Abstract
This paper seeks to illuminate, un/tangle and embody the experience of a social worker facilitating learning circles for community services workers. The author takes an autoethnographic approach to this journey. Context (upright font), and practice narrative writing, (in italics font throughout), is interwoven to explore the lived experience of facilitation and provide insights on the decolonial application of leading reflective practice groups. The piece seeks to submerge the reader in the sea of awareness and the dance of co-creation which occurs through the enactment of reflective practice in a group setting.
Autoethnographic article:
What is a circle? As I consider wisdom from a millennium; images and beliefs wash over me. A ring, eternal. A group. A changing certainty. Paradox. A shape. No edges. It encloses in and protects from out. People are held inside. Is it a cycle? Like the seasons, like life. The astronomer-physicist Chet Raymo (2008) says “all beginnings wear their endings”. Circles can represent limitlessness, unity, and wholeness. My hopes for reflective practice exist in the many understandings of a circle. Circles have a centre. A common place. In this case, the work is the learning, the co-creation of meaning. Maybe. I prepare for the group learning circle.
I use reflexive practices of autoethnography to consider, explore and reflect on how I am immersed in theory and practice, and how I think about investigating relational dynamics and cultural landscapes in terms of decolonisation (McIlveen, 2008). Social workers can undertake autoethnography and traverse how the method engages with social justice (Witkin, 2022). Carrying out critical social work (Healy, 2018), through autoethnographic writing, enables me to highlight systemic and structural factors relevant to social work practice. Through using autoethnography to illuminate the facilitation experience, I can encourage the reader and participants to engage with creativity and open themselves to new ways of supervising staff. This is done by attending to the layers of relationship in working with people. Holman Jones et al. (2013) illustrates how autoethnography is used as a way of accessing and paying attention to the description of ourselves, or lack thereof, in exploring my/our experiences. It is the struggle and how we sit with uncertainty that matters. The value of distance is often related to objectivity and ‘valid’ research. I choose to disrupt this notion. Autoethnographic writing allows for the ‘I’ to be introduced (Farrell et al., 2015). I can use the self-reflective narrative to highlight the relationship between self, the practice and the participants. In using autoethnography, I aim to be critically subjective (Meekums, 2008), deeply personal and expose the positionality of a facilitator (self) in this learning space.
I move into the critical reflexivity required for this work; embracing uncertainty and the ‘potential space’ (Winnicott, 2005) which is required to do the creative labour of group work facilitation. I seek to draw the reader into the lived experience of the facilitator sustaining reflective learning circles, underpinned by Dadirri 1 (Ungunmerr-Baumann, 1988). Dadirri ‘is inner, deep listening and quiet, still awareness’ (Ungunmerr-Baumann, 1998). Social work in so called Australia has an oppressive and uneasy history (Bennett, 2019; Walter et al., 2011) which has include past complicity in relation to the Stolen Generations and undertaking policy and practice responses which have disadvantaged Indigenous Australians (Yu, 2019) Redfern and Bennett (2022) provide a model to support reflection, integration and action on learning which is culturally responsive. I drew upon this intercultural critical reflection model to consider ‘relational reflection – in the intersections between and across the 4 spaces of self, other, physical world and spiritual world’ (p. 139).
Learning circles have a rich history in Indigenous cultures (Jennings et al., 2015). The use of circles in reflective practice enables power sharing and a disruption of the expert/novice dichotomy which often exists in reflective practice. In this case, the learning circle process was used as a form of reflective practice in a regional health service in Australia. The Learning Circles project, underpinned by Dadirri, ran for 12 months in regional South-West Australia, with a group social workers and community services workers who worked in family support services. Participants in the group identified as men and women and were culturally diverse, including one Indigenous welfare worker. Tasks undertaken by the workers included case management, counselling, and support with families. The project was initiated to begin to decolonise reflective practices in the team and privilege Indigenous knowledges (Al-Natour and Mears, 2016), which is a key component of the Australian Association of Social Workers [AASW] Practice Standards in particular, Standard 8 (2023). Decolonisation is a key underpinning of this work to ensure culturally responsive service provision to First Nations families and others who are from culturally and racially marginalised backgrounds. Green and Bennett (2018) emphasise the importance of decolonisation requiring the individual and profession to shine a light on themselves. Learning circles encourage this in the reflective journey. This is an alternative to managerialist forms of supervision which locate the supervisor or facilitator as the expert in the work, offering advice, case direction and guidance (Mbongeni Shadrack and Allucia Lulu, 2023).
