital Storytelling and Grief

Storytelling has long been used in grief and bereavement explorations as it provides opportunities for sensemaking (Gilbert, 2002), catharsis (Bosticco & Thompson, 2005), continuing bonds (Valentine, 2008), and meaning-making when processing a loss (Gillies & Neimeyer, 2006). The concept of meaning-making is relevant in grief explorations as it is the process by which the bereaved come to understand, navigate, and make sense of their loss (Supriano, 2019). Digital storytelling as a multimodal approach enhances these meaning-making processes, potentially realising its expression to a greater degree (Johnson & Kendrick, 2016). In keeping with Bruner (1990) and the idea that narratives are how we bring order to our lives, digital storytelling asks the griever to make creative and multimodal (Yang, 2012) decisions regarding images, sound, and/or music in addition to the narrative, and to keep the story to a fixed time and pace. This provides an order to the storytelling process as individuals navigate the loss and extends beyond the narrative. Digital storytelling as a meaning-making bereavement tool also allows for potential explorations of continuing bonds, addressing unfinished business, benefit finding, and sense making (Rolbiecki et al., 2021). Returning to the notion of catharsis, while digital storytelling itself is not therapy, it is valued as a therapeutic intervention in palliative care (Akard et al., 2016) and grief and bereavement work (deJager et al., 2017).

Methodology and Methods

The purpose of our project was to understand the experiences of someone who accompanies someone throughout their dying process with MAiD. The objectives of the project included acquiring a deeper understanding of the experiences of family members and friends who were a part of the MAiD experience. A small group of participants who were interviewed in phase one of our research were invited to take part in a digital storytelling workshop, phase two, and produce their story of accompanying someone who accessed MAiD at the end of life.

Digital storytelling workshops traditionally occur over the course of several days in interactive group sessions, usually comprising a small number of participants and facilitated by professional digital storytellers (Gladstone & Stasiulis, 2017). Initially, we planned that participants would be invited to join the research team and participate in a digital story creation workshop at a university which regularly offered and supported this work. As part of the in-person workshops, participants would have been encouraged to bring personal artefacts, in the form of music, photographs, narratives) to potentially use in their digital story. Our research team planned that eight digital stories would result, geographically representative of the province (two from North, South, East, and West Ontario). The culminating product—the story itself—would realise an “afterlife” (Gladstone & Stasiulis, 2017, p. 4) in two restricted forms: one, on a USB for the participant to share as they felt appropriate and two, as part of a symposium organised by the research team. The anticipated benefits for participants and community would involve contribution to critical knowledge, enhancement of professional practice and policymaking, and enrichment of public discourse of MAiD through personal and public dissemination of the finished stories. For the research team, there were anticipated scholarly benefits, namely knowledge creation, research collaboration, and skill development for its more inexperienced/junior members.

And then COVID hit. Phase one of the study was not greatly affected by the restrictions introduced because of the pandemic as it comprised province-wide semi-structured interviews over the telephone or via Zoom that were in keeping with the initial format, primarily for geographical and scheduling reasons. However, phase two needed reconfiguring as the ability to gather in person to conduct the digital storytelling was no longer possible. We would hasten to add that alteration of the proposed plan, as opposed to postponement, was the only option as there appeared to be no understanding of the duration of the pandemic. And while digital storytelling was not directly explored in a timely crowd-sourced document entitled Doing Fieldwork in a Pandemic (Lupton, 2020), digital approaches were purported to be the only viable option for moving forward with research studies.

