Cissy's note: I was Twitter complaining a bit yesterday about how often people talk about the importance of social connections, and yet, how rare it is for organizations and initiatives, to connect socially, with the very parents, families, residents, survivors, and communities. The people, discussed around tables, often are not even present at the table, or pretending it's conversation relevant for others rather than all of us in one way or another. It baffles and surrpises me still. Anyhow, someone sent me this blog post I'd not seen before.
Here are a few excerpts and a link to this essay which I'd not seen before. The author isn't named, except as, Reflections from a Consultant Clinical Psychologist. I appreciate how the work of survivors is demonstrated as helpful for this professional as it's a perspective I've not read a lot before now. Plus, the show, Hold Mommy's Cigarette looks really interesting!
Shelley captures this complexity with extraordinary sophistication. Of course she does. She lived through it. She, quite literally, survived it. She told me she wrote the play in just a couple of hours. She effectively vomited it out.
It is this complexity that has to be brought to the foreground in children’s services if we are to develop truly child centred approaches. Children’s rights, child centred practice, young people’s advocacy and parliaments that give children a voice go a long way, but they will only go so far. Especially for the most traumatised children in our society. How can a child advocate on their own behalf when their biggest priority is getting a smile out of their father; or at least not risking getting a slap from him?
Shelley, and other survivors of trauma, are best placed to help us work out what would have helped most, and what we should be doing more of now. In her play she talks about a teacher’s kind words and a doctor who spotted something unique in her ability to make observations. “Have you ever thought of performing?” was a question that led to a small ad in the newspaper for an improvisation class, that led to – well so much. But most of all these small acts of kindness, and acts of noticing, led to hope for a different life.
Link to full blog post.
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