As an ally in supporting the integration of Indigenous knowledges in my role as a group facilitator, I am aware of my colonising heritage as a white woman. I work actively on identifying and challenging my assumptions and biases which exist. Disrupting and critically reflecting on key elements of my social position is necessary to take accountability and to begin to recognise the effects of colonisation on self (Dudgeon and Walker, 2015). Positionality matters and cultural consultation was integral to each step of the Learning Circles project. In terms of my work, this includes on-going engagement with anti-racist practices, including peer supervision aimed at increasing my ability to engage with the six phases of decolonisation for the coloniser (Muller, 2016) and white identity formation theory (Helms, 1995). Another key aspect of this work includes participating in meaningful relationships with First Nations people. This was enacted through a close relationship with a traditional woman as a colleague and cultural mentor for this project and beyond. Other relationships included attending Community events on Country and building connections between the health service and Indigenous agencies. I attempt, in this way of working, to disrupt the previously held ways of privileging managerialist perspectives (Ferguson, 2017). Rowe et al. (2015) advocate for the use of ‘Multidimensional Reflexivity,’ which had a profound impact on me as I aspired to aim for a repositioning of self throughout this process. They emphasize the importance of non-Indigenous researchers adopting the stance of learners and facilitators (p. 11). For me, this approach fosters the disruption of power differentials by embracing a co-learner position alongside learning circle participants.
I will embrace reflective writing to move between the lived experience of the writer in the group work setting, (italics font throughout), and the critical thinking (upright font) which occurred in the moments of the group. I aim to illuminate this dance between thinking, feeling, doing, and being as a facilitator of the Learning Circle through autoethnographic writing.
In a previous article (Holmes, 2023), I outline the process & method of Learning Circles underpinned by Dadirri (LC-D) including the process of the facilitator moving into the physical space. Sensory items have been used to locate myself and the group in the moment. Brach (2024) describes mindfulness as a present moment awareness, which allows for developing presence. The use of sensory items, (things you can touch, taste or smell), enables an embodied experience, that is, enhancement of my sense of ‘being’ in this time and space.
There’s lavender along the wooden enclosure. The fence looks like broken soldiers, hobbling and looking through my attempts to pick flowers with a scent. I pause, closing my eyes to imagine the flower beyond the smell. I wonder how the staff I work with will use this invitation to ground in the circle later this day. I believe [hope] this will move the group, and myself, to the natural environment when we inhale the purple. The use of olfactory memory may stimulate a felt sense of calm. Lavender is traditionally used to support rest, decrease anxiety, and stimulate brain activity. As I casually google this, I realise the connection to some of my hopes for the group. Breathing deeply, phone in pocket to bring myself back to a state of contemplative preparation, I imagine the outside pre-winter air. It cools my nervous system and the rumination which can usurp the starting of the learning circle.
Part of facilitating a successful reflective practice group is consideration of how the space is set up. This space includes not only the physical space, but the psychological space, the conceptualisation of why I do what I do. Bion (1962a) defined the concept of the container, a person who is able to ‘hold’ overwhelming thoughts and emotions for the person/system or group. I use this concept in an expanded sense to allow for the idea of the group to feel held and protected in the spaces.
