Pathways to embodied empathy and reconciliation after atrocity ...

Pathways to embodied empathy andreconciliation after atrocity: Formerboy soldiers in a dance/movementtherapy group in Sierra Leone

David Alan Harris

A time limited dance/movement therapy group,

facilitated by adult males, provided creative

movement opportunities and other embodied

healing activities for adolescent orphans who, as

boys, had been involved in wartime atrocities.This

fusion of Western trauma treatment and ritual

proved transformative in helping the youths

overcome violent impulses and rediscover the

pleasure of collective endeavour. Engaging in

symbolic expression through attunement and

kinaesthetic empathy enabled the teenagers to

re£ect on their personal involvement in armed

con£ict in a way that encouraged enhanced

awareness of belonging to the broader humanity.

The intervention therefore fostered conditions

that led participants to create a public performance

highlighting their dual roles as both victims and

perpetrators in the war. This, in turn, advanced

their reconciliationwithin the local community.

Keywords: dance/movement therapy,empathy, reconciliation, Sierra Leone,counselling, war, ritual

IntroductionPost con£ict societies face serious challengesonthe path to reconciliation.This paper con-siders a particular psychosocial interventionsupporting reconciliation in a war-ravagedcommunity in rural Sierra Leone. Theintervention, a dance/movement therapy(DMT) group, incorporated activities for

restoring empathy among a small group offormer boy combatants as away of strength-ening their coping capacity and enhancingtheir wellbeing. Three skilled adult maleSierra Leoneanparaprofessional counsellorsand the author facilitated the group, whichran from March to September of 2006. Ofthe dozen youths involved in the intensiveinitiative, eight of them aged18, and the restranging from15 to 17, all had participated atanearlyage inatrocitieswiththeRevolution-ary United Front (RUF) rebels. However,only one had secured even limited supportafter the war through a Disarmament,Demobilisation and Reintegration (DDR)programme, and none had bene¢ted fromany prior psychosocial intervention.

Background to the dance/movement therapy interventionLocal colleagues from the Centre forVictimsof Torture (CVT) and the author organisedan intervention in Koindu, a town located inSierra Leone’s Kailahun District, just a fewkilometres from the point where the countryadjoins both Guinea and Liberia. The warhad broken out not far away on the Liberianborder in March 1991, and the district wasone of the last areas to be demobilised at theendof 2001.As a consequence, the district suf-fered some of the war’s harshest and mostenduring e¡ects. Once a thriving regional

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trade centre, Koindu in particular remainedphysically ravaged into late 2005, when clientidenti¢cation for the group began. Triggersto troubling memories were still presenteverywhere.Prior to the ¢rst DMTsession inMarch 2006,each of the 12 teenagers invited to join thegroup underwent an involved intake process,aswastrue forallCVTclients.The localcoun-sellors conducting this initial assessment, inthe youths’ mother tongue, recorded theirtraumatichistories, andaskeda series of ques-tions to gauge the extent of post traumaticpsychological and psychosocial problems, aswell as functional adaptations to those pro-blems. Responses were recorded on a ¢ve-point scale. Since the counsellors routinelyrepeated this psychological inventory postintake at one, three, six, and 12 monthintervals, CVTwas able to analyse the datacollected as part of a systematic approach toevaluating programmatic e¡ectiveness.

Description of sta¡As an accredited dance/movement therapistfrom the United States, the author workedwith CVT as a Clinician/Trainer in theKailahun District of Sierra Leone. In thispost, the author supervised up to two dozenpsychosocial counsellors, and introducedthem, and other mental health paraprofes-sionals in Sierra Leone and Liberia, to theapplication of DMTwith torture survivors.Three local CVT sta¡ in Koindu, theTraining Supervisor, Site Administrator,and another counsellor, joined the author inplanning and implementing the DMTgroupdescribed here for former child combatants.It is rare in DMT to utilize so many facilita-tors for a relatively small group.The decisionto do so in Kailahun’s counsellor trainingprogramme was to enable close monitoringof ‘on the job training.’ The three capable para-professionals also met in lengthy debrie¢ngs

with the author immediately followingeach group meeting as part of their clinicalsupervision. Mastering ways to encourageattunement and empathy through bodilyexpression was a pivotal learning objectivethroughout their training process.

Forms and functions of empathyin psychosocial healingThe learning of empathy for one’s formerenemies is widely understood as a necessarystep toward community reconciliation inthe aftermath of war. Dance therapy o¡ersunusual potential for advancing this criticalhealing process in innovative ways. Amongthe particular strengths of the DMTapproach is what dance therapists termkinaesthetic empathy. Empathy, broadly de¢ned,refers to an ability to feel another’s experi-ences, feelings, or thoughts, and as such ispivotal to a lot of psychotherapeutic practice.To have empathy for someone is tobe infusedwith an understanding of the other’s predo-minant existential concerns. The modi¢er,kinaesthetic, denotes that the path of empathicunderstanding comes not through languagealone, but also through the body, speci¢callyas stimulated through bodily movement.Examples of this common perceptualphenomenon in daily life include the sen-sationof beingalmost physically transportedupward when experiencing an athlete’s leap,or, of feelingas if we toowere tumblingdownwhenwe see a clown trip and fall. Anecdotalevidence indicates that this kind of empathicfeeling of another’s body movement is acommonexchangeamong persons invariouscultures globally, including in Sierra Leone.Dance therapists typically work to developpathways to kinaesthetic empathy as ameans of attuning and building therapeuticrelationships with clients through move-ment. This practice can be particularlye¡ective, even with survivors of torture

Pathways to embodied empathy and reconciliation after atrocity: Former boy soldiers in a dance/movement therapy

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whose experience of violence has broken notonly their bodies, but also their facility fortrust and making meaningful connectionswith others. From personal observation andpractice, theauthorhasdiscoveredthatwhenbody movement is incorporated into thecounselling sessions of African torture survi-vors in a way that enhances kinaestheticempathy,manysuchclients in factexperiencea revitalised sense of safety. In turn, theyengage more readily in trusting interactionswith peers and counsellors.Given empathy’s function in communityreconciliation after war, it is unsurprisingthat the restoration of the young former¢ghters’ collective aptitude for empathybecame paramount within our treatmentplan. The counsellors did not develop thisintervention from the outset with thisfocus in mind, however obvious it mightappear in retrospect. Although one of ourprincipal clinical objectives in the groupwas to promote enhanced peer interaction,our particular awareness of empathy’s cen-tral point within the recovery process grewduring the process. As facilitators, we sharedobservations with one another each weekregarding members’ behaviour, commentsand interactions, and gradually came torecognise the absence of a¡ect in clientdiscussions, in discussing even the mosthorri¢c atrocities. Only later did we see theemergence of nonverbal empathic expres-sion.We then began working deliberately toencourage it, both in movement and speech.In the detailed discussion below regardingthe planning and implementation of thisintervention, there is a special emphasisplaced on how participants signalled theirneed and capacity for empathy and reconci-liation, both nonverballyandthroughwords,to one another and to us. It alsobecame clearthat assistingparticipants to re£ect empathe-tically on their past experiences served as a

route towards overcoming theburden of postwar dehumanisation itself.

The structure and meaning ofritualRitualspropel socialcohesionandcanplayanimportant role in psychosocial interventionsthat address war a¡ected children every-where. This is especially true among groupcentred cultures of the developing world.Withincultures suchas those of Sierra Leone,where an essential unity of mind and body,cognition anda¡ect, is traditionally re£ectedin anunbrokenparticipationwith the naturalworld, body-oriented rituals a¡ord restor-ationandsocialreintegrationafterdisruption.Ritual performances and other cultural cus-toms provide participants opportunitiesthroughwhichto express or control emotions.Rituals also allow for intimate connectionwithin social groups. Ethnographers haveemphasised the transformative potential, inparticular,ofritualsrootedinthehumanbody.Describing initiation rites among Mozambi-can refugees in Malawi, Englund (1998)recordshowtheseactsentailthe fusionofbod-ily practices and spatial symbolism, whileavoiding verbalisation. He explains thatthrough the idiom of shaving, for instance,novices undergo real physical alterations andthereby‘enteranewphaseinthelifecycle’.Thatsuchrites are actual, immediate, physical enact-ments on the body proves to be of the utmostsigni¢cance to community cohesion.Throughout SierraLeone, including theKai-lahun District, ‘secret societies’ have used suchembodied acts of initiation to transfer to eachsuccessive generation the traditions, values,and obligations of local culture (Peddle,Moneiro, Guluma & Macaulay, 1999). Foryouths of both genders, these rites involveinitiation into the techniques, meanings, andmysteries of their people. Initiation includesordeals that amount to a rigorous testing,

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designed simultaneously to challenge andshape capacity for survival. Speaking about‘society’ experiences, particularly with outsi-ders, is taboo in Sierra Leone. As such, it wasnot a part of our group sessions. However, itwas apparent that in disrupting the eventsand traditions of daily life, the 11-year warhad kept these youths, and their generation,from participating in traditional initiatoryrites.Although there could be no authentic substi-tute for these ceremonies, it was the author’sdistinct impressionthatourgatherings sharedpivotal characteristics with secret societyinitiations, ananalysismy three localco-facil-itators con¢rmed. Together, counsellors andyouths constituted a small group of adult andteenage males, separated from the ordinaryspaces of village life. Engaged in ritualiseddancing, talking, and learning together; wemet with the concerted purpose of institutinglong term personal and collective trans-formation. It might amount to blasphemy toclaim that this small group possessed even anapproximation of the ancestors’ blessingneeded for traditional healing. Nonetheless,a vestige of the shape and purpose of theinitiation rituals that our participants missedmay well have extended to our gatherings,and helped deepen the transformativemeaning of the intervention for all partici-pants sharing in it.

Treatment objectivesDance/movement therapy group interven-tions may be organised in many ways.Facilitators for the DMTgroup with formerchild soldiers elected to combine openlyimprovisational dance to recordings ofSierra Leonean popular music with moreelaborately de¢ned physical exercises, eachchosen tohelpmeet aparticular psychosocialobjective. After formulating a list oftreatment objectives (Box 1), a nine-session

treatment planwas originallydevelopedthatdetailed when within the cycle to addresseach concern. The severity of the clients’psychosocial distress, however, necessitatedextending the treatment cycle signi¢cantly,and ultimately there were 10 sessions, fol-lowed by a12-week break, and an additionalsix meetings after the long break.