Initially, our research team was not confident how moving the proposed workshop from real to virtual space was going to work and pivoted to reproduce the workshop to suit this new platform. This meant that there were initial delays in moving forward as we ascertained all the factors involved in conducting the study in this new pandemic-restricted format. The timing of the study was expanded, too, to enable the workshop to be conducted over the course of weeks and not the several days recommended for in-person collaboration. This meant that a convenient time for all involved—researchers, facilitators, and participants—needed to be determined. We continued our collaboration with the university digital story lab, but with two facilitators zooming in from their respective spaces. The eight participants from different areas of the province no longer needed to travel and joined from their home or work bases. For some participants, this was met with positivity; but, we understood that it was not reasonable to ask participants and the research team to move into the virtual workshop space for consecutive days while they became acclimated to this new way of living; school-aged children were now learning at home, those employed were, for the most part, now working at home, and there were changes to even the most routine of living habits, such as grocery shopping. In addition to these isolating factors, participants were grieving the loss of the person they had accompanied through MAiD. Another consideration was the issue of support for the bereaved. The workshop in its original format involved explorations of recent (within years/months) deaths of significant people in the lives of the participants. This grief was now being exacerbated by restrictions imposed by the pandemic. The team had to ascertain how it would endeavour to virtually replicate this support from a distance with the technology needed to create the digital stories.

Participants

[NOTE: Pronouns they/their/them are used purposefully to refer to participants].

The aforementioned factors brought about by the collective response to COVID-19 meant that we did not achieve the eight participants from the outset and started the workshop with six participants: one from East Ontario, two from North Ontario, one from West Ontario, and two from South Ontario. The workshop was scheduled to meet once per week on Monday evenings for 90 minutes for a total of 4 weeks.

The digital platform used for digital story creation was WeVideo, an online editor tool. This tool allowed all participants to have access to the provided media (royalty-free images/music, file size, etc.,) as well as give facilitators access to the participants’ dashboards to allow for remote editing. Although an online platform that does have an associated app for Apple and android devices, WeVideo functions at its optimal level on desktops or laptops (more on this later). Each participant was assigned to a research assistant and a digital storytelling facilitator.

Process

Our approach was in keeping with the prescribed format used in workshops facilitated by the Story Center. Participants met as a group for the 4-week workshop but had individual access to their assigned support people as per request via email. The first session was an opportunity to introduce ourselves via an icebreaker, get a feel for the software, understand what is entailed when creating digital stories, and share personal experiences of MAiD-related bereavement. An exemplar digital story made by a member of the research team about her own experience of the death of a family member was shared, to illustrate the digital story product and set a precedent for subsequent feedback format. Participants were offered loose instructions about preparation for the following session regarding the potential components of the digital story (e.g., music, still images, video) and prompts for script ideas. The message that there are no hard and fast rules to digital storytelling (except for royalties on music and images), only infinite possibilities, was clearly implied. The Story Center suggests workshops should be committed to freedom of expression so that the work is participant-centred, and people are encouraged to find their own path to their own story (Lambert, 2009).

Discussion

What We Anticipated and What Surprised Us

Digital Storytelling and Autonomy

Many researchers (Beltrán & Begun, 2014; de Jager et al., 2017; Gladstone & Stasiulis, 2017; Hull & Katz, 2006; Juppi, 2017) describe digital storytelling as a tool of empowerment and autonomy and this was observable in our experiences. It was apparent that our explorations of both the digital storytelling process and becoming familiar with the WeVideo platform offered opportunities for the participants to be autonomous in their directorial choices regarding their respective stories. The research team demonstrated how stories could be developed and the types of materials that might be chosen and the options of how to present said materials, but the decision-making from therein was entirely up to the individuals.

In our first session a digital story created by a member of our research team was shared. While the feedback about the content was very positive, there was a sense of collective angst among the participants about the inferred technological skill set needed to create a story of their own. The use of the exemplar follows the suggested workshop protocols from the Story Center and is as integral to the process as the sharing of self in a circle at the beginning (Lambert, 2006). One participant elected to withdraw from the study after the initial session, sharing that navigating the new software was part of the decision to do so. However, the other participants remained in the workshop and began to compile their personal artefacts and script ideas as suggested. One returning participant shared that they found the use of the exemplar somewhat daunting but had also spent the week between sessions becoming more familiar with WeVideo. We reminded participants that anyone could make a digital story, because everyone has a story to tell (Meadows, 2003), and that we would be there to guide the process and help troubleshoot with the technology. The research team reinforced with participants that only they knew their experience, so only they knew what needed to be done (Gilbert, 2002). This thinking positions the participant as ‘co-constructor’ of knowledge and not only contributes to a greater sense of agency (Alexandra, 2008), it also meant that stories did not represent just the voices of participants but also contained co-created new voices (Gubrium et al., 2014) as researchers and facilitator worked alongside the participant. This reinforced the need for self-awareness in the role of co-creator of data, with the expectation that reflexivity played a key role in the co-construction relationship (Worcester, 2012).