I move to the room; the sun making dust dance as I move the couches and rehabilitation chairs into a circle. Rehabilitate echoes around my thoughts – re-educate, reorientate , restore, regenerate. The many iterations of rehabilitation works through my knowing – I ruminate on the word, morphing to habitat. The word, habituate skims on the surface of my comprehension. Community service work is complex and consuming. Does this practice of holding the circle work with ease on the habituation or holding of the work? I roll this idea around my head. I allow it to enter my heart. I hope.
Labouring on the room allows a presence to emerge. I am thinking about the circle and tuning into Dadirri. Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Baumanns’ (1988) voice reverberates through my body; “Dadirri recognises the deep spring that is inside us. We call on it and it calls to us.” The call to disrupt previously held assumptions and ways of doing reflective practice is present as I move through the set up in a mindful manner. I privilege the group as knowledgeable in the circle. There is no authority but rather a deepening respect for the members of the group. Trust is a key ingredient in this work – the belief in the possibility of co-creation. The narratives we weave may allow new knowledge to emerge. I imagine the group as a cocoon at the pupae stage of life. The growing of the larvae; a metamorphosis of understanding in the group. The hope of this then working in parallel for the vulnerable families we serve.
An image in my mind’s eye enters; of dew drop on a leaf as the members enter the room and take their place in the circle. The drops of water are magnified. The reflection of a whole eco-system is contained in each person. It takes my breath away and there’s something sacred in the coming together of social workers, housing workers, children’s workers. The capacity within the room to then influence and deeply listen to the stories in their field of practice. My hopes of the germination of this state of presence being transferred to the families we work with. A hope of embodiment of the parallel process. The potential for our vulnerable families to experience a calm worker who demonstrates non-judgemental acceptance of families’ lived experience puts me on the edge of a cliff of possibility. Can we jump together? Can they?
Listening, my breath weaves it way through tissue, oesophagus, and the red blood cells weep as I see the vulnerabilities in the team emerge. They are safe, contained and attention is paid to them. I care for them as I would a small pup – soft hands, warm heart and grounded feet. The voices wash over me. They take care as they tune in to each other. I see tendons finger the perennial and reflect on the analogy of re-generation in thought, theory evolution and their thinking/feeling states.
Part of the group facilitation process is enabling an understanding of emotional awareness and attunement (Barrero Jaramillo and Gaztambide-Fernandez, 2019) to support the groups’ sense of safety. I see my ability to co-regulate and allow for the window of tolerance (Siegel, 2020) needing to be utilised. This is part of the integral work of a skilled facilitator.
Attention flows through my body – at times the words stick in my gut. I want to react, respond, correct, cry. I wait. My role is to make and hold space, creating a container for all the layers of dialogue to reside in. They are at home in the circle. I will not give preference to my surging desires. I tap into the meta-cognition occurring on multiple levels. I think about my thinking. I feel my feeling. I use these multiple awareness’s as data, a way of allowing the group to make sense of the topic together. As I/we move between these knowledge systems, tiny tendrils of assumptions, biases, beliefs, and ways of being in the work are de-constructed and co-constructed (White and Epston, 1990). The tendrils combine – electric eels extend recognition. They can knot, straining against each other for the ease of exploration. Dadirri and its call for deep listening, moves me to watch and wonder.
Dadirri is the gift to Australia from First Nations people (Ungunmerr-Baumann, 1988). The integration of Dadirri throughout each step of the facilitation process is a key underpinning of the model. Deep listening is a resource we draw upon to be present; to privilege First Nations ways of being, doing and knowing. As a non-Indigenous facilitator, the priority is practicing this way of being and then bringing this presence into the group, modelling possibility and awareness. The struggle of using decolonising practices is undertaken on Gulidjan Country and collaboration with local First Nations people is key. I pay attention to the very real possibility of moving from cultural appreciation to cultural appropriation. Finding a place to be uncertain and uncomfortable with this is part of the reflexive process (Coates et al., 2013). The opportunity for decolonising practice (Ryan and Ivelja, 2023) is enhanced through disrupting colonial ways of ‘doing’ reflective practice. The opportunity of not having back-and-forth discussion, critique or opinion allows for the shared knowledge to wash across the group.