ResultsAs will be illustrated below, the facilitatorsfound that each of the formerboycombatantswas actively engaged in the DMTgroup. Atthe intervention’s end, each youth claimedpersonalprogressasa result.Anoverallatten-dance rate of 90% for the 16-session inter-vention is further indicationofmembers’highlevel of collective commitment to the process.In addition, their average self-reported rat-ings for symptoms of aggressive behaviour,depression, anxiety, intrusive recollectionsandelevated arousal all underwent continualreduction, from intake through ¢nal reassess-ment of the intervention. Ultimately, theintervention fostered conditions that led tothewarmwelcomingof 12 orphaned, teenagemale participants into a community that wassaid tohave stigmatised themas outlaws sincethe war’s end ¢ve years before. In ‘setting thestage’ for such an unusually fruitful develop-ment, this DMTgroup may stand as a proto-type for e¡orts to promote underage soldiers’meaningful reintegration, even years afterthe cessation of hostilities, as in this case.

Core activities of the dance/movement therapy groupThe following DMTgroup narrative tracesthe participants’ unusual transformation.Initially the youths were shunned by theircommunity, anddisplayedabaseline ofangerand dysfunction. By the intervention’s end,they had achieved an enhanced degree ofempowerment and reconciliationwithin that



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community.The pathway taken involved theyouths re-engaging human feeling and com-passion through joining in particular, ritua-lised movement-based activities that success-fully rekindled long dormant capacities forinteraction and empathic connection withothers.

Session 1: Group readiness fromthe outsetFrom the outset of the initial session, theproceedings were grounded in culturally

appropriate language and actions, whichincluded: introducing the 12 teenagers to oneanother, to the facilitators, and to the jointendeavourwewereallabout tobegin.Aswithvirtually any formal gathering in this part ofSierraLeone, thefacilitators startedbyaskingallpresent, seatedonmatsarranged inacircleon the £oor of a large room, how we ought tobegin the meeting. Invariably, membersreplied in the sameway:‘Bybringing the spirit ofGod into our midst.’After the required prayers,the KoinduTraining Supervisor, Omenga A.

Box 1: TREATMENT OBJECTIVESAdolescent Male (Former Boy Combatants) DMT GroupAs Defined in Advance of First Session in March 2006

1. To promote increased peer interaction.2. To foster a safe environment in which it is possible to rebuild dignity and trust, andwhereparticipantsmayaddress two simultaneous, if paradoxical needs: acceptanceand personal accountability.

3. To increase self-awareness.4. To enable physical discharge of aggression as away of reducing anxiety.5. To increase knowledge about the body and trauma, and to normalize posttraumatic and depressive symptoms.

6. To provide an opportunity for free play and the experience of pleasure in creativity.7. To create an environment where it is possible to imagine a better, morepositive future.

8. To allow clients to feel listened to, seen, and re£ected.9. To enable clients to relax their bodies and reintegrate body and mind throughexperiences of mindfulness.

10. To increase self-expression, speci¢cally regarding emotional problemsand traumatic histories.

11. To stimulate re£ection on the family system and losses associated with the family.12. To share skills for coping and connecting to reality regarding the statusof missing loved ones.

13. To encourage symbolic expression as away of integrating trauma.14. To provide skills in reducing hyper-arousal and the e¡ects of £ashbacks.15. To explore issues around risk taking behaviours.16. To teach skills for anger management and coping with di⁄cult emotions.17. To o¡er a context in which participants may discover the pleasure of beinghelpful to one another.

Added after Second Session:18. To stimulate re£ection on personal involvement in the events of armed con£ictin away that promotes clients’awareness of themselves as a part of humanity.

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Kormoh, thenbegan an orientation, explain-ing that everyone had come together in order‘to ¢nd pleasure in us.’ Using phrases that werepossiblynewtotheyouths, butwell inkeepingwith local ways of appreciating the world, heexplained that the body and mind need toworktogetherasone.Whenbodyandmindfailto work together, he informed the groupsimply, good health anda‘cool heart’ (meaningpeaceofmind)are impossible.Thefacilitatorshad organised this group and designed itsactivities with the awareness of suchbody^mind unity, he added, and would beencouraging free expression to help everyone¢nd ease, release anxiety, and relax. Namingthemethodtobe appliedas‘danceandmovementtherapy,’heupheldtheculturalvalueofdancingitself. He concluded by saying that DMTfurthers ‘mutual support’ within the group, anaim that re£ected local, core values.TheNameGame. Followingprayers,weopenedactivitiesduringthe¢rstsession,andeveryses-sion, with a simple movement ‘energiser’ thathighlighted cooperation over competitionamong the participants. Utilising a gamestructure, this basic activity typically enablesparticipants to learn one another’s namesreadily,whilealsobeginning toattune to eachother through sharedbody language.All members of the group begin by standing,forming a circle, and facing centre at acomfortable distance from one another.Several basic steps in the process ensue:1) An individual, Member A, who volun-teers or is selected for the role, starts o¡the activity by announcing to the group,‘Myname is ______,’while showinganactionorgesture of his choosing.

2) All members join in saying Member A’sname aloudwhile repeating the gesture.

3) The activity then moves progressively,one-by-one, around the circle. MemberB, besideMemberA, states his own namewhile showingamovement or gesture.

4) As when repeating Member A’s speechand action, all participants join now inrepeating those of Member B.

5) After repeating B, everyone repeatsA, and then B again, before startingwithMemberC.The repetitionofmove-ments and names for A, B, and C, insequence, precedes action by MemberD, and so on.

6) Thisaccumulatingpatternmeansthatastheactionproceedsaroundthecircle, thesequence of repetitions grows until afterthe lastpersonall namesandgestures arerepeated without pause.

7) After completing the entire circle, mostgroups seem to bene¢t from repeatingStep 6: the voicing of all names inunison,in combination with the performance ofall associated movements. Optional ins-tructions to perform this ¢nal repetitionas quickly as possible typically unleash atorrent of delight into the room. Alterna-tively, performing the sequence ‘in slowmotion’may enable an accentuation anddeepening of the emotional qualitiesinherent in the movements chosen fordisplay.

By all accounts, the Name Game provedexceptionally popular among CVT’s WestAfricanclientsandsta¡ofallages.Thegroup’scounsellors rejoiced in the exercise’s power tobuild interaction and bonding among theparticipants. It seems likely that the connec-tion among group members is facilitatedthrough the dual opportunities the gamea¡ords: to re£ect back others’ movements,and to experience the re£ection of one’s ownmovement by others.This reciprocal sharingconstitutes avery simple evocation of the ideaof kinaesthetic empathy, and its profoundcapacity for overcoming torture survivors’tendency to withdraw from connecting andinteracting with others.



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CircleDance. Following thegroup’sboisterousexplorationof theNameGame, the facilitatorsintroduced our core dancing activity, theCircleDance.Asan improvisational form, thisactivity lacks ¢xed rules or steps, and inpractice may defy description. A legacy ofwhat dance therapists call a Chacean Circle,our Circle Dance generally followed thestructure of: Warm-up, Development, andClosure, which dance therapy pioneerMarion Chace inaugurated in her ground-breaking therapeutic work with U.S. veter-ans of WorldWar II.As performed in the performed in the boy sol-diers’ group, the Circle Dance usually beganwith one of the facilitators turning on arecording of Sierra Leone popular music,invariably with a strong rhythmic beat, andusually chosen in consultation with partici-pants.With all members starting together inan inward-facing circle, the activity’s leadfacilitator would begin by gesturing withhisarmsandlegs, ormotioning inotherways.The leader relied on the music’s rhythm tocreate a physical warm-up of all parts of thebody. Further, signals were given to encou-rage an awareness of the group as a whole toawaken a potential for exploring collectivemovement.Our team applied a basic DMTassumptionthatadiverse rangeofmovementpossibilitiesis generally a signal of good mental health.Accordingly, the facilitator would often aimto introduce a wide array of movementdynamics and qualities within the dance’sinitial section, all performed with an aware-nessof thecollective’s capacity to engagewiththis shifting £ow of action. Memberswere largely open to this kind of indirectprocess, and almost invariably, a strongrhythmic synchrony would develop inresponse as participants joined in the simul-taneous re£ection of the leaders’movement,and in creating spontaneous variations of

their own. The contained release of aggres-sion, an inherently therapeutic by-productof the contraction and release of the body’smusculature during vigorous dancing,ampli¢ed theyoung participants’ investmentin their collective creativity. Facilitatorswould help participants deepen the processfurther by encouraging them; both verballyand nonverbally, to connect with oneanother, experiment with eye contact, andtake the opportunity for creative expressioncollectively and individually.In turn, the freedom o¡ered to any memberto assume leadership of the group at anymoment helped to begin the Circle Dance’sDevelopment phase, which incorporated allmanner of invention in terms of physicalactivities and spatial con¢gurations. Gener-ally, whether by deliberate intent or not,membersembracedtheoccasionto introducesymbolic content through their interactionsand bodily expression. Within this phase,the primary objective is to promote growththrough freely expressive play, that is, livelyengagement in creative bodily activityand intimate interaction for its own sake.Commonly, members of the group displayedstrong dedication to this form of imaginativeexpression in an energetic fashion. Theirexplorations echoed experiences andattitudes held in common, often includingthose associated with wartime aggression,which they played out at length.From the very ¢rst session, the group’sreadiness for symbolisation in movementwas strikingly apparent. With ‘leadership’ ofthe dancemoving£uidlybetween facilitatorsand teens, at one point everyonewas activelygesturing as if throwing something into thecentre of the circle. ‘What are we doing?’ theauthor asked aloud. Members respondedimmediately: ‘We’re throwing away our di⁄cul-ties.’ ‘We’re releasing our troubled hearts,’ theycalled out with exceptional self-awareness

