The storyteller's contribution

It is hard to not be frustrated, anxious, angry or perhaps depressed at the state of the world. A world where injustice seems to be celebrated as bravery, hatred as manliness. At times like these, many, including myself, try to find individuals – both in the present and the past – who lived in similar times, or worse, and found meaning and purpose. But I know that true stories of kindness, decency and quest for a different world would not reach us if they were not told, or told well. I am in awe of those who choose to walk on a different path than what is the norm at the time, but I am also indebted to those who tell the stories of those travelers.

Tracy Kidder – an American non-fiction writer and narrative journalist, who focused on the lives of individuals making a change, in struggling schools, in TB wards of Haiti, and among the homeless in the streets of Boston – was one of these extraordinary storytellers. Despite the staggering amount of research that went into his books, his prose was both light and poetic. He immersed himself into the lives of those who he followed, and those whose lives were touched on that journey. At a time when people consume instant stories and push deliberately provocative takes, Kidder represented something else, a deeper engagement with the world, and what it may take to change it.

I first came across his work when someone recommended to me his book, Mountains Beyond Mountains – a profile of the life and work of Dr Paul Farmer, who played a remarkable role in shaping our understanding of disease among the world's poorest. Tracy went to Russia, Cuba, Haiti, Peru and Rwanda with Paul and wrote a book that I still give as a gift to anyone in my circle who wants to be a physician. I have to admit that I knew little about Paul's work before Tracy's book. And it was Tracy's book that allowed me a deeper insight into not just Paul's work, vision and mission but also the ills of the system that harms, rather than heals, the poor despite its stated promise.

Tracy's most recent book, Rough Sleepers, took a similar approach – this time following the work of Dr Jim O'Connell and his quest to heal the homeless in Boston. The book focused on the city where I work, and whose suburbs have been my home for nearly two decades. As I walk to my office from the train station, I see people who are homeless – the 'rough sleepers' as Dr O'Connell would refer to them. The book does not shy away from some of the most fundamental questions – including why we have people who have no shelter in one of the richer cities in the richest country in the world – but also talks about the role of the individual, even in a system when the change is sometimes barely noticeable.

Many of the topics Tracy covered are deeply uncomfortable. They are places we have given up on and about people we think are beyond help. In a 2003 review of Mountains Beyond Mountains, Abraham Verghese said the book talks about relieving suffering "in just the kind of places we do not like to think about", and that the book "will rattle our complacency; it will prick our conscience". Yet, in a remarkable way, these books are incredibly inspiring – in part because they are rigorously researched and beautifully written, and in part because of the reminder that despite the odds, many still choose love over hatred, kindness over cruelty and humanity over enmity. The painful subjects and the deep injustice have motivated, and not discouraged, other people to bring change.

Tracy Kidder died last week, but I believe that the power of his words will live on and continue to offer an alternative in a world that seems beyond repair.