Special issue on migration, autumn issue 2020

Dear Readers,

Migration is the focus of this issue, with a particular interest in the practice with those people who have migrated and their supporters.

The act of migrating describes the movement of people from one geographical place to another. It is a natural phenomenon that has been happening since the beginning of life on earth (Collins Dictionary, www.collinsdictionary.com). It is the direct consequence of weather events such as floods and hurricanes, conflict and persecution as well as political and economic crises. Migration has shaped the world as we experience it today.

Most of us have some experience of moving from a place where we are used to feeling at home, to another less familiar place. We recognise this sense of having to let go of some well-known aspects of our life, a certain in-between-ness, heading for a new kind of equilibrium, a new level of familiarity with ourselves in our environment. For many of us, it simply takes time and building up experiences; for others, however, it leaves marks that will never completely vanish.

Moving is not a single happening. Usually, there is a combination of life-changing elements. For example, we move because our parents are divorcing; because the family’s financial or social circumstances have changed; we leave our home-town to go and study abroad or we move because we are leaving our family home.

Migration usually refers to the movement of people from one country, continent or society to another. How much choice someone has in this situation can make a big difference in how equipped they feel to integrate into their new environment. For example, whether it is a choice to study abroad, or if forced to migrate because of sexual orientation or due to political activities can determine the experience of migration.

This past couple of years have seen the United Nations Member States finalise two global compacts, which call for a united global effort in response to migration: The Global Compact for Safe, Orderly and Regular Migration, and the Global Compact on Refugees. Although they are not legally binding, these compacts represent a near-universal consensus on the issues requiring sustained international cooperation and commitment (International Organization for Migration, 2020, p.6). Migration is not someone else’s problem it is a shared responsibility in which every country has a part to play. Despite the hardship and widespread negative beliefs, let’s not forget that migrants have made significant contributions globally in a multitude of ways. Migrants form a bridge between two countries or cultures. They often create employment for themselves and others bringing their skills with them; they are valued entrepreneurs and contribute significantly to the healthcare professions, to name but a few.

Whilst the word ‘migration’ aims to be neutral, the topic is politically charged. The language of migration has evolved over time; some words such as ‘exile’ and ‘alien’ are now obsolete (Ruz, 2015), others, however, are still much debated as to which describes the status and experience of those leaving their country to seek to create home, even if temporarily, in another country. In this issue, authors use the terms ‘refugees’, ‘asylum seekers’, ‘forced migrants’ and ‘migrants’. At their best words define; they enable us to categorise and find commonalities, and differences, so that we can ascribe meaning and sub-themes. This potentially helps us to organise and theorise. At their worst, they segregate. For example, Mawuna Remarque Koutonin (2015) dares to ask ‘why are white people expats when the rest of us are immigrants?’ which reminds us of the uncomfortable truth that migration remains to this day, as thought about hierarchically according to skin colour and social and economic status: Westerners are expats, Asians, Africans, Arabs are migrants. Is the system racist? In response to the Black Lives Matter movement, Expressive Arts Psychotherapist, Ally Guida Smith (2020) shouts out: ‘It’s ok to acknowledge your own internalised racism and be anti-racist and do anti-racist work. In fact, it’s essential’.

We are all citizens of the world, interconnected. There is a lot that we all share: for example, our humanity and capacity to think and love. Yet privileges do not seem to be shared. With migration comes the experience of becoming a stranger, a stranger to oneself and a stranger in the eyes of ‘the other’ (Ahmed, 2000). How do we address an essential topic such as migration, without an unspoken undertone of colonialism and divisiveness? Maybe Guida Smith (ibid) is pressing us all to question and embody our own experience of movement, freedom and identity and to inquire into our shared yearning for a place to call home. Thus, she implies, we own our discomfort and nurture the possibility of feeling into our interconnectedness whilst being sensitive to, and respectful of, our differences.

While every migration causes some form of crisis when the circumstances are strenuous, there is often also a manifestation of developmental and shock trauma.

One can say that somebody is in a state of crisis of the psyche when they find themselves in a situation in life where previous experiences and acquired responses are not sufficient to understand the actual situation and to get a hold of it on the level of the psyche. (Cullberg, 1980, p.16)

The kind of moving, or migration, that the authors describe in this issue of Body, Movement and Dance in Psychotherapy is often quite complex and multi-layered. People leave their homes, their countries, their families and their societies for reasons of, for example, war, discrimination, dangerous political conditions, economic pressure, or other adverse circumstances.