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andgrouppurpose. After walking forawhileto thebeat, andthencrawlingaround inacir-cle, we collapsed onto the £oor. Many ofthe participants ended snuggled close besideoneanother.‘Whatarewedoingnow?’theauthorrepeated. One voice spoke for all, ‘We’rehiding from our enemies.’ Despite the relativequiet and gentle quality of the movementwe shared at that moment, some ¢ve yearsafter the war’s end, the image of hyper-vigi-lance emerged clearly. The stillness of lyingon the £oor after energetic, expressivemove-ment seemed to have induced a sharedmem-ory of wartime. Moments later, the groupwas up on their feet again and circling about,then throwing gestures resumed. With littleprompting, everyone began rushing fromonewindowordoor toanother inorder to castoutside their ‘poil heart,’as they explained theirdistress in the local dialect,Krio. Askedafter-wards, without interrupting the £ow of themovement, to converse using their hands,themembersvoluntarilyformedsmallgroups,making their hands‘speak’to eachother. Someoftheseconversations seemedextraordinarilyattentive, andmutuallya¡ectionate.A strongsenseofcalm,unityandintimacy, remarkablein the author’s experience for a ¢rst meeting,permeated the room.On this occasion, the group’s participantsmanaged to develop a coherent resolution totheir joint movement activities with littleprodding from the facilitators in terms ofverbal instruction or body language.Although perhaps in£uenced on occasionby the accompanying music’s structure, thistendency to bring a sense of ful¢lment orcompletion to the proceedings seemedalmost instinctive, as if manifesting a pro-found, unbroken interconnectedness innatewithin the participants’ holistic culture itself.Thus, often with the help of the leadfacilitator, participants would diminish theircollective physical intensity and gradually

follow a pathway to Closure. Frequently, as onthis occasion, group members would end upin virtual stillness in a circle once again,usually lying prone, with their heads lifted atthe centre and shoulders gently grazing thoseat either side. From this self-nurturing ‘spokesinawheelposition,’as the facilitators cameto callthegroup’s favouriteformation,playful laugh-terwould readilyarise, andcomfortable shar-ingamongpeersandcounsellorswascommoninbothwordandgesture.The Big Pot.While the Circle Dance generallyconcluded with a strong sense of internalclosure, terminating the session week afterweek was e¡ected through an activity wetermed, the Big Pot. In Sierra Leone, as inmuch ofWest Africa, meals are traditionallyshared from a large common cooking pot,particularlyonceremonial occasions. In suchcontexts, the social aspects of the gatheringare acknowledged to be as nourishing as thedishes consumed. With awareness of theimplications for community development in-herent in this custom, the consortium hostingCVT’s programme in the Kailahun Districttook the name, NaWi Pot, meaning, It’s OurPot, in Krio. The consortium title alluded toan implied local belief in the integral connec-tionbetween the tradition of the sharedmealand communal empowerment. The author,in deliberately appropriating the metaphoricsigni¢cance of that image, created the Big Potexercise as a culturally relevant medium forparticipants in DMT interventions to gainsimilar sustenance by sharing collectivegrowth and insights from their group experi-ences.The steps involved in the activity were simpleand few. Towards the conclusion of the ¢rstsession, a facilitator explained that as theend for the gathering was approaching wewished to re£ect back onwhat we had joinedin over the past two or three hours together.The leaderwouldthenmimeplacingan ima-



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ginary black pot in the middle of the circleformed by the clients, and perhaps demon-strate such other pertinent actions, such astending to an unseen ¢re below the pot. Hewould explain that the groupwould be mak-ing an imaginary soup tobe shared, and thateach individual member of the group shouldthink of something learned or experiencedduring the day’s activities that he would liketo place into the pot. Any type of ingredientcould be chosen, but the counsellors com-monly asked participants to consider addingsomething that they would bene¢t from tak-ing with them on leaving the day’s session;something that might nourish their peersand themselves until the next meeting. Oneby one, participants would then sprinkle ordrop some make-believe item into the soup.Invariably, they would name the ingredientduring theprocess, althoughaimingtodispelpotential anxiety factors, facilitators madeit clear that such naming was optional.Ultimately, this ritualised action broughtclosure to every DMT group session con-ducted inSierraLeone.Facilitatorswoulduti-lise the symbolism of the pot in various ways,according to the ebb and £ow of the sessionbeing closed. In early sessions, we mightsimply call for items to be added that wouldenrichthe soup.Later,as inthe formercomba-tants’sixth session, we asked speci¢cally whatclients had gained from the process so far. Infurther sessions, participants would ¢ll thepot with future hopes, thoughts on skillslearned for coping, and the journey from thepainful past into a desired future. In the ¢rstsession, the teens all placed foodstu¡s in thepot; palmoil, salt, or ¢sh.Nodoubt a signthattheir stomachshungered for these ingredientsin a real soup. By the second session, though,the abstractions of unity, shared con¢dences,and peace-of-mind (‘cool heart’) had replacedsuch literal contributions, and ‘cool heart’wasput in the stew in every session thereafter.

Session 2: Family statues beforeand after the warThe group as a whole had proved so wellequipped in the initial meeting to deal withsymbolic representations through the bodythat the facilitators were comfortable intro-ducing our Family Statues exercise during thesecond session, following that day’s NameGame and Circle Dance activities.Numerous approaches are possible forenabling counselling group participants torepresent their wartime experiences throughcreative, nonverbal, expressive arts activities.In working with children a¡ected by war, itis especially important to o¡er opportunitiesforsymbolisingnotonlyloss,butthememoriesand experiences that may serve as wells ofpotential strength and resilience. Certainly,thechild’s foremostprotective resource, parti-cularly in cultures like those of Sierra Leonewherekinshipbondsareextendedwellbeyonda nuclear core, is contained in the strengthand traditions of the family of origin.This exercise o¡ers children the opportunityto‘sculpt’a statue of their own families as theywere prior to the war. Including themselveswithin the sculpture further allows thesechildren to experience aphysical reminder oftheir attachment to this elemental source ofbelonging. The author derived the exercisefrom a common device in Western familytherapy(Duhl,Kantor&Duhl,1973),inwhichfamily members take turns physically posi-tioning one another into three-dimensionalpictures, as a way of revealing perceptions ofrelational bonds. Similarly, in our DMTgroupsinSierraLeone,volunteerparticipantswouldarrangeasmallgroupoftheirpeers intoan image of their own pre-war familiesengaged in a joint activity. We explained attheoutsetthatthevolunteerswouldafterwardbe called on to depict the family at present,after the war’s end. Neither dialogue, normovement, was permitted in the statue’s

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presentation before the rest of the group.This requirement provided the young ‘artists’an enhanced degree of aesthetic distance,meant to shield them from engulfment inbereavement over familial loss, a form ofdistress this embodiment might potentiallyevoke.Usually, as with the boy soldiers, participantsbeganbydepictingan idealised image of theirharmonious early home life, featuring mostoften the preparation andeating of a commu-nalmealbesideanoutdoorhearth. In fashion-ing this ¢rst statue, and identifying their ownplace within it, the youths thus enjoyed achance to reconstitute in their imaginationsome of the lost warmth of family nurture.Afterwards, theydevised the secondportrait,thatofthepresentday family, totheextentthatithadsurvived.Mostoftheyoungparticipantsin CVT’s groups had been orphaned duringthe war, as was the case with all the formerboy combatants. Invariably stark di¡erenceswereinevidencebetweenthepre-warandpostwar con¢gurations. In each pairing, today’sfamily proved to have a smaller number ofmembers than hadbeenpresent in the familybefore con£ict. In most cases in the post warsculptures, the teenager himself remainedalone, living on the street. Ordinarily, hewould station his peers depictingother familymembers face down on the £oor as if dead, orhide them from view, as if among the unac-counted missing. While verbalisation aboutthe process was optional, most participantschosetosharestorieswithinthegroupexplain-ing, in as much detail as they desired, whathad led to the di¡erences in shape betweenthe ¢rst and second images of their family.Typically, between CVT’s child andadolescent survivors, the sculpting activityyielded valuable information about the cli-ents’ current living situation. Often this waspaired with clients’ signi¢cant emotionalrelease, in particular the sharing of sadness

or anger over the family’s demise. This inturn, commonly, led to peers bonding withone another as survivors of similar grief.Whilemostchildrenweworkedwith inSierraLeone found strength by sharing emotionswith one another in such contexts, among theteenage males that constituted the formercombatants’ group, this sort of sharing wasinitially absent. Instead, a restraint fromemotional disclosure was found to be stan-dard. The paraprofessional counsellors whoco-facilitated the group found the youths’incongruent a¡ect troubling. The totalabsence of emotion in the clients’ discussionof their involvement in violent abuses wasparticularly disconcerting. The TrainingSupervisor observed a direct associationbetweentheboysoldiers’participationinatro-cities and their blank a¡ect. He noted thataftermutilating,raping,andkilling,underage¢ghters were commonly encouraged to cele-bratetheiractswithlaughter,singing,andeve-n dance.These practices cultivated desensiti-sation as a way of purging personal guilt. Nodoubt, RUFo⁄cers, like those commandingunderagetroops incon£icts aroundtheglobe,wouldhave orderedtheyouths tojoin inotherritualised acts as well. This was designed tonormalise violence and di¡use the moralburden that the culture would otherwiseimpose on perpetrators (Wessels, 2006;Honwana, 2006). As a consequence, blankstares and psychic numbing typi¢ed much ofour early time together. In subsequent weeks(during the third, fourth and ¢fth sessions),however, decreasing inhibition in the groupled to more direct expression through wordsand symbolic actions of what turned out tobe a deeply internalised rage.Ultimately, thisintervention’s success involvedboth the unco-vering of this rage (which left alone wouldhave presented a serious if not latent threat tocommunity welfare) and the developmentof tools for the youths to cope with these



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powerfully suppressed anxieties and controlotherwise dangerous impulses.

Three sessions with role playPublic performances of drama are common-place in Sierra Leone, where role play is awidespread means of transmitting usefulinformationwithinandamongcommunities.School children, for instance, routinely pro-duce dramatisations in order to publicisematters of public health and other collectiveconcerns. Government line ministries andnon-governmental organizations (NGOs)both work to promote attitudinal or beha-vioural change through role play, and evensponsor tournaments at which variousgroups compete. As a result, young clientsin our Sierra Leonean DMT interventionsparticipated readily when o¡ered the oppor-tunity to create role playdramaswithin theirgroup meetings. The former combatants inparticular insisted on spending a signi¢cantamount of time enacting their role playsduring three of their sessions within the ¢rst10-week phase, and months later proposedstaging a role play as a public performanceto share their remorse and desire forcommunity reintegration.Sharing worst moments. After dividing ournumber into two subgroups of six youths andtwoadults1each,we sought volunteers ineachsubgrouptosharestoriesoftheworstmomentsin their wartime experiences. These narra-tives, the facilitators explained, would bedramatised under direction of the youthat the story’s heart. Appropriately, thisvolunteer would assign others of thesubgroup to portray the characters in theenactment, ¢rst picking the person to playhimself, and then ¢lling the remaining roles.As director, he alsohadpower to dictatewhatwas to be said and acted out by each person.After thus shaping the drama in rehearsal,he was to watch its performance, joining

the in-session audience which comprised theeight persons in the other subgroup, andparticipate afterward in a post performancedialogue.The facilitator team deemed the debrie¢ngsthat followed these dramas critical to theyouths’ recovery process. In each case,counsellors led a discussion, beginningwithaquestiontotheactorportrayingthepro-tagonist, the central character. We simplyasked how it had felt to play this peer duringwartime. After eliciting a response, we askedother actors how it had felt to enact the partsthey had played, usually an assortment ofvictims and perpetrators of violence. Theseroles tended to trigger awareness of sim-ilarities in their own histories. We alwayso¡ered the director a chance to ask questionsof the personwho had played him during therole play. Often, we concluded by asking theperson who had played the protagonist ifhe had anything to say directly to the peerwhom he haddepicted.This exchange between the ‘author’ of thestoryandtheactorwhomhewatchedplayinghis ownpartwe consideredespecially signi¢-cant. This was also true, and perhaps evenmore signi¢cant, in groups whose membershad not engaged in violence, but instead hadsurvivedabuses andwhose families hadbeenvictimised. In such cases, the actor oftenshared words that enabled the director torealise thathe or shehadnotbeen responsiblefor the acts that had befallen the family.One such instance occurred during a sta¡

training workshop. After watching a role play and

listening to a peer’s commentary on how he had felt

paralysed by fear, an experienced counsellor shared

a valuable insight. He announced that for the ¢rst

time he accepted that he could not have stopped the

murder of his mother, which had taken place before

his own eyes as a teenager. Only in seeing the events

unfold before him again, did he appreciate that he

had been powerless to protect his loved ones, and that

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he ought to no longer live with shame and guilt about

that powerlessness.

