Teaching trauma-informed practice through comedy

'I look at the stage in front of me and realise it's go-time. The room is rustling. The emotional residue from the previous speaker, a poet, is crackling through the bodies in the room. It's a room full of love, compassion, and weight. Trauma is heavy. Collectively the room is holding its breath. And while usually my job is to sit with and hold that feeling, today, my job is to help us all exhale. 

Clinical turned comedian

I was at the Community Psychology Festival at the Dynamic Earth centre in Edinburgh to perform a stand-up comedy set about trauma-informed practice. Attending other sessions that day, I recognised how the workshops and discussions embodied the kindness and activism Community Psychology is known for. I will admit, I was unsure if I would fit in; I am a scientist-practitioner with a capital S and identify strongly with the clinical part of my Clinical Psychologist title, yet, the festival vibe immediately set a relaxed tone. I wore a wrist band instead of a lanyard, and there was a welcome 'crew' to greet me instead of a formal desk to register at. 

My stand-up comedy set about trauma-informed practice was expertly placed by the organisers to follow a serious and moving evocation of how trauma feels. Contrary to opinion, comedy is not the opposite of serious, it compliments it, it flows from it. Comedy comes from juxtaposition with seriousness, or pain, or awkwardness. It arises when we notice what we expect to feel and are given permission to feel it and see past it. 

I enter the stage and crouch down in one corner, pretending to hide and relishing the confused faces before me. "Imagine", I whisper into the microphone, "Imagine you are in a comedy club here in Edinburgh, the festival city, and you're sitting on an uncomfortable stool, hopefully not too close to the front - unless you want to be heckled, you daredevil! You are considering whether you have time to nip to the loo, or to get a drink.. erm, no wait, that's just me and my middle-aged bladder… it's me! It's time for some comedy!"

I uncrouch and stand proudly before a bemused crowd and quickly raise some laughter with bespoke jokes like; "what do you call an introverted community psychologist? You don't call, geez, she's shy, you text!!". I then get to the meat/tofu of my message; how trauma-informed practice and stand-up comedy are the same. They both require vulnerability and bravery, they both work best when authentic, and they both somehow privilege me to speak in front of the most open-hearted people. 

Spreading the trauma-informed gospel

In Forth Valley, mid-way between Edinburgh and Glasgow in Scotland, where I work as a Clinical Psychologist, I had a remit* to spread the trauma-informed gospel. This involved offering workshops and training to everyone who was interested at informed, skilled and specialist levels. I also had the opportunity to get to know the Resilience Learning Partnership, our local power house of lived-experience education and training expertise, where I learned how to work meaningfully with lived understanding and get beyond the tokenistic. As I spent more and more time in this role, I realised I laughed. A lot. I laughed during wellbeing sessions as the group described our puny attempts at self-care. We pointed and laughed at the cats climbing on chairs and keyboards during online training sessions. And we laughed as I connected with the people who came along to reflect and learn more; people open to considering how common and how impactful trauma can be on us all. The gravity of the topic seemed to lead us to welcoming opportunities to laugh and breathe.

I found stand-up comedy through Bright Club; a stand-up comedy club where academics and others speak about interesting topics. As an Irish woman, who never fails to laugh at a funeral or during a mindfulness session, I was intrigued. A couple of evenings of training and many coffee shop scribbles later, I was ready to perform a stand-up comedy set on psychosis and a few months later, on adverse childhood experiences. The latter set rested heavily on the juxtaposition between hard truths and tension about the pervasiveness of ACEs, yet I managed to sprinkle the set with cheese jokes. And I for one thought it went 'grate'!

From hard and painful, to light and silly

How my set can go from hard and painful, to light and silly also feels relevant to my experience of delivering trauma-processing therapies: we can go from harrowing painful memories, to laughing at our shared experience in the here and now. Like a grounding exercise where the client sees a rogue Peppa pig sticker on my jacket hanging on the back of the door. Or hears someone having a wee in the toilet through the wall next door. Laughing and comedy come when the client and I have a good relationship, where we are able to relax and be present together. Indeed, it can be a sign that relationally, we are safe. It can be used as a distraction, or a way to ease into a heavy session, or more importantly, a way to resurface and reconnect with something incredibly painful; a present tense re-evaluation of the absurdity that is now safely in the past. Laughter and joking arises when the trauma-informed principles are present: safety, trust, collaboration, control and empowerment. Like trauma-informed trauma therapy, stand up comedy works best when the comic is authentic, emotive, and vulnerable. The audience and comic are trusting of each other; The comedy needs to be saying, "know where you think this is going, and I plan to surprise you in a way that will make you laugh". Relationship and context are key. Tension and release- and for the Community Psychology conference I was the release after sharing Shakara's powerful poetry. A release induced with bad puns about Freud and satire about not trusting whether I can remember Elizabeth Loftus' research correctly. 

My comedy goals

In my set I spoke about humour based questionnaires (some have comically not aged well!), I shared the evidence around humour and mental health outcomes; how self-defeating humour has negative associations with mental health and loneliness, while affirmative and self-enhancing are related to positive mental health. I spoke about the stigma-busting power of comedy; for example, the power of collective recognition of pelvic floor issues as a public health intervention (Elaine Miller, aka Gusset Grippers) and the work of Angie Belcher, comedian and writer who leads 'Comedy on Referral'.  I also invited the audience to write their own jokes, it was joyous to hear the room laugh and play.

When my set ended I noticed many more people came forward to speak with me than after regular conferences and presentations. Comedy made me approachable than ever before. I left feeling buoyed, connected and funny! Yes, I wasn't as lofty as the other presenters, but I get to feel lofty and serious during the rest of my day job. As I walked to the bus stop on the way home I was already plotting my next gig. 

I want to bring a conversation about PTSD and trauma to the masses and help people learn that it's safe to speak about it. Traumatic events often involve threat, danger, or being trapped, and can be caused by natural disasters, accidents or other people. PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) and complex PTSD can arise after traumatic experiences due to issues with cognitive appraisal and memory processing which leads to re-experiencing symptoms (such as flashbacks or nightmares), hypervigilance and avoidance. Avoidance is a key mechanism that maintains distress and interferes with memory processing. Traumatic events are common, PTSD doesn't have to be.

If I have a comedy goal, it is that societally we will no longer avoid, but move towards recovery with curiosity while acknowledging the absurdity of how PTSD is our brains trying to protect us. I hope that we can collectively override the stigma and worry that our stories are too much for others to handle, and realise that by sharing them we can connect and relate,  and ultimately, override the harm that trauma can cause. Oh, and make us laugh.

 * I was the TPTIC (Transforming Psychological Trauma Implementation Coordinator) for the area- employed by NHS Education for Scotland.