The pressure of those circumstances that caused their migration can be long term since the migrants were very young. This childhood stress can cause developmental trauma (MacNaughton, 2004) and might end up shaping automatic patterns of behaviour and posture as a response to various situations and people.

The events leading up to migration can also be shocking and sudden: for example, an immediate war, or political change causing violence and suppression where this was not the case before. The unexpected and sudden intensity of adverse happenings can cause shock trauma (Holm Brantbjerg et al., 2006), which in turn makes people mainly exist in a survival mode, based on fight-flight-freeze responses.

Both long term stress and (shock) trauma can have severe consequences for memory formation and retrieval (Van der Kolk, 1996). This can lead to a sense of disorientation and loss of stable identity. Therefore, working with migrants there needs to be attention to multi-layered aspects: for example, crisis help to support people to ‘land’ in their new environment and situation; work with the shock trauma to help land and digest the recent events and the physiological responses to these events; psychotherapy and trauma work to support the long term patterns of reactions and behaviour to adjust to a new reality, including more integration of memory systems (Prengel, 2011).

Crisis help is vital in all cases of migration. People’s regular social support system is not available as they have left their extended family, friends and culture behind. Possible helpful rituals that they know in their home countries might not be in use in their new country. Displaced people are often dependent on others – their host country and international organisations – for knowledge of the system, money, food and housing before they get an official status and a permit. Only then can they start to earn a living of their own.

Trauma work and psychotherapy, on the other hand, are essential in working through experiences that forced someone to forget and dissociate and which have come at significant cost to health. Many migrants will need a certain amount of this level of work to gain a basic level of feeling safe, in control and in charge of their lives.

We are writing this editorial during the Covid-19 crisis. The quarantine measures hamper our freedom of movement and the possibility of being physically close to other people. This new experience shines a light on another aspect that might add to the stress of displaced people: a facet that seems to be the opposite of moving. Once they arrive in their host country, refugees are often limited to stay in designated places. Whether it be camps or centres, they are not free to go wherever they wish. This restriction of movement adds to the feeling of lack of control over their own lives. Consequently, this brings about aggression and depression, as currently seen happening all over the world while the pandemic is holding us in its grasp.

Because of this stress factor, it is essential to offer migrants ways of expressing themselves safely. This can help to regulate feelings of helplessness and frustration. On the other hand, to overcome difficulties in life, whatever the size, having hope and perspective is paramount. One of the objectives of therapists and other supporters of migrants is to help them to build and own confidence in their abilities. It is precisely these abilities that have been their resources that helped them survive what happened to them in their home countries and accomplish the journey to this point. This building of self-confidence supports maintaining hope. Hope gives a feeling of perspective and preserves the energy to go on when circumstances are adverse.

Between them the presented articles herewith point to the value of a cross-cultural and pluralistic approach, whether with migrants or with those working with migrants. The self-education of the therapist is named several times as well as the importance of having an awareness of current significant events taking place in the country of origin of the migrants the therapist works with. Ultimately, all the authors point to the value of working with acute sensitivity to the body, creativity and movement.

We were intrigued that the majority of articles present work that is often not explicitly called psychotherapy yet delivered by psychotherapists and introduced here in a psychotherapy journal. It feels important to acknowledge a tension here; not to deny the value of the work, but on the contrary maybe to validate the depth of the work carried out and the challenges experienced by practitioners, when giving a name to something so that it feels safe to access for those for whom it has been created.

Enver Cesko, from Kosovo, in his article ‘Body oriented work with refugees’, touches upon the different themes one has to deal with when offering psychotherapy with refugees. It is a complex web that consists of diverse work areas: crisis work in, for example, refugee camps to help people realise that they are in a safer place; shock trauma work to help regulate the nervous system to a more balanced way of working; trauma work to deal with memory; psychotherapy to frame what happened within people’s life history – past and future; psychoeducation to understand the biological and psychological reactions to traumatic events.