Silence is explicitly welcomed in the group. It is part of the learning circle practice stated agreements. At times, it’s oppressive. I count in my head whilst waiting for the next narrative and my body is made of granite. Holding space at these times, a chore. Whilst I know intellectually the time is transient, it rolls through me like concrete cracking under the weight. I yearn for alleviation and then notice I am far away from the group with my thoughts. I breathe back into the circle and become aware. Noticing of members attention. The silence supports inward observation of what the circle allows. The concrete morphs and transforms to a river. Meandering through me, the water is sun kissed as the circle continues. The “deep inner spring” 1 nourishes the group and silence becomes the gift of contemplation. Like the circle, this too will change. The cycles strengthen the possibility of consistency within the uncomfortable.
The model of practice includes turn-taking, listening and learning from the experiences of the other. There is no expert, no universal truth. Only the belief in the power of the learning circle. It provides the opportunity to integrate the narratives offered up by each member into each person’s understanding of the work. This is the work of co-creation of story. The group strives to become what it can be. As I sit with this possibility, I wonder how the stories become embodied. What is it in this process which allows the reflexivity, to be integrated in the work with families. I believe in the power of the parallel process (Hora, 1957). The transference of this transformational experience then being re-enacted in the therapeutic relationship of the day-to-day work.
As we near the end of our time together, the energy of the group shifts. The spring inside the circle hints at abundance, a gratefulness and capacity to reflect in an accepting space. Role consideration floods through me as I return to the frame. The summary of the narrative, giving voice to the emergent themes of the group creates opportunity of a new and enhanced understanding of the topic. This is my hope. My hopes are many. I hold these hopes alongside the possibility of stagnation. A fear of stagnation of self. Trust in hope is at odds with the idea of certainty. This is a hope as the measures of success in a managerialist world which needs to include an answer. An outcome. Tangible evidence of the practice of reflection. In de-colonising these measures, we privilege ‘not-knowing’, the lived experience and felt sense of calm regulation. When the circle is left, the work remains in our hearts, minds, and spirits. We continue to walk, run, stride and crawl through the emotional terrain of community service.
Navigating and enacting decolonizing practices in the learning circles space presents many tensions. As a non-Indigenous person, I actively work to dismantle colonial influences in both thought and action. My challenge lies in being a true comrade while deliberately disrupting Western approaches in this space. I continuously commit to deepening my self-awareness, knowing that this work is never complete. The embodiment in this work are my attempts to think about, to explore, to play with and to understand my role as a reflective practice facilitator. I grapple with the use of autoethnographic writing as a gateway to this understanding and as a way of applying decolonising practices in this space. My hope is this may be helpful to other social workers, facilitators and allies to engage and feel into this work. There are fears and shadows around me and I hold them as gently as I would the opportunity for growth which emerges in the group processes.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
This paper was written on Gulidjan Country of the Maar Nation. The learning circles took place on the land of the Gulidjan people of the Maar Nation. The writer acknowledge change sovereignty was never ceded. Respects are paid to the Traditional Custodians of the lands and to Elders past, present, and emerging. The Indigenous People of many nations have developed healing, talking, and learning circles throughout time. They are gratefully acknowledged. I thank the Miriam-Rose Foundation for granting permission to use the concept of Dadirri. I am grateful to local Gulidjan woman, Ebony Hickey for her wisdom and partnership. I acknowledge the work of Edna Iles, an Alawa elder and social work student. Her articulation of Indigenous ways of doing, being and knowing contributed to the deep thinking to the original project [2019-2021]. I also acknowledge Belinda Densley for her contribution to the project.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Centre for Excellence in Child and Family Welfare: OPEN [Outcomes, Practice and Evidence Network] (OPEN evidence based practice grants).
