Encouraging Individual Expression
Last week I left the workshop feeling slightly despondent.
I spend a lot of time planning the sessions for the two men who attend — both non-verbal autistic adults — I wondered whether my efforts were really making any difference. I try to think very carefully about how the sessions are structured, because the two men work in such different ways.
One arrives with an immediate burst of energy. He moves quickly into activity with real enthusiasm, but that energy can fade quite suddenly and he tires. The other works much more quietly. His movements are restrained and deliberate, and he seems to approach each task with a slower, more contained focus.
Holding space for both of these rhythms requires a kind of attentiveness that is sometimes difficult to measure. My intention is simply to create an environment where they might feel comfortable enough to begin expressing themselves.
This week I prepared the room as usual. I hung some of the work they had made the previous week on the wall. It feels important that the room holds some trace of what has happened before.
When the men arrived something felt different. The atmosphere was calmer. They seemed more at ease moving through the space and began their tasks with a quiet confidence.
For about half an hour there was a deep, concentrated silence in the room. The kind of silence that feels full rather than empty. Each of them engaged with the materials I had set out — tracing, collage, drawing — moving between the tasks in their own way.
There was a quiet sense of purpose to the work.
By the end of the session both participants seemed genuinely pleased with what they had achieved.
I mentioned to the carer that I had been worrying that perhaps the classes were not making much of a difference. She reassured me that the sessions were worthwhile and that both men were very happy to come on this morning.
It was encouraging to hear that.
Perhaps the changes in this kind of work are small and almost invisible at first. But moments like this — a relaxed arrival, a half hour of focused silence, a sense of satisfaction at the end — suggest that something meaningful is taking place.
supported by Creative Scotland
Nicola Neate 