Often in qualitative research, the researcher seeks to meet the participant, in a metaphorical and literal sense, where they are. The traditional format of the digital storytelling workshop outlines explorations in a single location, over the course of several consecutive days. Our pandemic-instigated pivot to a virtual platform meant that participants would remain in their geographical locations, and thus in their physical grieving spaces. These were locations in which many of the participants spent most of their time, surrounded by their personal belongings and, again, their artefacts from their lives with, or near, the deceased. This was, of course, exacerbated by the pandemic restrictions. Death and bereavement produce spaces in our lives in which artefacts, places, and communities can take on new and/or heightened significance (Maddrell, 2016). This is in keeping with the notion that emotions are connected to specific spaces and contexts (Bondi et al., 2005), and that grief, bereavement, and mourning are all experienced within these spaces and contexts, subject to both triggering and amelioration (Maddrell, 2016). Our team had to be cognisant of these phenomena alongside the virtual co-presence, participant and member of the research team, experienced while in the workshop. While remaining in their personal spaces afforded participants established spaces to visit and revisit their grief, it also appeared that some autonomy was felt regarding the material shared with the group, and within the digital story.

It also meant that the workshop was held one evening a week over the course of 4 weeks, potentially allowing for an entire week away from the project instead of the intensive experience offered in the in-person version. The research team agreed that the continuity of the originally planned workshop needed to be upheld and decided that their respective teams could arrange to meet during the days in-between the group sessions, and in any pairing necessary (researcher-participant, facilitator-participant, researcher-facilitator). This access varied widely from participant to participant. For example, two participants chose to create one story about the same person, and worked together without creative input or technical guidance, save email ‘check-ins’ from the researcher, for the project’s entirety. Another participant, who had less access to technology but was keen to remain in the study as they felt that their story needed to be shared, engaged much more closely with the research team to create their story. In this case, the researcher and facilitator used FaceTime and emails to ascertain from the participant what materials were to be used and how they needed to be presented: then, together, and separately, worked to create a digital story inclusive of the participant’s explicit instructions. As the participant was the director of the creation of the story, the researcher and facilitator member-checked with the participant on several occasions to ensure this was indeed the case. The other teams determined optimal times to work both independently and collaboratively and returned to the group sessions to share ideas and solicit feedback.

Digital Storytelling and the Effects on the Observer/Viewer

While the literature suggests that the majority of digital storytelling workshops do not culminate in the dissemination of the products to public audiences (deJager et al., 2017), evidence suggests that digital stories are an optimal vehicle for sharing difficult and challenging topics in healthcare (Rose et al., 2016; Yuskel et al., 2011) and that at no other point in history have stories had the potential as they do today to quickly and substantially influence the world (Lang et al., 2019).

In our study, participants had the option to give permission for their story to be shared in research-related contexts, such as the aforementioned conference and a purposefully engineered online symposium that was held at the conclusion of the research project. Some participants were consciously, and all were arguably unconsciously, co-creating their stories with presupposed audiences that extended beyond themselves. It is here that we begin to understand the purported markers of a successful story that extend beyond the empowerment of the participant (Story Center website). While it is entirely reasonable to accept that aesthetically pleasing stories are considered more likely to maximise a story’s relevance, thus having a greater impact on audiences (Gladstone & Stasiulis, 2017), Poletti (2011) suggests that the seven elements of storytelling promote a coaxed or coerced version of the story, which would appear to contradict our understanding of the process as potentially empowering. The seven elements of digital storytelling are:

