Lydia Gitau

Deep, potent silences sometimes underlie thoughts of suicide. This paper presents a personal reflection of silence as a form of expression, and examines how engaging in expressive arts activities may reveal and help in processing feelings of distress and thoughts of suicide. There is an additional layer of hegemony that the use of words adds to discussions of suicidality, which makes these discussions inaccessible to many of the disenfranchised, including people from a refugee background for whom English is not a first language. But, for those struggling with speaking the (English) language in the first place, at what level of language acquisition can they be deemed fit to express and accurately represent their thoughts and ideas about suicide? Does their silence count? And so, by tackling this dilemma, this paper seeks to examine alternative ways of expression that do not heavily rely on words. It explores how, in our undertaking of suicidality studies creatively, we may embody and dignify the ways of the marginalised that have been devalued by a colonialist or interventionist agenda. The paper is an exercise in re-writing their experiences from the critical consciousness of coloniality. It is a disassembling of the control, domination, and exploitation that words can have. It is an attempt to shift the source and profile of knowledge about suicide from those who wield the power and privilege of words to those who live in the margins, shielded by silence.

This article examines the experience and effects of a trauma-responsive program that uses creative methods to address the ongoing psychosocial impacts of transgenerational trauma and youth suicide, which disproportionately affect First Nations people in Australia. Our aim is to understand how the aesthetic (sensory-affective) dimensions of such a program serve to promote experiences of growth after trauma, manifesting in a sense of connection to both self and community. The paper focuses on the second of two immersive, experiential workshops delivered seven months apart in the regional town of Warwick in Queensland, Australia. In the light of self-reports of growth and personal transformation following the initial workshop, the paper examines the key drivers of such growth, focusing in particular on how trauma-related experience is metabolised through cultural containment. It builds on Bion’s concept of container/contained, combining analysis of the affordances of immersion. Framed in cultural rather than medical terms, the larger goal of the paper is to establish how cultural programs fill a gap in trauma informed support, facilitating the processing of trauma.

The topics of intergenerational trauma, resilience, and wellbeing as they relate to forced migration are receiving more attention in the arts and health literature. Yet, we know very little about how refugee-background young adults manage their psychosocial wellbeing when they grow up surrounded by stories of conflict, loss, and trauma. Achol has been writing poetry to represent and amplify the narratives of those around her (parents, family, and the South Sudanese community in Sydney, Australia). These stories are central elements of her lived experience and the diverse experiences of her community. Using collaborative poetic inquiry, this paper identifies key themes in one of her poems, My dad was, is a soldier, to illustrate how poetry is an important artistic mode of expression that can improve our understanding of intergenerational trauma, resilience, and wellbeing. Rather than conveying interview data through research poems, we place Achol’s poem at the centre of our collaborative poetic inquiry to gain new insights into refugee lived experiences. This paper contributes to contemporary debates on how artistic means enrich our knowledge of psychosocial wellbeing through trauma-informed, culturally safe, and decolonial research methods.

Through a psychosocial lens, informed by relational psychoanalysis, this article discusses the design, delivery, and impact of The Big Anxiety’s 2022 festival in Warwick, Queensland—an arts-based program that engages with lived experiences of trauma, distress, and suicide, and in this case with the devastating impact of youth suicide, disproportionately affecting First Nations communities. It describes the festival’s methods of creative engagement, examining how these create conditions for the transformation of trauma and for experiences of growth.

This paper discusses the use of pre-engagement as a method to introduce EmbodiMap, a Virtual Reality (VR) tool to a group of South Sudanese refugees in Sydney, Australia. The aim of the pre-engagment is to understand how currently available support for the mental and emotional wellbeing of the refugee population can be further supported through psychosocial engagements using purposefully developed tools. The EmbodiMap tool and experience, developed by the felt Experience and Empathy Lab (fEEL) at UNSW Sydney, is a creative approach that potentially offers a transformative experience as participants virtually reach into their bodies and draw or register their immediate or persisting feelings, sensations and emotions. As an arts-based approach, EmbodiMap provides an innovative alternative to approaches that rely heavily on words, thus helping amplify the participants’ self-expression. Pre-engagement is used as a psychosocial engagement method, allowing for a small group of participants to experience EmbodiMap first-hand and engage ‘hands on’ with the technology before providing insights into how the tool may be adapted, developed, or codesigned further to facilitate a meaningful experience for use with the broader community. The pre-engagement with a small group of South Sudanese community members revealed scope for further engagement with the broader community, while adapting to the needs and issues identified.

ExtractTrauma survival and refugee experience Lydia Gitau In 2011, I was part of a team of Kenyan volunteers conducting ‘trauma awareness’ workshops at Dadaab Refugee Camp in Northeastern Kenya. Dadaab is now the third-largest ‘Refugee Complex’ in the world, established in 1991 to host refugees fleeing civil war in Somalia. A second influx of 130,000 refugees arrived in 2011, fleeing drought and famine in Southern Somalia (UNHCR 2020) . The workshops we ran focused on helping the refugees to acknowledge and name their feelings and emotions. Using a ‘manual’ prepared by an absent expert from the United States, we invited them into large groups to discuss and give words to ‘their trauma’. Not wanting to disappoint, they endeavoured to find words that fitted our descriptions of trauma, though I myself could not find a word to translate ‘trauma’ in my mother tongue. One of the 130,000 arrivals was Halima (name...