Dear SJ & the Queer Musical Storytelling facilitators/researchers,
When I first started working alongside community researchers a few years ago it came from a deep motivation to challenge the often extractive and harmful nature of more traditional research. Mutuality is a practice and belief that has been core to my work for as long as I can remember - from running youth programmes that were as much about established businesses learning as it was about young people learning, to facilitating organisational change processes that are collectivised and fluid and meet people where they are at, to setting up easy ways to compensate contributors to research and co-design processes, to supporting other facilitators to enter into spaces with a humbleness that centres the needs and flow of the group. But your Queer musical story-telling workshop was my first real experience as a participant and contributor where someone else facilitated such mutuality and it was deeply profound for me both on a personal and professional level.
From the very start it was clear that we weren’t there to just divulge our complex lived experience for you to analyse and collate. You supported us through a process where we could learn skills and exercises that would help us to process our own experiences, for ourselves, for many years to come. Getting to experience the process of songwriting, and being held through that by such a range of talented people, has given me the confidence and knowledge to repeat this for myself whenever I feel called to. And in terms of what I actually ended up writing about during the weekend you helped me to transform a decade worth of confusion and spirals into something beautiful and succinct. I’ve been through many years of therapy, but it doesn’t compare to the relief I felt at finally being able to articulate both my struggles and my joys into a simple 3 minute song.
Not only did every single one of the facilitators demonstrate that this was an experience premised on mutuality, they also demonstrated what collective care and valuing the richness of our diversity as human beings really looks like too. Every time someone had a dietary need the organisers would silently go and see to it - Seni asked if there was decaf coffee and Surabhi returned 5 minutes later with a fresh coffee from the cafe next door, Stella was struggling with eating spicy food and SJ raced down the road to get something different. It seems small but as someone that has experienced or witnessed dietary requirements being belittled and ignored I know just how transformative this type of consideration can be. Even though SJ was a central figure in the day, it was also clear the rest of the team was supporting them and providing the scaffolding for SJ to facilitate freely. And each facilitator repeatedly invited us as participants to lean in as far as we could, but not in a way that would harm us mentally or physically. There was a constant reiteration of people’s own boundaries - and as an autistic person that often gets overwhelmed and forgets my own needs it was so helpful to be reminded to just take a minute to regulate. But there was also a constant reiteration of people’s power and capacity too - and the group gently pushed me beyond my own limitations.
When it comes to how this experience will shape me professionally it is a reminder of all the small things we can do as a facilitator to challenge the status quo and to provide people with healing experiences. It has continued to build my confidence in the power and legitimacy of creative practices even when, or especially when, exploring expansive and complex topics. And it is also a reminder of why facilitators need to seek out opportunities to be facilitated, and why researchers need to seek out opportunities to be participants/contributors. Being a participant rather than a facilitator gives me an opportunity to connect with the art of facilitation more viscerally, to experience the power of good facilitation, and understand more deeply the responsibility of the role we are playing for others when someone plays that role for us. When I experience myself as a participant, I am reminded of all the messy nuance people bring to the space and what it feels like to have to bring that with vulnerability and uncertainty around how the day will unfold.
Lastly, aside from the way you facilitated and held space, I am also just deeply grateful that you are creating spaces where these conversations can be had and that queer experiences and stories can influence and shape systems and legislation. The weekend produced so many layers of value and I hope that this letter goes a small way to letting you know what powerful and important work you are all doing.
Ray
You can keep in the loop about the Queer love, life and the law project here.
This is part of a series of letters in response to questions, prompts or conversations with the Holding Space community. If you want to take part in the Holding Space programme you can sign up here.