In this blog, I want to explain why I believe bearing witness is a crucial practice for everyone to learn, especially for changemakers and social entrepreneurs. These reflections come from my own lived experience as a social entrepreneur, a manager, and a coach for changemakers.
In my twenties, I worked on the frontline, supporting individuals seeking the legal right to live in the UK free from persecution. These were often life-or-death situations. The stakes were high, and there were moments when I simply couldn’t help anyone. I would be speaking to a young gay man from Nigeria who feared being beaten, forced into marriage, imprisoned, or even killed if he were sent back home, and I had no solution to offer.
In those moments, I felt helplessness, sadness, anger, and a sense that I had failed or done something wrong. As my career progressed, I began managing people who faced the same challenges and felt similar emotions. Now, as a coach in my late forties which I practice as part of my CEO role, I see changemakers bringing these feelings into the coaching room time and again.
Many social entrepreneurs and changemakers provide services to people in vulnerable situations: those that nobody wants to employ, those who are beaten by their partners, children who don’t have enough food or clothing, teenagers who are rejected by their families because of their sexuality—the list goes on. Often, we run out of options and we cannot offer any help. In that situation, we are often left with an emotional rock that weighs on our heart, stomach and minds. It does not need to be like that. I believe bearing witness can be both a crucial skill for impact work and a valuable resource for changemakers.
Below, I share what I have learned about bearing witness: what it means, why it matters, and how it has shaped my work and the work of those I support.
What Does Bearing Witness Mean?
According to the Cambridge dictionary the definition of “bearing witness” is: “If something bears witness to a fact, it proves that it is true”.
There are many ways we can bear witness: verbally by sharing with others, through our writing, through art, or even through silence.
My Lived Experience With Bearing Witness
I’ve been practicing bearing witness for the past twenty years, but only recently have I brought real intentionality to it. This shift happened as Micro Rainbow underwent a major transformation over the last year, becoming a fully trauma-informed social enterprise. Our safeguarding and practices were always of the highest standard, but we wanted to do even better. This transformation was led by my friend and colleague Jill Power, whose vision has helped us become an even safer, more human, and more grounded organisation.
Frontline Work and Helplessness: Mary’s Story
I remember a time, in 2006, when I was supporting a lesbian from Pakistan1, let’s call her Mary. Mary was applying for asylum in the UK, seeking the right to live in safety. Back home she experienced persecution because of her sexual orientation and gender-based violence. I was 28 years old and Mary was just a few years younger than me. For various reasons, her asylum application was rejected, and she eventually exhausted all appeal rights. This meant that she had no right to be in the UK anymore and that the UK Government could send her back to Pakistan anytime.
I got to know Mary deeply over the nine months we worked together. Yet we never once sat across from each other for a simple cup of coffee. She was locked inside an immigration reception centre, and our entire relationship unfolded over the phone. An immigration reception centre is, in truth, a prison: wrapped in barbed wire, with people living in cells and stripped of their freedom of movement. Visitors are fingerprinted and searched as if boarding a flight.
So Mary and I spoke by phone most days—sometimes several times a day. We talked about her case, how it was progressing, what tiny steps we could take. But between legal updates, she shared her fears about her girlfriend’s safety back home. Mary’s desperation to secure legal status in the UK was not only about saving herself but also about rescuing the woman she loved.
Then came the day the Home Office issued her a letter with the date and time of her flight back to Islamabad. On that day, security would take her from immigration detention cell directly to her seat on the plane. They would do that with handcuffs sometimes. It was devastating news. Mary knew that as soon as she landed in Pakistan, she would be forced to marry a man chosen by her family. She would likely face further gender-based violence and house arrest too. Her family found out that she tried to claim asylum as a lesbian and was furious. Mary feared for her life.
On the day she was due to leave the UK, I spent most of the day speaking with her on the phone, including as she boarded the plane to Islamabad. At the time I did not know that I would have remembered that moment for the rest of my life with so much clarity and intensity of emotions. It was the culmination of months of hard work, of fighting a system designed to fail vulnerable people, and of experiencing a rollercoaster of emotions.
I still remember our conversations that day. There was no anger or bitterness in her voice. There was humanity, sadness, and still a glimpse of hope. I said very little. At times, we stayed silent. But I was there, on the other side of the phone. When we said goodbye as she buckled up, we both knew we wouldn’t speak again. There was nothing I could do and Mary knew she had no choice anymore but to go.
Our last call was around 7 p.m. on a winter evening. By then, the office was empty except for the charming cleaner from Colombia, whose name escapes me now.
After saying, “Bye — I wish you good luck,” I set the portable telephone back in its charging base, which gave its usual, annoying double beep and flashing red lights. I left my corner desk — the best spot on that open-plan floor — and walked the 15 metres to the toilet at the far end. I was barely holding back my emotions and needed somewhere private to let them loose. Even though that toilet was the furthest point from our workspace, I decided it was still too close; I didn’t want to risk anyone hearing me.
I climbed the stairs to the toilet two floors above, passing the kitchen that still smelled of coffee but was spotless. That floor was empty too. I closed the door and cried. As I gripped the sink, I was grateful to the Columbian cleaner who had already made the room smell like a pine forest. Apparently tears are good, they hydrate us and help us self-regulate. I can still feel the relief of their freshness on my cheeks. In that moment, all I felt was helplessness and deep sadness.