His work speaks to the war in the former republic of Yugoslavia. Firstly, Cesko tells us about his personal history and his journey to becoming a body psychotherapist, working both in a group and in private settings. Secondly, he leads us through a principle of using various body psychotherapy methods in working with refugees and trauma clients in a more general sense. Cesko uses Mind-Body Medicine, Radix, Biodynamics, Biosynthesis, Freudian and Reichian principles, as well as modern trauma principles, referring to Van der Kolk (2014) and Rothschild (2000).

He focuses on boundary setting, creating a safe space and enabling the expression of blocked emotions. Aims include to restore a sense of control, decrease the hyperarousal that is often part of the post-traumatic existence, and develop an understanding of trauma. He also mentions attention for the spiritual dimension of living through trauma. Last, but not least, Cesko stresses the therapist’s obligation to not only work from her/his social-cultural perspective but to also have a strong understanding of the cultural background of the client.

‘Transformed ground, transformed body: clinical implications for dance movement therapy with forced migrants’ by Elena Aranda, Margaret Hills de Zarate and Heidrun Panhofer from Spain, illuminates how dance movement therapy (DMT) can be of value in working with displaced people. They show how the non-verbal aspect of this work supports an open and unbiased stance of curiosity. Such an attitude helps overcome social, cultural, racial, and language differences which are stressful factors for people who often enter a world that is so very different from that of their place of origin.

Displaced people have lost their family and social support on the one hand, and on the other, they arrive in a place where they feel not always warmly welcomed. In many host countries, there is a growing tendency of rejection, hostility and fear towards people from other cultures and race. The process of ‘so-called’ acculturation is stressful.

The authors illustrate the themes of identity, resilience, trauma, loss and grief through a wide selection of literature. Subsequently, they direct their spotlight to the therapeutic relationship and then to what is specifically important in working with displaced people. They stress the value of having a good notion of one’s own cultural and racial identity and how this can influence the therapy process. The therapist should be well informed about the sociocultural background of the client to appreciate that the process is shaped and informed by two streams of culture. The article’s last part describes how DMT is uniquely and explicitly working non-verbally, with movement, with the body and body-mind integration. These clients need to maintain their own cultural identity while integrating into their new environment. Furthermore, they need to integrate body and mind when dissociated through the enormous changes and traumatic events that preceded their arrival in the host country. The conclusion is that DMT works well in processes with displaced people. The non-verbal, body and movement approaches are beneficial in finding a new balance after the destabilisation of having left all that is familiar behind while having entered a place of uncertainty where everything seems to be strange and unknown.

In the article entitled ‘With compass and plumb-line: a dance movement therapy systemic approach in the field of refugee crisis’, Elli Kita, from Greece, reports on a 36-hour group empowerment training and supervision programme for the workers of a division of a non-governmental agency providing social counselling and legal aid to asylum seekers and refugees. Step by step the readers are taken on a journey, first explaining how DMT and systemic work are finding each other in a dialogue that provides a creative method for working with professional groups and organisations. Katakis’ ‘Self-referential conceptual system’ (Katakis, 1986, 1990a, 1990b, 2018) and Best’s ‘Relational creative process model’ (Best, 2008, 2010) offer theoretical backgrounds to this dialogue. Kita describes the essence of each method clearly. Subsequently, she draws a picture of what this creative process looks like, and how the two views integrate. Firstly, there is a structural description of the training and supervision process. Secondly, Kita takes the readers into the narrative of the process. This narrative shows how chaos and tension between values in the organisation is a natural part in this setting, when working with refugees and asylum seekers, as there are many sudden and unforeseen happenings, while the tasks are manifold. Also, the participants hold different positions in the organisation and consequently have a different point of view. The work asks a lot out of the professionals, who need closeness on a personal level, but at the same time, enough professional distance. In conclusion, an essential goal of the process was to enhance adaptability within the organisation. The facilitators achieved this by helping the group members discover the importance of being present in their bodies, develop the ability to hold differences, keep the structure and, within this structure, maintain meaningful relations.