During the war in Sierra Leone, such attackson the undefendedwere commonplace terrortactics, designedto overwhelmthe oppositionnot only by in£icting horri¢c injury anddeath, but also through the numbing andpsychological paralysis of entire populations.Undoubtedly, thousands of people who wit-nessed brutal assaults on family members,similar tothatexperiencedbyCVT’scounsel-lor were, like him, left feeling responsible forfailing to prevent these acts, and left thereforeindisablingdistress. Inparticular,manychildsurvivors of such scenarios, lacking the cogni-tive strength to comprehend their lackof con-trol over what happened around them, wereleft vulnerable to similar pain. Role playo¡ered these children an e¡ective means ofreframing their experience, both by seeingpeers re-enact their painful histories andthenhavingtimededicatedtointegratethesepeers’empathic statements about those terribleevents.Dealingwith threats to resume violence.Thegroupshared, not only its ¢rst £eeting expressionsof a need for reconciliation, but also itscontrary emotions: ongoing hopelessness,fury and a thirst for vengeance. Some of theearly evidence for an abiding and continuingconnectiontotheviolentpastarose inthe roleplays’ depiction of random acts of sexualviolence. One member volunteered openly,for example, that; ‘We learned to rape during thewar.’ While a peer rationalised that refusingto rape would have meant certain death atthe hands of comrades in arms, there was aclear message that these youths consideredrape their prerogative, and several spoke ofit as if an ongoing entitlement. Also, duringthis period, one of the former ¢ghtersappeared in a session overtly enraged aboutan exchange a few days prior with a localo⁄cial who may have denigrated him for

his part in the war while forcing him to payabicycle license fee. Considering the incidentan intolerable case of corruption (akin tothe injustices that had sparked the rebels’revolution), the youth outlined in detailwithin the meeting his retaliatory plan to¢rebomb the man’s house, and kill all inside.He boasted of having learned, while withthe rebels, how to make a ‘local bomb’. Thiswas a capacity we did not doubt.Theyouths’threatstoresumeviolenceagainstthe community presented the counsellingteam with a troubling ethical dilemma:how to continue to maintain unconditionalpositive regard (Rogers,1957) for our clients,while upholding the greater good of thecommunity and such fundamental humanrights as the sanctity of life. Our method wasto suspend judgment, to avoid denouncingviolence, or any other behaviour, either ofthe past or the future. Further, to engage theclients indiscussions andmovement activitiesthrough which they could process theiraggressive impulses themselves, verbally andnonverbally. For example, in the course of theprolonged andcircuitous group deliberationsthat ensued in regard to the proposedbombing, more than once the author askedtheyouth inquestionwhat hadkept him fromacting violently so far? Initially he ignoredthe question; he appeared to not even hear it.Eventually, on examining his deterrentshowever, he acknowledged that he did notwant to‘start the waragain’andwould abandonthe plan. The counselling team took thisas su⁄cient assurance that violence was notimminent, andwas therefore able to avoid anunauthorised disclosure of the con¢dentialinformation shared2.Beyond o¡ering occasions for talking outsuch problems, the opportunity to engage insymbolic action within the Circle Dance mayhave been equally important in di¡usingviolent impulses and helping clients gain



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control over them. One action that theyouths, as a collective, repeated week afterweek may be interpreted as a manifestationof the classic, ubiquitous group desire toassert autonomy by symbolically ‘killing o¡’the leader (Yalom,1970). Speci¢cally, at somepoint in the course of our improvisationalmovement, all of the teens would worktogether in play to grab one of the author’slegs and pin it to the £oor, or immobilise mesimilarly by holding one or both of my handsdown, so that despite my large size and mus-cular build, it was not possible to move.In team debrie¢ngs, the author sought thelocal counsellors’ opinions on the meaningbehind this graphic physical image of immo-bilizing the leader.We determined that, likemost symbols rich in meaning, this oneendorsed simultaneous interpretations. Firstof all, the youths wanted to immobilise me inparticular because, as a dance therapist, mygreatest strengthwas manifest in an unusualcapacity to move freely. Disempowering mein this way perhaps was also revenge againstme for my role in directing the youths’deliberate re-examinationofwartimeevents,an often painful activity. At the same time,holding me down replicated the common¢ghter’s action of capturing an enemy, andas suchwas a formof symbolic re-enactment.It might also have represented a suppresseddesire from their time as boy ¢ghters todisable their own commanders, whoseleadership had in£icted so much physicaland emotional hardship on them. Beyondthis, in using their hands to hold down mineon the £oor, they unknowingly produced avisual picture reminiscent of a pile of ampu-tated arms; a frightening, intrusive image ofsplayed limbs that might have stayed withmany of them, like a recurrent nightmare,since their years in combat squads in whichthey repeatedly had witnessed, or joined in,committing amputations.

Notwithstandingthesereadingsof theyouths’repeatedsymbolicbehaviour,atthesametimethe act of immobilising me, as their counsel-ling group leader, reconstituted horri¢cimages of the war, and perhaps through therepetitions of rough play made thememoriesincreasingly tolerable. Also, it surelyrepresented an aggressive response to theyouths’fearofabandonmentbyacaringadult.As the author grew in signi¢cance to them,they literally ¢xed me in place in a symbolice¡orttokeepmefromvanishingthewayothersupportive adults in their lives had disap-peared.Our counselling team sought to com-prehendwhatmotivatedthese formercomba-tants to share this lack of inhibition soovertly, throughboth language and symbolicaction.The therapeutic process was challen-ging the youths, not only because it called onthemto reframe their terrible past as away ofmoving more peacefully into the future, butalso because it o¡ered them unconditionalpositive regard and playful a¡ection for per-haps the ¢rst time since the loss of their ownloving families.We thought it likely that therelease of inhibitions constituted a prelimi-nary indication of group progress: a sign ofgrowing trust and a restored sense of safety.At the same time, while the clients had cometo feel free within the sessions to boast aboutsexual assault and other forms of violence,doing sowasnodoubtmeanttomakeus (facil-itators) uncomfortable. Angry outbursts andviolent fantasies functioned as a counterba-lancetothevulnerability to feelingsofnurtur-ance and intimacy that participants werebeginning touncover inconnectionwithbothfacilitators and peers. Confused over theirshifting status, and how to cope with it, theydefended themselves by vigorously testingthe limits of our tolerance and acceptance ofthemasvaluedpersons.Engaginginacreativeform of reality testing, they played out anddanced their way through a collective need

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to con¢rmthemerit in trusting these newlea-ders. In spite of their proven courage in com-bat, they still neededassurance that sheddingdefences and opening up within the groupwouldnotdestroy them,butwouldhealthem.Emerging empathy. Wartime histories of con-quering feelingsofa¡ectionandvulnerabilitythrough violence remained. However, alsoimages of empathic connection began toemerge within the group as well, mostmarkedly in the ¢fthweekly session’s dramas.In virtually all cultures, the task of acting apart, regardless of the style in question,demands a degree of cognitive or a¡ectiveengagement with the character’s situationand feelings. In the former combatant group,the¢rst strong indicationofempathyemergedin just such aperformance context.One client, who in a role play rehearsal had been

assigned the role of a nursing mother with a baby at

her breast, showed a clear expression of agony on his

face when the imaginary baby was ripped away

and slain by a peer portraying a rebel ¢ghter.This

depiction of anguish, which continued during the

ensuing oblique representation of the young woman’s

rape and murder by the same soldier, amounted to

an utter transformation of the face of a 17-year-old

male who, before that time, had displayed virtually

no emotion whatsoever within the group.

Of the utmost importance to our process, hisevocation of su¡ering, even though acted,amounted to the group’s ¢rst indication of acapacity to feel empathy for a victim, and awillingness to share that feeling openly.Thefacilitatorsdidnotneedtodrawspecialatten-tion to this profound contribution to thegroup’shealingprocess inorder for it torever-berate with unspoken seriousness acrossthe room.Indeed, in discussing what it had been like totake on the various parts that their peers hadassigned them, the clients themselves verba-lised concerns that animated the group’sradical redirection from remorselessness to

empathy. One client told his peer that he had‘su¡eredalot’whenplayingthiscolleague’spart.As if to dilute the seriousness of his comment,he then made a joke that his peer should payhim for taking on such su¡ering. Everyonelaughed at this, and to the quip ¢red backrapidly in response, which played with thenotion of acknowledging the impact of abusessu¡eredbyallthepeers:‘Iwouldpayyouifthecom-manders had paid me for ¢ghting. But they didn’t pay

me,andsoIwon’tpayyou.’Afterhissuccessatenter-taining uswith his wit, this same youth spokeearnestlyofhowithadfeltwatchingtheenact-ment of his own story, saying that hewas‘sorryfor the innocent civilians; they didn’t do anything to

me, but I killed them anyway.’Later, the youngestmemberofthegroup,havingplayeda‘smallsol-dier,’ explained that his character had beenkilled for no reason other than that he had‘feltsympathy’ for another victim. Asked by theauthor whether killings during the war hadtakenplaceonsuchlimitedgrounds,theyouthresponded that it ‘happened all the time’, a state-mentemphaticallyendorsedbyseveralothers.The facilitators then expressed empathy withparticipants for having endured hiding feel-ingsof ‘sympathy’forvictimstoavoidfallingvic-timthemselves.Weacknowledgedthat surviv-ing in that environment meant submergingfeelings, including compassion, deep inside.We also shared the idea that, perhaps, restor-ing connection with others may be linked tothe process of relearninghow to express thosefeelings of ‘sympathy’appropriately.Revenge and reconciliation. It would be an exag-geration at best to suggest that these fewexamples of empathetic expression implieda swift and permanent shift in the ethos ofthe group. On the contrary, the pivotalstruggle between the forces toward suppres-sing feelings associated with witnessing andparticipating in all manner of atrocities,andthat towarddisclosing such feelings, con-tinued. By the seventh session, this central



