Creative Writing Workshop Eve 19.10.2017
So the great day is almost upon us....the “creative writing workshop”...and I still can’t fathom what on earth use I’m going to be. It’s the young people’s voices that we want to hear after all (not mine...a vintage number cruncher!) Ah well, at least it will be something colourful to add to my CV, a human anecdote to contrast my usual cold calculating science. (But hey, that’s allowing myself to slip into lazy cliché…contrary to common belief, scientists are not actually unfeeling robots!!)
So anyway, on the eve of the workshop I’m wondering whether we even know what is it that we want to convey when we deliver this TED talk. How it is to have to change your mental health therapist simply because of your age maybe? I guess it must be like falling off a cliff....and hoping that someone or something will break your fall. But maybe that’s too simple...and heroic. Perhaps the reality is a whole lot darker...
I shudder, sensing that being a pawn in such a process must be rather frightening, reinforcing feelings of powerlessness and worthlessness, making young people believe they are no more than a box to be ticked, or a problem to be moved on.
If all goes to plan by the end of tomorrow I will know the answer...I will have heard our young advisors’ stories…I will know how bad it feels. Yet still a part of me wishes to retain the defence of ignorance. Isn’t there enough misery in this world, my world, for me to sit out of this particular problem? Something in my conscience says “no. Our young advisors and study participants are sharing their hearts and their hurts in the hope that by doing so something good will come of it. The very least we researchers should do is stand with them.