1. Point of view—What do you want to say?

2. Dramatic question—How can you say it best?

3. Emotional content—Helping your audience care

4. Voice—Only you can tell your story

5. Soundtrack—Add music and other auditory elements for impact

6. Economy—Keep it simple when it comes to words & images

7. Pacing—Give viewers time to take in the story (Gladstone & Stasiulis, 2017, p. 13).

However, in our situation, those participants who voiced from the outset that their intention was agreement with dissemination suggested that empowerment was experienced in what they understood as the “digital afterlife” of their story (Gladstone & Stasiulis, 2017, p. 12). As such, knowing that their culminating product would be purposefully shared beyond the workshop setting became somewhat of a beacon of hope amid their emotional processes of co-creation of story and navigation of grief. In one instance, the participant was emphatic that their story needed to be told to ensure health care professionals bore witness and thereby be enthralled to promote greater quality of care (Lal et al., 2015). Amid multiple losses that the pandemic brought layered atop a death-related loss, this participant remained with the study beyond the original parameters to ensure the project was completed. The suggestion that some digital stories feel akin to public service announcements, so that no one should have to endure what they had endured (Laing et al., 2019), rang very true for us all.

Due to the virtual space that our study occupied, we noted an interesting phenomenon that might not otherwise occur in the traditional workshop format. Because participants and their respective teams had a week between each group session, opportunities arose that were both scheduled (with researchers and facilitators) and organic (with family and/or friends) to situate the participant as an observer of their own story. This metacognition of both the digital story techniques as well as the grieving process involved suggests that participants had the time and space to become more objective viewers of their own experiences. One participant shared that they almost felt disassociated from the version of themselves that they viewed in the story, and that they viewed this as a positive aspect of the whole journey. In most cases, creative discussion with what the Story Center calls ‘non-participants’ (Lambert, 2009) was evident, something that would not necessarily be possible during an in-person workshop environment.

Digital Storytelling as Tool of Knowledge Transfer

Digital stories are uniquely suited to knowledge transfer (deJager et al., 2017), and stories are highly effective for sharing study findings with patients, carers, health care professionals, policy makers, and academics (Lal et al., 2015; Rieger et al., 2021). For our study, dissemination was a component, and we were given permission to disseminate all of the stories produced. To date, we have shared them, inclusive of a first-person introduction from each participant, during a virtual research symposium our team hosted, at the hospice and palliative care conferences, and in university courses. All but one introduction situated the participant speaking directly to the camera, providing background and the impetus to want their story shared. One participant was candid about not wanting to provide an on-camera introduction but had maintained throughout the study that dissemination was their motivating factor. Their facilitator and researcher team asked if it were possible for a scripted version of the introduction to be produced, which was then turned into opening credits to their story. The participant voiced that they felt the impact possible from the written word would reinforce the negative experience in a way they could not if using a verbal narrative. When the stories were shared at the conference, the collective silence of the large audience as they read the participant’s words created a concentrated, collective engagement that differed from the others, perhaps achieving the participant’s wish.

Storytelling as a narrative-based research method in health promotion has long been seen as an effective tool for affecting positive change in outlooks and beliefs in health care (Hinyard & Kreuter, 2007); however, what our team also valued were opportunities to be involved in delivering messages about experiences of MAiD as it is in its nascence (June 2016). This offered timely opportunities for everyone involved—research team and participants as well as professional and personal audiences—to be reflective of how these stories ‘spoke’ about this emerging new legislation in practice. The efficacy of our efforts to afford knowledge transfer opportunities follows what Laing et al. (2019) suggested as ideal elements: use of a trained facilitator to guide participants through the process; an online repository where digital stories may be viewed (research symposium, 2021); and training in-and outpatient staff how to facilitate the digital storytelling process.

Another aspect of knowledge transfer occurred as participants, with their newly acquired skills to create digital stories, shared that they were embarking on more stories about aspects of their lives. It is reasonable to assume that attendees at both the symposium and conference presentations might consider the use of digital storytelling in their own practices, or in their personal lives. One participant has included their digital story on a personal website and others have held their own viewings with family and friends.