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con£ict arose in heated explorations of therelative value of revenge and reconciliation.Vengeance entered the group’s thematicdevelopment, both overtly in continuingdiscussionof theroleplays, andmorecovertlythrough the dynamics of participant inter-actions. For example, on occasion membersutilised the convention of questioning oneanother after the role play presentations, aconvention that also replicated a commonlocal village practice of communitydelibera-tions, in decidedly provocative ways.Whenseeing a peer whose story had been enactedbegin involuntarily toreveal sadnessthroughhis facial expression, another confrontedhim: ‘What would you do if you saw your parents’killers?’Others joined in this line of interrog-ation, as if advancing a group conspiracy toundermine any expression of sorrow. Threeof the 11members present raised their handsto demonstrate that they preferred wartimetothepresentday,aswhen¢ghting, theywereable to secure revenge for the wrongdoingsin£icted upon their villages and families. Itwas apparent that the three preferringa timewhen vengeance remained potentially intheir own hands, sought through theirvigorous questioning to persuade the partici-pant who had begun to show the pain of lossand remorse that doing so was unnecessary,and could be successfully avoided throughfantasies of revenge. Other participantscountered these arguments, however, withone member pointedly advocating a moreconciliatory approach; ‘This is peacetime; wedon’t need revenge.’

A similar confrontation later in the samediscussiongaverisetoanexplorationthatepit-omised a growing capacity within the groupto embrace the courage to examine the past,despite its horrors. One youth asked another,whose storyhadjustbeenperformed,whetherhe had done the right thing in leaving his

parents’ corpses without proper burial. Thisquestion itself functioned as a voice of shameover the failure to ensure the performance offuneral rites crucial within the culture thatnot only this member, but most in the groupand the community at large, would have hadgreatdi⁄cultyundercircumstances of relent-less threat, enacting for their lost loved ones.Evincingastoicavoidanceofangryexpressionin a response that was decidedly not an evoca-tion of numbing, the youth questioned, whohad been eight years of age at the time of hisparents’ murder, answered with clarity andquiet strength;‘I did the best I could.’He went onto say that, havingavengedhisparents’deathsmade him feel successful and added; ‘Theywould bless me forwhat Idid.’Asked if he hadanyquestions to ask of the people who hadplayedparts in the drama, the youth turned to theauthor, whom he had cast in the role of hisfather,andaskedhowtheauthorhadfeltwhenabout to be shot.‘I was terribly afraid,’ I whis-pered, neither mu¥ing nor exaggerating theemotion. The youth then turned to a secondfacilitator who had portrayed his mother,and asked what it had been like to be told tosay goodbye to her husband, before the assai-lants had killed her too.‘I felt as if I was deadalready,’mycolleaguesaidwithaquietcertaintythat stilled the room. Motionless, the youthlistened to these responses, and a respectfulsilence a⁄rmed that grieving would now beaccommodated within the group. In raisingthe questions regarding his parents’ su¡eringtomeandmyco-facilitator,questionsthisado-lescent had no doubt been carrying with himfor more than half his life, he bravely intro-duced reality andgenuine emotion intowhat,until that point, had been a confrontationaland sti£ingly resistant discussion. As such, heallbutbecamethecollective’svoiceofcourageand its willingness tomourn, to examine andpotentially resolve, the pain of the past.

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Session 8: A struggle betweenmockery and sincerityExpressing how we feel right now. Given mount-ing evidence that the group was prepared todeal authentically with histories of loss anddestruction, andwith interpersonal relation-ships among members, the team of facilita-tors decided to launch activities that mightheighten this growing potential. Speci¢cally,we decided to introduce new variations onthe Name Game, an activity that remainedespecially popular with the group’s partici-pants. At this point, the group had alreadyengaged invariants of thegamethat involvednot only merely sharing an action or gesture,as in the version performed on the ¢rst day,but showing a‘check-in’gesture or action thatwould express; ‘how we are feeling right now,’or,‘what we remember from our last session together.’Alreadycomfortableadjusting to this changeof content while maintaining the game’sessential repetitive structure, group mem-bers seemedpreparedtohandleanewassign-ment; to identify through a gesture andwordor phrase a feeling experienced personally,either in the recent past, or during the war.As the group completed this exercise andthe others that followed, a struggle arosebetween sincerityandmockery.Mostpartici-pants in this activity were quick to identifyand name the troubling undercurrents thathadbegun coming to surface in recent groupmeetings.Therefore, in the day’s ¢rst contri-bution, one youth crossed his arms looselyover his chest and said the word for ‘sad.’Another placed a hand on his face, coveringit in part, and stated clearly; ‘I cry.’ Gesturesof discouragement and deep thoughtemerged, and the ¢nal peer staggered slowlyinto the circle’s centre, with his arms hangingloosely, saying simply; ‘I remember.’ From theoutset, the group created an environment inwhich the sharing of sorrow over pastlosses would be possible, though di⁄cult.

Countering this, two of the youths seemeddetermined not to take the exercise seriously,and spoke of feeling happy, as if working toavoid being brought into the display ofgenuine feeling and the intimacy that suchsharing could bring the collective.The struggle whether to embrace intimacy,or to mock it, continued through the nextexercise, which had also appropriated theName Game structure. We asked the partici-pants to take amoment in silence to recollectthe role plays enacted in previous weeksregarding members’ ‘bitter experiences’ duringthe war. After this, each person was to sharea word, while using the body to express hisinnermost feelings associatedwith those dra-mas. Immediately, thegroup’snatural leader,who had instigated the aggressive question-ing of peers the previous week, crouched ina position familiar at local funeral obser-vances, while repeating his word from the¢rst round: ‘discouraged.’As the person to hisright, the author came next in the process.Taking the hands of the participants on theright and left, andthus reinforcing the circle’ssense of containment as all present linkedhands, the author said thatwhenconsideringthe group’s sharing of its experiences, theauthor thoughtof ‘support.’Anothercounsellorreinforced the notionof ‘togetherness’bydraw-ing us into a tighter circle. A youth adoptedthe particular posture within the culture ofsomeonemourninga lost lovedone;‘bad think-ing.’ Then, the youth beside him, the sameone who had introduced so much dignityand courage into our gathering the previousweek, put one hand over his own heart andthe other gently on a neighbour’s chest, overhis heart, and calmly uttered the word for‘encouragement.’After thepeer tohis right spokeof sadness, the next motioned as if takinghis own heart from his chest, and giving itto another, and declared; ‘give cool heart.’These two interactive contributions may be



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considered emblematic of the group’s coreactivity, not solely in terms of facilitators’intentions, but also of the participants’own unspoken aims for regaining a capacityfor intimacy and deep sharing among them-selves.Givenmembers’profoundly painful historiesand ongoing vulnerability, the groupremained nonetheless unready, as yet, todedicate itself fully to this level of sincerity.In a paradigmatic moment, illustrating thecontrary urge within the group to doubt ordisparage the seriousness of this mission,one of the youths opted not to touch the heartof the peer to his side with gentle ‘encourage-ment,’ but to slap the peer’s chest instead.Thisrough mockery provoked laughter (but nofurther violent play) all around, therebyshattering for a moment the solemnity ofthe occasion, and calling into question thegroup’s willingness to venture further inthe direction of bonding through the sinceresharing of authentic re£ection. Participants,nonetheless, quickly returned from thiscomic diversion to the expression of genuinefeelings, and engaged actively in a particu-larly inventive Circle Dance exploration. Bythe end of the session, when the author askedeach member to place in the Big Pot anactivity importanttohispersonalcopingthatwe hadengaged in over the course of the ¢rsteight gatherings, the youthwho had slappedhis neighbour chose to share ¢rst. Whenhavinga‘poil heart,’ he stated, hewouldgo¢ndfriends from the group and if music wereavailablewoulddanceuntil‘workingupasweat.’In this obliqueway, themember of the groupmost de¢antly representing the voice ofmockery was able to communicate withconsiderable earnestness his own need forconnection with his peers, and speci¢callythrough dance. In the counsellors’debrie¢ngthat followed, we concluded that even forthe participantmost stronglyassociatedwith

suppressing his own and others’ feelings, theintervention was making a di¡erence in hisdaily coping. We had clear indication herethat our collective sincerity was gainingascendance over mockery.Mirroring. Before terminating this eighthsession through the Big Pot, the counsellorsintroduced amirroring activity. Mirroring isperhapstheactionmost illustrativeofphysicalattunement among people, and may beparticularly conducive to the development ofkinaesthetic empathy. The Mirror on theWallexercise, which we brought into the group, isa basic duet practice for encouraging atten-tiveness and intimate interaction. Pairs ofindividuals, preferably of similar height, areasked to face each other, about ametre apart.One member of the duo is to begin moving,and simultaneously the other is to re£ectbacka mirrored image of the movement. Facilita-tors explain that the object of the game is tokeeptheimageasexactare£ectionaspossible,and that bothmembers need to cooperate forsuccess. After one person leads for a while,the pairs switch roles so that the other maylead. Once the pairs become comfortablewith this process, they are encouraged to trymaintaining a perfectly re£ective imagewithneither of the members leading and neitherfollowing.Surprisingly, discussion of the mirroringactivity in the session prompted consider-ation of the idea of su¡ering, and as suchproved pivotal within the course of thegroup’s progression towards restoredempathetic connection. When asked by acounsellor to share any feelings associatedwith their degree of success at maintainingan intact mirror image, even when therewas no de¢ned leader, there was praise fortheexerciseallaround.Oneyouthrespondedthat hewas remindedof the feelingof sharingwith a friend, in understanding the other,even when overcome by problems. His

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contribution implied a faith that sharingsorrow may a¡ord a close connectionbetween peers.This same member, who hadeagerlypairedwiththeauthor intheexercise,had seemed throughout the mirroring tobe thoroughly engaged and attuned, com-plained aloud, however, that sometimesleaders can cause their followers to su¡er. Inresponse to the follow-up question whetherit had proved di⁄cult for him to performany part of the activity, he o¡ered that doingthe ‘American style’ movement of his partnerhad sometimes challenged him. Quietlytaken o¡ guard by the young man’s analysis,particularly since he had appeared toreplicate my own stretching gestures withease, the author began to consider thesymbolic signi¢cance of what he had voicedon the group’s behalf about the di⁄culty lea-ders couldcause.Theparticipantswereaskedas a collective if they had ever experienceda leader who had made them su¡er. Mem-bers then openly shared stories about thecommanders who had led their rebel squads.Theauthor followedup, inturn,withanopenquestion. Alluding to the fact that some ofthe group participants had shown in the roleplays how they themselves had served asrebel leaders at various times, it was asked ifany of the members had ever caused othersto su¡er. One former young commandosharedhis experience of enforcingacommonphysical punishment, equivalent to painfullydi⁄cult callisthenics, on a group of captives.Two other peers spoke of abuses they hadinitiated when serving as class leaders inschool. It is instructive, that while none of theparticipants thus acknowledged involvementin combat atrocities at this point, the historyof the youths’ engagement in causing othersto su¡er entered the group at this juncture.That is, immediately following the directedexperience of attunement and kinaestheticempathy through themirroring activity.