As I sat on the toilet exhausted and blowing my nose, I was conscious that Mary’s flight back to persecution was probably taking off at the same time. I could not even begin to imagine what she must have been feeling. I had many thoughts crowding my brain. Had I done enough to help Mary before that day? Did I do anything at all for Mary on the day she left?
This experience is from a time when I was less intentional about my practice to bear witness. As I outline below the six reasons why bearing witness is essential in the impact world, I will also share what went well, what I wish I had done better for Mary and the difference that intentionality brings to my practice now.
Six Reasons Bearing Witness Matters for Social Entrepreneurs
1. Connection: Sharing Humanity Without Judgment
Human beings are wired for connection, yet in our hyper-technological society, many of us struggle to achieve it. When we bear witness, we share a piece of our heart. We show compassion, empathy, and truly see the other person. No matter how hard the situation, bearing witness allows us to connect at a deep level, without judgment, agenda, or rush. Nearly 20 years later, the experience I shared with Mary is still alive in my heart. I’m proud of how much we allowed ourselves to connect, to hold space, to feel pain, sadness, and helplessness together. We were not alone.
2. Grounding: Offering Stability in Times of Chaos
From connection comes grounding. Sometimes, the most important thing we can offer is our presence. Even when we can’t change the outcome, “being there” can be profoundly meaningful for someone facing trauma or loss. We can be a calm, stable presence for someone in chaos, validating their experience. By grounding ourselves, we create space for others to find grounding too. I felt I was a grounding figure for Mary, especially on her last day in the UK. Yet the tragic end to our relationship left me ungrounded. I’m now more conscious that bearing witness also means planning for self-care.
3. Life Skill: Letting Go of the Rescuer Within
Practicing bearing witness has transformed me, not just as a social entrepreneur, but as a person. Many changemakers are high-achieving helpers, always wanting to rescue anyone in need: at work, with family, friends, even strangers. That’s exhausting! Bearing witness means letting go of the rescuer in us and honouring the fact that people are often resourceful and may have the answers they need. Looking back at my journey with Mary, I wish I’d let go of the rescuer in me more often. Had I done that, I would have allowed for more silence, more space for reality to sink in. The risk of not bearing witness is that we can raise expectations; it’s a difficult balance.
4. Growth: Becoming Better People Through Witnessing
Bearing witness is a privilege. When someone allows us to do so, we receive a gift. It connects us deeply with others, lets us see their resilience, and learn from their experiences and pain. In a time when many of us feel isolated, it reminds us we are all one. Bearing witness brings us close to trauma, injustice, pain, and loss. It inspires us to do better, to be better, to challenge the systems that hurt us. My experience with Mary strengthened my determination to support people fleeing persecution. It gave me some of the inspiration I needed to found my own social enterprise and devote my life to it.
5. Healing: Individual, Collective, and Systemic Impact
Bearing witness is inherently validating; it allows to feel truly seen and heard. It’s something we also receive from our “tribes”, the communities where we find belonging. For me, bearing witness opens up three interconnected levels of healing:
- Individual healing: Each person involved experiences validation and release.
- Collective healing: As people share and witness together, collective trauma can give way to collective restoration.
- Systemic healing: Over time, this process shapes cultures, institutions, and systems, creating space for broader transformation.
6. Beauty: Discovering Light in the Midst of Struggle
In my latest group coaching sessions, something special happened. I realised that bearing witness is also a source of beauty. I didn’t see it in the moment, but during my reflective practice, I understood why I felt so full, so powerful, so joyful: I had witnessed beauty. And beauty is contagious. When we see it and allow ourselves to connect with it, we become better and happier people. In that group session, hope emerged in the midst of loss and grief, empowerment in the midst of institutional stuck-ness, courage and resilience in the face of hate. I felt pride. That coaching session was an act of defiance and resistance at a time when we often don’t know what to do to make the world better. Looking back at Mary’s story, despite the outcome, the connection we shared makes me feel part of something bigger than just me and Mary. That is a beautiful feeling that still gives me strength.
Conclusion: The Transformative Power of Bearing Witness
When faced with situations where we feel hopeless, let’s remember there is something we can do: we can bear witness. Bearing witness is not about doing nothing, as some might think. It is actually about doing a lot. Whether it’s a friend going through bereavement, a family member experiencing tragedy, or a beneficiary of your social enterprise, being intentional in bearing witness can be a huge support. Sometimes it’s all we can do, and if done with intentionality, it can be transformative for everyone involved.
Sebastian’s Coffee Cup Coaching Corner
Grab a coffee. Take 10 minutes. Reflect with these prompts:
- How do you currently create moments of deep connection in your work?
- Where do you notice your “rescuer” instinct showing up?
- What have you learned about yourself through witnessing others’ pain or resilience?
- How can you make space to notice moments of courage, resilience, or hope?
I hope this post offers a moment to pause and reflect. I’d love to hear from you: share in the comments, on LinkedIn, or drop me a message. Let’s stay connected.
With solidarity and hope,
Sebastian
P.S. If you enjoyed this post, check out the Build a Social Enterprise Blog for more practical insights and stories and join my free newsletter on LinkedIn.
@sebastianrocca @buildasocialenterprise
- Details have been changed to ensure anonymity ↩︎