Digital Storytelling and Grief Explorations

Because of the established overarching theme, each digital story created and shared explored the grief experiences, more specifically grief experiences related to a medically assisted death. In this sense, coming together for the group sessions meant participants shared common ground, describing being among other people who understood what they were feeling (Beltrán & Begun, 2014). But as grief is unique to the individual in terms of its experience as well as expression, it also meant that participants had the space and time between sessions to navigate the meaning-making of the loss (Gilbert, 2002; Gillies & Neimeyer, 2006; Rolbiecki et al., 2021). A natural outcome of processing grief, then, is an enhancement of one’s grief literacy (Clark et al., 2003; Breen et al., 2022). Clark et al. (2003) is purported to have first used the term grief literacy to suggest that equipping the general public and professionals with knowledge about grief would give them the tools and skills to more readily identify, seek out information and appropriate supports, “and thereby be proactive about avoiding complications from the grieving process” (p. 307). While grief is understood to be unique to the individual, how grief is expressed does share cultural and contextual commonalities; in this sense, conducting a study with participants grieving a medically assisted death has the potential to not only afford a more tailored approach to processing grief, but opportunities to raise literacy and challenge stigma (Gray et al., 2015; Gubrium et al., 2014; Williams et al., 2017).

But grief is not only experienced after a death-related loss; grief is the experience after any loss, be it the death of a significant person or pet, the loss of a job, a relationship, an identity, and so forth. The COVID-19 pandemic, then, meant that people globally were grieving multiple losses in their lives—loss of routine, loss of employment, loss of rituals, loss of certainty, etc.—and these losses were made more complex by a death-related loss. Our study situated grievers in their own environments, navigating the initial loss which was then compounded by pandemic-related losses. Thus, the transfer of knowledge had a wider scope, and arguably more time in which to be processed as our study parameters were much broader in terms of time and space than prescribed workshop format.

Limitations

Like Rieger et al. (2021), it is important to note that the research team did not solicit direct feedback about the workshop from participants, so this article is based on the research team’s collective reflections of the process.

From this perspective, there were clear disadvantages to the revamped version of the digital storytelling workshop. Because workshops traditionally occur in purpose-oriented spaces, there is the issue that participants left each session and were immersed back into real life as they were situated in their home environments. This, of course, was exacerbated because pandemic-restricted real life meant that demands on time were new and/or heightened, perhaps creating stress for the participant. Another factor to consider here is that participants met as a group on a weekly basis, so the momentum expected from consecutive attendance over the course of several days was not realised. This meant that the research team faced the unique difficulty of holding space for the bereaved in cyberspace and not within the arguably safer confines the in-person workshop would have afforded. Taking this into account, the research team identified the need to ‘check in’ with participants in a purposeful way; however, it is felt that the inability to see participants physically, read body language, etc., in real time was a concern.

One of the original six participants left the study after the first session, citing that the technology was difficult to navigate alone at home and that it felt overwhelming without support. However, these issues were aligned with the participant themselves and not due to region-specific (rural and/or remote) technological challenges. As Hartley and McWilliam (2009) remind us, everyone loves a story, but not everyone loves a computer. This participant also commented that they felt their journey with MAiD had reached a level of closure they felt did not need further exploration, and that their contribution in phase one stood alone in its ability to disseminate knowledge about their experience. Another of the original six did not complete a digital story due to health issues.

Finally, while the time difference of an hour was surmountable, the workshop was subject to technical difficulties above and beyond our control. However, because of the scheduling across several weeks, this might have been overcome more easily than if an in-person workshop had experienced glitches.

Conclusion

Digital storytelling as a method conducted in its original workshop format is a valuable tool for qualitative researchers. Our experience shows that it is particularly well-suited for exploration of healthcare-related issues as it affords voice to the otherwise voiceless and has the potential to affect procedural and policy change. But this we sensed from the beginning; what our study has also led us to understand is that digital storytelling as a method can be ethically, compassionately, and effectively conducted in virtual spaces and that there is much to be gained in its reformatting. This flexibility has meant that the possibilities of using both process and product in a research capacity are more far-reaching than initially anticipated. Going forward, we will employ digital storytelling in future qualitative health research as both a component of studies but also as a conduit for explorations of other tools of data collection and dissemination, for example podcasting through a storytelling lens. It is our estimation that other qualitative researchers would benefit from consideration of digital storytelling in their qualitative health research studies. Because participants live in stories and not statistics (Gilbert, 2002), digital storytelling is a powerful tool in exploring those stories, one that potentially empowers, educates, and enthrals everyone involved.