Session 9: Examining su¡eringthrough kinaesthetic empathySu¡ering endured. Given the former ¢ghters’evident willingness to begin engagingempathetically with one another in thepresent, and with regard to re£ections ontheir wartime past, the counselling teamworked more deliberately to create a safeenvironment in which the group mightgrapple with matters of compassion andremorse. Therefore, during the followingsession, the ninth of 10 during the interven-tion’s Phase I, we introduced a linked trio ofnew activities.The ¢rst two of these followeda Name Game structure, thereby providing afamiliar framework in which to engage in adeepening process of kinaesthetic empathy.We began by reminding participants howmembershad spokenout inthepriormeetingabout their experience of su¡ering at thehands of leaders. After citing speci¢cs froma couple of those examples, we asked allpresent to take a moment to think quietlyabout their own similar histories of su¡ering.The participants then consented to performa task of sharing through a gesture ormovementhowtheyhadfeltatthetimeaboutsu¡ering under someone. Although verbali-sation was optional, none of the youths (andamong the facilitators, only the author)avoided use of words to supplement theaction.The results were direct, and thought-fully performed, with clear attention givento the evocation of feeling through realisticphysical detail.The ¢rst youth, for example,whipped his arms vigorously in the air andspoke of beating.The next said the word for‘crying’as he crouched down and covered hisface with his hands. A third used forceful,quick gestures as he mimed the opening ofdoors withboth hands, then apowerful pushthrough them, indicating his experience ofbeing thrown ‘in prison.’ In similar fashioneach of the members illustrated an aspect of



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hiswartime experiences.Withthe conclusionof the circle,we repeatedall the actions againvery slowly. By taking ample time to embodythe su¡ering shared by each member of thegroup, and physically re£ecting it back tothe circle, each youth had an opportunity tobear momentarily the emotional weight ofall his peers’ experiences. The reciprocityinherent in kinaesthetic empathy and themutual support growingamong participantsin turn, opened the way for further, moredemanding investigations of the meaningand consequences of enforced su¡ering.Su¡ering in£icted. After performing images ofsu¡ering endured at the hands of another, weturned to a similar exploration of su¡eringin£ictedbymembers of the group.Highlight-ingthechallengetoengageempathicallywithvictims, this taskwas de¢ned in terms of illus-trating through a movement or gesture ‘howothersfeltaboutsu¡eringwein£icted.’Weeksearlierduringtheroleplaypractice(discussedabove)certaingroupmembershadconvincinglyper-soni¢edtheanguishofindividualtargetsofvio-lence.Thistaskpressedtheexperienceofempa-thya step further, in that eachmember was toembody the feelings of people he himselfhad victimised. A facilitator explained thatalthough the counsellors may not have beeninvolved in the war’s violence, all of us hadcaused su¡eringat some time inour lives, andwe would also participate actively, as we didinvirtuallyeveryexercise.Overall, the images created, this time insilence, were startlingly vivid. They seemedless like the emanation of participants’ imagi-nations than unembellished re-enactmentsdrawn from exacting memories. The ¢rstyouth pushed his arms out, exaggerating thestrength and tension held in the musculaturetotheextentthatheshookvisibly,as if seethingwith anger. A second mimed the wiping oftears from his eyes with his index ¢ngers.Others demonstrated gestures speci¢c to the

culture, as in crouching down with head inhands, a local sign of grief, or £icking a handat the side of his head as if dispelling from hismind some horri¢c thought, which wasanother local gesture. Hopping on one footsuggested the aftermath of amputatinga foot,as falling to the £oor didacollapseafterbeingshotdead.Thelastyouthwalkedforwardwithhis elbows meeting behind his back, as if tiedthere in a position known in Sierra Leone as‘chicken tabay,’often in£icted in torture.The third and ¢nal exercise in this seriesmoved beyond imitating the realistic detailof wartime events to appraising them froma vantage point of peacetime ¢ve years later.We called on participants to symbolisethrough movement their feelings about thesu¡ering they had in£icted, both at the timethey were involved in the violence and,retrospectively in the present moment.Deliberately maintaining a neutral toneand avoiding value-laden language thatmight indirectly in£uence the proceedingsby, for instance, inculcating the idea ofremorse, we introduced the exercise askingthat members of the group take a momentto think about how they felt when perpetrat-ing the acts portrayed in the prior activity.We then directed the participants to performtwo separateactionsorgestures, one immedi-ately after the other.The ¢rst gesture was tore£ect feelings at the time of committingthe acts in question, and the second was tore£ect their current feelings about them. Asit seemed that not everyone fully understoodthe instructions, we asked someone todemonstrate. The member who volunteeredwas the same youth who had previouslydeployed an aggressive line of questioningto support his assertion that wartime wasbetter thantodaybecause of the direct accessthen to means of revenge. In demonstratingthe exercise, this youth ¢rst displayed acommon U.S.-derived rap music gesture,

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his arms £ickering rapidly upward withshoulders hunched forward, that hinted atanexcited sense ofmachograti¢cation.Aftera pause he then altered his posture entirely,collapsing his torso, narrowing his stanceand shaking his head slowly while gazingdownward. Asked for a verbal explanationof this pairof choices, he reportedthatduringthe war he had felt happy when ordered tokill because he was quite capable ofaccomplishing the task. Today, though, heclaimed to be feeling ‘sorry’ for ‘what [he] didto those people.’ The facilitators commendedthe participant for his success at illustratingthe instructions so precisely, then asked thegroup to decide if it preferred utilising therepeating Name Game structure, or a simplerformat in which everyone on the circle’speriphery simultaneously mirrored move-ments performed by a solitary actor at thecentre. On recommendation by the youthwhohadjust demonstrated,members agreedto adopt the simpler mirroring structure.The counsellors’ praise for this youth’sperformance may well have inadvertentlyreinforced an otherwise unspoken messagethat similar expressions of regret wouldbe appropriate, for in every case participantsdisclosed remorse. All but one of the youthsshowed images of perpetration of wartimeabuses, and some members utilised gesturesthat underscored the heavy burden suchparticipation had caused them. For example,one youthused his own handas a sharpbladeto slit a victim’s throat, and in his illustrationthe neck he sliced was in fact his own. In asingle gesture, he thus represented the actionofkillingothersand(unawares,nodoubt)thatof killing himself. Another client hadperformed the identical gestureweeksbefore,and a second version, in which the youth inquestion ‘amputated’ an ear from his ownhead and then forced a nearby peer to canni-balise it, appeared upon revisiting this same

exercise in Phase II, three months later. Theduality involved in thus metaphoricallyslitting one’s own throat or cutting o¡ one’sown body part in representing victimisationsuggests that feelings of guilt over themurderand mutilation of others had imposed analmost suicidal penalty. Moreover, this self-destructive aspect proved as powerfullyembodied within the group as the intendeddepiction of the self as perpetrator. Collec-tively, these images thus functioned asemblemsoftheyouths’dual statusasperpetra-tors andvictims simultaneously.Although group members may not havechosen to evoke either remorse or awarenessof the longer term self-destructive implica-tions of their involvement in atrocities, itwas evident that they had begun to feel thecommonality between their victims andthemselves. As indication of this growingrecognition, facilitated here by empathicinvestment in our specially conceivedsymbolic embodiments, the same youthwho ‘sliced’ his throat summarised themeaning of the exercise in the post activitydebrie¢ng. During the war, he explained, ina declaration that established a functionalequivalence between ‘we’/perpetrators and‘they’/victims: ‘They killed our parents,’ and ‘Wekilled others’ parents.’ At the time, he and hispeers had felt good about their revenge, buttoday they have come to feel ‘sorry’ for it. Apeer spoke uptoput their wartime transgres-sions into context, saying that the comman-dos hadorderedthemtokill, and,‘Ifwe refused,we would face the same music.’ This statementalso characterised the thin line betweenperpetrator and victim status. Indeed, con-fusion over these dual roles began weighingheavily. In a brief break after this discussion,the youth who had weeks earlier announcedplans to ¢rebomb a local household, andwho in this last exercise had just expressedthe joy he had experienced when actually



222

launching incendiarydevices during thewar,was seen curled on the £oor with tears in hiseyes:‘Someofusdon’t evenknowifwewillgotoheav-en,’ he told me then, clearly overcome by thedilemmaof¢ndingapathtoredemptionafterso much violence.As disturbingas itmayhavebeentoacknowl-edgethetruthof their involvement inmakingpeople su¡er, the youths found a renewedempathy for one another and themselves inthe process. Demonstrating newfoundself-awareness, they allowed feelings ofsorrow to emerge. Although uncertain ofthe utilityof remorse, theybegantoverbalisetheir concerns in relation to core religiousbeliefs. Not only did the question of theafterlife arise, but for the ¢rst time the wordforgiveness entered the group’s vocabulary, asthe last contribution of that session’s BigPot closure, following: peace, cool heart, encour-agement, unity, honesty, con¢dentiality, happiness,

joy, hope, and obedience. Considering thesedevelopments during our post sessiondebrie¢ng, the counselling team con¢rmedthat weeks earlier when adding a treatmentobjective to stimulate re£ection on wartimematters in a way that promoted clientappreciation of their place in humanity, wehad no vision of what form this mighttake in actuality. During this ninth session,however, we hadwitnessed the youthsbreak-ing through old barriers and beginning tomove toward reconciliation both with theircommunity, and with their own spiritualvalues. A fundamental sense of belongingand a culturally proscribed connection toothers had begun to materialise.