In their article, ‘Improving migrant well-being: spontaneous movement to increase the creativity, spontaneity and welfare of migrants in Glasgow’, Garcia-Medrano, from Scotland, and Heidrun Panhofer, from Spain, present ‘spontaneous movement’. This article reports on a recent two-year project that followed the fundamentals of DMT. The group sessions are referred to as ‘workshops’, set up to promote health, body awareness and wellbeing and strengthen affective bonds, creativity and psychosocial competencies. The authors aptly remind us not to pathologise migrants, but nonetheless to be mindful of the impact ‘off-rooting’, by this we mean leaving one’s country of birth or a place that is so familiar that most can be taken for granted, has on people’s physical and mental health. Movement and dance are championed as ancestral channels for bonding, release, self-expression and the development of a sense of belonging. The outcomes confirm the literature (Chodorow, 2013; Karkou & Sanderson, 2006; Koch & Cruz, 2014; Levy, 1988; Meekums, 2002; Payne, 1992, 2006; Schott-Billmann, 2014), breaking down and offering examples on the multiple benefits of DMT. One of the authors is explicit about the fact that her own migration journey coloured her work as facilitator of the spontaneous movement sessions. The article concludes that such community-based projects bring people with varied experiences of migration together; creating a safe platform that facilitates self-expression and social integration.

In their article, ‘Existing in-between two worlds: supporting asylum seeking women living in temporary accommodation through a creative movement and art intervention’, Marina Rova, Claire Burrell and Marika Cohen, from the UK, take us through the meanders of a community collaborative arts therapy project called ‘The Moving Space Project’ which involved women asylum seekers who live in temporary accommodation. They speak of their work as a moment in time. The sessions tend to work as stand-alone. They take place at the cross-roads between many aspects of diversity, which include physical ability, socio-political, cultural and religious stories unique to each woman attending the project. They remind us that nonverbal ways of working are seminal in establishing communication between women from diverse cultural backgrounds who also speak different languages. Their work lies at the threshold between two transitory spaces, an ‘in-between’. These women feel as if they are ‘neither here, nor there’. They have left a home and country in often dramatic circumstances with no time to prepare and have arrived in the UK with no certainty about their status, living in transitory accommodation. As they put it so succinctly, the authors hold ‘liminality within spatial, temporal and ontological contexts’. They identify the dynamic nature of the work, speak to how they hold tensions between differences and shift between knowing and not-knowing. Their case study presentation illustrates how containing and enlivening, embodied processes and artmaking can be. The authors stress the creative process as core to the therapeutic process and as a steppingstone towards the uncovering, discovering, recognising and rekindling of one’s own resilience and adaptability. Refreshingly, the authors hold the challenges of ambiguity, uncertainty and loss of control as well as the potential for change and transformation that the ‘in-between-ness’ offers. The work ‘behind the scenes’, the thinking and creating together by the facilitators is evident in this paper and speaks to the importance of joint thinking and processing when offering a holding space in such transient and potentially chaotic situations.

This special issue on migration has sharpened our awareness by the presentation of different perspectives on work with migrants. Behind each of us and each of the words we use there is a whole world. We do not always know what this is. To have a sense of what that world might be we need to be curious and sensitive. What stands out for us as guest co-editors of this issue is the invitation, through the articles, to be able to not only work with one’s own culture but to also be curious and informed about the culture of the people with whom we work. Our differences matter. Working consciously with the dissonances between each other is important, not because there is anything to fix, but because of how enlivening sharing our worlds can be.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the authors.

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Céline Butté

Céline Butté, ADMP, UKCP is a UK based dance movement psychotherapist, supervisor, teacher and movement artist who works internationally, face-to-face and via remote platforms. She is the founder of Heart of Movement through which she runs a private practice, a member of the Merton Arts Therapies team for People with Learning Disabilities, core teacher on the Creative Supervision diploma with the London Centre for Psychodrama and visiting lecturer at Roehampton University. Her ongoing movement practice is rooted in Body Mind Centering® and Contact Improvisation and profoundly informs all strands of her work.

Lidy Evertsen

Lidy Evertsen, EABP-NVLP, SBLP is a body psychotherapist, supervisor and trainer in her own company Lidy Evertsen Therapy&Coaching, based in The Netherlands and also working internationally. She is specialised in working with trauma and dissociative aspects of the personality. Her background is in Unitive Psychotherapy, Bodynamic Therapy and Bodynamic Shocktrauma Therapy. She has a history as a professional classical singer and voice pedagogue. She has been the president of EABP for six years and is currently chairing both EABP’s Think Tank and Continuing Congress Content Committee.