Session 10: Closing o¡ Phase ICounsellors chose to handle the tenth and¢nal session of Phase I as an occasion forgroup closure, particularly since a 12-weekbreak would ensue before Phase II. Besidesmaintaining the expected rituals of our

gatherings:welcomeandprayers,NameGame,Circle Dance, Big Pot, and refreshments, wealso inaugurated three exercises.The ¢rst ofthese, an activity we called Hovering Hands,fostered a deepening awareness not only ofsu¡ering, but also of the collective’s capacityto e¡ect renewal through mutual support.Thetwoother newactivities occasionedeachmember’s verbal review of the collective’sprogress and ongoing needs, as well assharing the feelings about the group’stemporary disruption and strategies forcoping with its absence in the interim.Like most of our group activities, HoveringHandswasperformed inacircle,withpartici-pants facing centre and standing. One byone, it was explained, each member wouldwalk into the circle, then directly approachthe peer who had been standing alongsidehim on the right. When reaching apointaboutametre fromthepeer, thepartici-pant at the centre would make eye contact,and address this peer directly by name,asking, ‘[Name], when you remember your bitterexperiences during the war, where in your body do

youfeelpain?’Thepersoncalledonwouldthenanswer directly to the questioner, describingthe relevant distress and simultaneouslytouching himself in the pained area. As therespondent touched the a¡ected body part,all the other members standing in the circlewould touch that same place on their ownbody.Next, theperson standingat the centre,that is, the questioner, approached closer totheperson sharinghis somaticpain.Bringingboth his hands close to the body part indi-catedby the peer, the questioner thenquietlyheld them for several seconds hovering overthe a¡ected area. There was a moment’sstillness upon completion of the action,followed by the two participants exchangingplaces. The person who had just shared hispain headed to the centre of the circle, andthen in turn approached the next member

David Alan Harris

223

to the right. Repeating this interactiveprocess to the full completion of thecircle both reinforced the group’s growingmutuality, and infused our proceedings withthe holistic culture’s essential, healing unity.Upon completing the circuit, we ampli¢edthe quality of attuned synchronisation byrepeating the sequence of motions, slowlyand methodically. So, one by one, from ¢rstto last, we repeated in silence the entiresuccessionof gestures associatedwithpartici-pants’ su¡ering in the war. For the most partthis was performed with quiet solemnity,and this ¢nal passage through the circledeepened the group’s shared experience ofbodily empathy. Indeed, participants’ calmattentiveness to one another’s indications ofpersonal su¡ering, particularly as manifestin this ¢nal ceremonial repetition, attestedpoignantly to the enhanced connectionamong the combatant group’s members thathadarisenby this tenth sessionof their collec-tive healing process. Counsellors conductingHovering Hands remarked that the exercise’sritual-like quality, and the direct interactionintegral to it, allowed group participants toshare with one another with a degree ofintimacy and harmony rarely seen in inter-ventions where nonverbal communicationhas been less purposefully established.

Evaluating Phase I and makingplans for Phase IIThis ¢nal session before three monthswithout meeting consolidated the group’sprogress in terms of a restored capacity forempathy and the sharing of genuine feeling.However, it leftunresolvedthecriticalmatterof participant reintegration into the com-munity.While this issue headed facilitators’list of concerns to be addressed in Phase II,we lacked a speci¢c plan for doing so. Inaddition,wefearedthatmemberswouldhavedi⁄culty returning in August, in the midst

of the rainy season, and during the schoolbreak when youths typically sought work onlocal farms.Nonetheless, therewas hope thatour promise to investigate what hadhappened at the war’s end to preventthese former ¢ghters from bene¢ting fromthe DDR programme would provideincentive to return, in addition to members’owndemonstratedwilltojointogetheragain.Ultimately, the group displayed remarkablecommitment. Attendance at only one of thelast six gatherings fell below11of the group’sdozen members.In formulating our agenda for Phase II, thecounselling team decided to place as muchresponsibility as possible in the hands ofthe members themselves. Explaining this onreconvening, we proposed opening afterprayerswithadiscussionof the group’s collec-tive history and its future aims.Then, follow-ing the newly empowered participants’ leadin negotiatinga newhour for the start of theirsessions,we listed¢vebasicquestions for themto consideras a collective:Whatdoyou rememberfrom the ¢rst 10 sessions?What did you ¢nd helpful?

What would you like us to continue? What was not

helpful?What dowe need to achieve before ourgroup

closes in amonth’s time?

Members agreed that the intervention hado¡ered support and encouragement, in thatthey had learned to share with friends aboutdi⁄culties faced. Some remarked on areduction of anger and aggressive actingout, aswell as adecrease in sleep disturbance.While ‘playing’and ‘dancing’were highlighted,a consensus emerged that the group wouldlike to continue all exercises.Virtually everyactivity was thus recalled and described,and there was total silence when memberswere asked to name what had not beenhelpful. Certainly, the most unexpectedresponse toanyquestioncame fromtheyouthwho in the initial phase had both displayedthe most powerful rage in detailing a plan



224

to ¢rebomb a family compound, and latershowed the most overt sense of remorse,when, with tearful eyes he had raised doubtsabout a future in heaven. This young mansuggested that what the group needed toachieve before its ¢nal termination was thepublic performance of a role play in thecommunity to depict ‘what we did in the war.’Once his peers had gained assurance thatsuch a dramatisation would not violate thegroup’s commitment to con¢dentiality, andas long as every member agreed with thepublic sharing, they adopted his proposalunanimously and began to consider how torealise it. Eager to con¢rm that everyone inthe group was bene¢ting from the sameunderstandings, the author asked the grouppointedly if members nowwanted to identifythemselves before the public as ‘former childsoldiers.’Once this was con¢rmed, the authorquestioned the clients’ reasons for wantingto expose themselves in this way; ‘What doyou expect from the community?’ One youth thenexplained that in demonstrating theirinvolvement in the war, they wanted thecommunitymembers ‘to accept us.’ The propo-sal’s original proponent added the notion offorgiveness, and stated that showing the publichow the former combatants had beenorphaned during the war would leadthe community ‘to accept us as their children.’Agreeing with this, the group later alsoadopted the complementary notion: ‘We willaccept them as our mothers and fathers.’

Preparing a meeting with thecommunityAlthough the Phase I sessions had lastedbetween two and three hours, in succeedingweeksthegroupoptedtolimititselftotwohourmeetings, with one hour dedicated in each topreparationsof thepublicperformance. It justsohappenedthatCVThadalreadyscheduleda Community Cultural Healing Event for

theeveningof thedateplanned for thegroup’slast session, and the dramatisation provedeasily accommodated within the gathering’sagenda. Members opted to hold an all-after-noon rehearsal during their slated meetingtime on that date, and to add a ¢nal sessionthe following afternoon, as the author hadrequestedthe opportunity for us to sharewithoneanotheras agroupafter theperformance.Preparationswentsmoothly, forthemostpart,andthe facilitatorshelpedtheyouthsorganisetheir task, often stimulating clarity of expres-sion through questions about the desiredmessage to be shared with the public. Inresponse to one such query, the same youthwhom we counsellors had considered thegroup’s‘voiceofmockery’duringPhaseI,wasableto devise a succinct statement of what thedramaneeded to show;‘Howwewere forced to dothings.Howwewerepunished.Andthenhowwepun-

ished others.’ This thematic framework perhapsreiterated the structure of the exercise, per-formed again in Phase II, which had elicitedclients’ images of how they had su¡ered, andhow theyhadmade others su¡er under them.Anadditionalproposal,likewiseadopted,thatthe drama incorporate a post war scene inwhichtheyouthsvisit the localchief, acknowl-edge their crimes to him, and ask to bewelcomed back into the community, camedirectly fromtheclients andhadnoprototypeinexercises initiatedbythe facilitating team.Beyondthe seriousnesswithwhichthe formercombatant youths approached the creationof their dramatic representation, theydemonstrated growth in other ways thatenhanced their prospects for success inreconciling with, and reintegrating into, theKoindu community. The author asked theyouths, for example, if it would be appropri-ate for them to approach local authoritiesand to invite them to speak at the healingevent, after their enactment. Followingextensive and thoughtful deliberations, the

David Alan Harris

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youths determined that two among themwould join a pair of counsellors in visits tospeci¢c community leaders whom the groupas a whole wanted present at the gathering.Moreover, the grounded maturity demon-strated in this approach to dealing withlocal hierarchies was matched in the group’seven more impressive capacity to toleratedisappointment.Among the dozen members of the group, allof whom our sta¡ interviewed in depth inresponse to their consensus request thatCVT investigate their failure to bene¢t fromthe DDR programme, eight had complaintswe determined potentially justi¢ed withregard to the same implementing NGO.Two of the counsellors and the authormanaged to secure a meeting at the districtheadquarters with the very representativeof this international agency whom severalof the youths had cited as having promisedbene¢ts years earlier that neither he nor hissta¡ ever delivered. At the counsellors’request, this Project O⁄cer generouslytravelled the twohours over bumpy unpavedroads to Koindu in order to meet withmembers of the group outside of our usualsessiontime. Inpreparation, our sta¡workedwith the eight youthswhomwe invited to thisgathering, based on their own histories, andempowered them to develop a writtenagenda for the meeting and to determineamong themselves how to facilitate it.Despite the anger each of them had longexpressed over missing out on DDR assist-ance, the youths conducted the meeting in amanner that ‘deeply impressed’ the worker whohad come to meet them.We had advised themembers in advance to behave in away thatwould allow them to feel good about them-selves after themeeting’s conclusion, regard-less of its outcome. Ultimately, when theinternational NGO o⁄cer communicated acoherent explanation for each member’s

failure to secure bene¢ts, they all toleratedthis disappointment well, and controlledtheir impulses toward anger. Immediatelyfollowing the consultation, in fact, one ofthe youths expressed relief, telling me thathe would no longer have to worry aboutsomething that had troubled him for years.In our group debrie¢ng several days later,others expressed similar opinions. Impor-tantly, the youths were able to conclude; ‘Werespected him, and he respected us.’Somemembersopenly expressed pride in themselves, andthis the counsellors reinforced withunfeigned enthusiasm.At the community healing event a few weekslater, which some 300 local people of all agesattended, the former boy combatants’dramariveted audience attention, and preparedtheway for theyouths’ritual returnto societyas meaningfully altered human beings. Thegroup’s 25-minute role play began with adirect address to the community, asking foracceptance and reiterating the plea to betaken‘as your children.’ The youths, all wearingnewT-shirtsadornedwiththeirchosenname,PoimboiVeeyahKoindu, orOrphan Boys of Koinduin the Kissi language, performed a swiftsuccession of scenes. First came the agony ofthe protagonist’s forced recruitment into therebel ranks. Captured amidst an assault ona family compound, he was made to ¢rebullets into the corpses of his very own fatherand sister. Next, there were scenes in whichthe new inductee himself joined in seriousabuses against other captives. In the end,after the war, the boy returned to his villageto secure the forgiveness of a group of localchiefs. At the play’s conclusion the youthsleda songaboutpeace, andthenallwasquiet.Rising out of the stillness that met thisbrutallyhonestdepictionof theactors’experi-ences as victims and perpetrators, one localauthority and then another rose to welcomethe teenagers back into the heart of the



226

Koindu community. After the Section Chiefspoke, there were remarks by the YouthChairman andYouth Chairlady, the head ofthe local Sierra Leone Police, and others.The youths, asked to foreswear taking uparms against people ever again, so promisedon the spot. Community members wereclearly trans¢xed by the experience, andsome remarked to sta¡ that they had neverbefore appreciated how the boy soldiers,whose excessive violence they had feared,had themselves su¡ered during the war.The youths, having learned to embrace andembody empathy for their victims, had inturn opened the way to empathy for them-selves. Empowered to guide the course oftheir own therapeutic process, groupmembers had found a way to use the newlymastered power of bodily symbolism as avehicle for enhancing their prospects forlasting reconciliation.

The ¢nal sessionThe ¢nal gathering of the DMTgroup tookplace the next afternoon, and was anoccasion for celebrating the momentousprogress experienced in the previous ¢vemonths, while acknowledging authenticfeelings of sorrowover unavoidable farewells.Members expressed particular pride in theirperformance before the people of Koindu.Focusing on the mutual respect present intheir interaction with the community, oneparticipant echoed the statement made afterthe meeting with the NGO Project O⁄cer,saying that the local audience listened to thegroup, and ‘we listened to them’ in return. Anumber of members reiterated their promisenot to resume violent ways, and one linkedthis pledge with the community’s agreementtoaccept the group of orphans as its children.Thus, fears of being shunned by thecommunity gave way to talk of forgiveness,and to hope that the group’s members might

continue to work together, joining withothers for the goodof Koindu’s development.‘We know ourselves as brothers now,’ said oneyouth, pointing to the strength of the groupto aid individual members in need. Inkeeping with this awareness of groupcohesiveness, in the ¢nal session’s CircleDancecommunal intimacy fully trumped self-expression. Performed throughout from aseated position, the dancing proved playful,spirited, and extremely uni¢ed as no onewanted to venture away from this lastopportunity to move in unison with thegroup as a whole, and in the closest possiblephysical proximity to all its members. Inthe discussion that followed regardingself-assessments of progress and thoughts ofthe future, most of the youths mentionedgrowth intheirability to sharetheirproblemswith others and a reduction in tendencies toisolate themselves. While fears of beingparentless remained, several pointed to arestored con¢dence to control angryimpulses and cope with di⁄cult situations.After everyone had had an opportunity tomake a farewell statement to the groupthrough movement and words, the Big Potallowed each member to articulate whatfrom the group experience he aimed totake forward with him after termination:‘something that others might bene¢t from keepingin their lives too.’ Client responses rangedfrom a focus on the weekly post sessionrefreshments they had relished, to that onthe truly transformational aspects of thecollective experience. Listed here in theorder o¡ered, the following, ¢nal collectionof words may well encapsulate the range ofsacred and mundane achievements thatthis DMT intervention fostered among aremarkable group of a dozen former childsoldiers, empowered by it to move togetherfrom a status of impulsively enragedloners to mutually attuned, empathic,

David Alan Harris

227

Table1.

Session#

Datein2006

Attendance

Activities

PHASEI

Session1

12Introductionof

purpose

&activities

Establishmentof

groundrules

NameGame&

NameGame

ascheck-in

Circledance

Closure:the

BigPot

6March

Session2

10NameGame

NameGame

ascheck-in

NameGame

asrecap

Circledance

Familysculptures

before&after

thewar

Pushinghard

against

theball

Relaxation

Closure

13March

Session3

12NameGame

NameGameas

check-in

NameGame

asrecap

Psycho-education

onthebody

andtrauma

‘Drawing’on

thebody

Progressive

Muscular

Relaxation

Lengthy

discussion

Closure

20March

Session4

11NameGameas

check-in

NameGameas

recap

Verbalrecapand

ventingdiscussion

Bigball,risk-taking

andrisk

management

Circledance

Closure:the

BigPot

27March

Session5

12NameGameas

check-in

Circledance

Grounding

exercise

Role-play

Closure:the

BigPot

3April

Session6

10Groupconsent

forDDR

advocacy

NameGameasrecap

&discussion

Role-play

Squeezeball

exercise

Circledance

Closure:the

BigPot

10April



228

Session7

11NameGameas

check-in

Circledance

NameGame

asrecap

Role-play&

discussion

Futurehopes

&Closure

24April

Session8

8NameGameas

check-in

NameGame

asrecap

Circledance

Mirroron

theWall

Psycho-education

ontrauma,

isolation,

reconnection&

coping

Closure:the

BigPot

1May

Session9

11Recapdiscussion

NameGame

ascheck-in

Circledance

Mirrorinthe

Middle

Su¡eringunder

someone;

Closure:the

BigPot

Otherssu¡ering

underus;

Howwefeltthen

&feelnow

abouthaving

causedsu¡ering

8May

Session10

11NameGame

asrecap

Hovering

Hands

Circledance

Videoportraits

Progressivemuscular

relaxation

Goodbye

exercise;

Closure:the

BigPot

15May

BREAK

PHASEII

Session1

11Welcomeback

NameGameas

check-in

Circledance

Reviewofthe

process

Closure:the

BigPot

7August

Session2

11Gesturecheck-in

without

repetitions

Circledance

Su¡eringunder

someone;

Otherssu¡ering

underus;

Howwefeltthen&

feelnowabout

havingcaused

su¡ering

Discussion

aboutrole-play

performance

Closure:the

BigPot

(continuedoverleaf)

David Alan Harris

229

Session#

Datein2006

Attendance

Activities

14August

15August

8outof8

Strategyandagenda-

planningonDDR

Discussionwith

representative

fromINGO

Session3

8NameGame

asrecap

Reviewof

15Augustmeeting

Planning&

rehearsalof

role-play

Closure:the

BigPot

21August

Session4

12NameGameas

check-in;

NameGame

asrecap

Circledance

Rehearsalof

role-play

Closure:the

BigPot

28August

Session5

12Finalrole-play

rehearsal

(afternoon)

Role-playperformanceat

CommunityHealing

Event(evening)

4Sept.

Session6

12Check-in

Circledance

Discussionofrole-

playperformance

atCommunity

HealingEvent

Self-assessments

ofprogress;

thoughtsofthe

future

Formalfarewells

Closure:the

BigPot

5Sept.

Certi¢cates

Refreshments

FinalCircledance

Lastfarewells

Table1.(continued)



230

hopeful youngadultswith a newfound senseof communal belonging:Unity, con¢dentiality, obedience, cool heart, faith,

punctuality, advice, love, togetherness, love, exercise,

forgiveness, bread, remorse (sorrow), dance.

ConclusionThe success of thisuncommonly re-humanis-ing process for former childcombatants chal-lenges widely held views regarding optionsavailable for rehabilitationand reintegratione¡orts. As Lindsay Stark (2006) has eluci-dated, there exist two primary, competingmodels forhumanitarian responses tohumandistress resulting from complex emergenciesindevelopingcountries: one, based inuniver-salising Western biomedical diagnoses andthe treatment of ‘trauma’; and the other,grounded in local, culturally-in£ectedunderstandings of su¡ering and healing.Although largely antithetical to one another,these two paradigms may yet be usefullyfused in the developing world.

ReferencesDuhl, F. J. Kantor, D. &Duhl, B. S. (1973). Learn-

ing, space, andaction in family therapy: Apri-

mer of sculpture. In: D. A. Bloch (Ed.),

Techniques of family psychotherapy: A primer. New

York: Grune & Stratton.

Englund, H. (1998). Death, trauma and ritual:

Mozambican refugees inMalawi. Social Science

andMedicine, 46(9),1165-1174.

Harris, D. A. (2007). Dance/movement therapy

approachesto fosteringresilienceandrecovery

among African adolescent torture survivors.

Torture:Journal onRehabilitation ofTortureVictims

and Prevention ofTorture, 17(2),134-155.

Honwana, A. (2006). Child soldiers in Africa. Phila-

delphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.

Peddle,N.,Moneiro,C.,Guluma,V.,&Macaulay,

T. E. A. (1999).Trauma, loss, and resilience in

Africa: A psychosocial community based

approach to culturally sensitive healing. In:

K. Nader & N. Dubrow (Eds.), Honoring di¡er-

ences: Cultural issues in the treatment of trauma and

loss (121-149). Philadelphia: Brunner/Mazel,

Inc.

Rogers, C. R. (1957).The necessary and su⁄cient

conditions of therapeutic personality change.

Journal of Consulting Psychology, 21(2), 95-103.

Stark, L. (2006). Cleansing thewounds of war: An

examination of traditional healing, psychoso-

cial health and reintegration in Sierra Leone.

Intervention:The International Journal of Mental

Health, PsychosocialWork and Counselling in Areas

of Armed Con£ict, 4(3), 206-218.

Wessels,M. (2006).Child soldiers:Fromviolence topro-

tection. Cambridge MA: Harvard University

Press.

Yalom, I.D. (1970).Thetheoryandpracticeofgrouppsy-

chotherapy. NewYork: Basic Books.

1 Having counsellors involved in each dramatisa-

tion meant they were prepared to monitor out-

breaks of severe distress that might materialise,

but did not do so, during this challenging process.

2 Counsellors did speak soon after this to the o⁄-

cial in question, though in general terms, urging

him to consider adopting more diplomatic tones

in future dealingswith the community’smany for-

mer ¢ghters.

David Alan Harris, MA, ADTR, LCAT, is a

member of the Academy of Dance Therapists

Registered, and NewYork State licenses him as

a Licensed Creative Arts Therapist. E-mail:

[email protected]

David Alan Harris

231

mailto:[email protected]

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