Service User Led Training
This is part of a talk I gave on Service User Led
Training at a NIMHE 'Bring & Share Fayre'. I was doing it as
part of a group called PLUS+ (Positive+Learning+Understanding+Support)
- a group of service users who use their experiences of mental distress
to inform and educate 'proffesionals' and assorted others about
how it feels to be us. The group has been running for a few years,
and this talk was intended to take some of the main issues i've
encountered and explore them a little.
Empowerment. PLUS+, to me, is about empowerment
and our journey towards it. This journey isn’t always smooth
sailing as the waters are relatively uncharted, at least on a personal
level. This is the case for the users, aswell as any support staff
involved in the project. As a user of the mental health service
I’m much more used to being a passive recipient of care, of
having decisions made for me, and feeling deficient, crazy and otherwise
out of control. It comes down to me being a patient, and those treating
me being the ‘experts’ (I was as guilty of holding that
view as any of the workers I met). Add to the mix the fact that
I’m not in my ‘right mind’ and really am crazy,
then you can understand why I’m often not taken as the best
witness to my own mental health state. Lack of insight, anyone?
Now I’m in a position where my experiences
of mental health are not seen as a deficit, or a problem –
they are actually the reason people are sitting down and listening
to me. It’s a topsy turvy world, and everything I previously
accepted is being turned on it’s head. People are taking me
seriously, hell – you are taking me seriously. That’s
gonna take a bit of time to get used to, for all of us.
Assumptions. We’re full of them, all of us.
Without making assumptions and quick judgements we wouldn’t
be able to function. If we had to puzzle everything out, and take
every scrap of information on it’s own merit life would be
one long migraine. Many of the ones we hold, though, need a bit
of an upgrade. Even the most socially aware and politically correct
of us need a reality check every now and then.
Some of the most common ones centre around our
pre-conceived idea of each other. Services users are all on benefits,
they don’t work. Nurses don’t understand and don’t
want to understand. She’s not a ‘real’ schizophrenic.
Doctors aren’t going to listen to me, so why should I even
bother? She’s not representative, she’s the exception
rather than the rule. She’s too ill to give training, it’ll
just upset her too much. Service users are fragile and need to be
protected. I need to organise, to support and to take the reigns
– otherwise nothing will get done, and everything will fall
apart.
While some of the time these beliefs are true,
there are many times when they’re not. We need to treat each
other with respect and be prepared to challenge our ideas and the
status quo. Try asking what people feel comfortable with taking
on, what they need from you and enable them to find out for themselves
what they are capable of. We need to be able to make our own decisions
and take our own risks. It’s a basic right, and one that many
of us haven’t had much chance to exercise in our dealings
with the mental health system. It involves a new way of working,
and one that doesn’t come with an instruction manual.
Communication. This, I believe, is THE most important
part. To work effectively it has to be two way, honest and respectful.
I’ll forgive a lot of oversights, assumptions and mix ups
if I have a good relationship with the workers involved. I need
to see them as humans, as individuals with strengths and weaknesses
and I need to feel that they see me too. No one’s perfect
– not even us service users. So the ability to talk to each
other openly is what saves us from getting disillusioned and dropping
out of the project all together.
It takes time to build up this level of trust.
I’ve been involved with PLUS+ for about a year, and it’s
only in the last few months that I’ve really felt comfortable
with it. Initially I found it difficult to speak my mind in the
meetings, and I can still feel hesitant because it’s not something
I’m used to. What has made a difference, I think, is seeing
the workers and other group members out of the boxes they are in
– maybe chatting after the meetings, getting a lift in with
one of the workers, going to the pub for someone’s birthday,
or just talking about things other than mental health. It is these
interactions which have broken down the lines that I’d become
used to – and enabled me to take myself out of the patient
role and into the one of service user trainer.
In conclusion, then. Service user training is an
exciting and essential development in mental health education –
for professionals, users, carers and the wider public. Like the
others have already said, who better to explain mental distress
than those who live it, breathe it and are (in one way or other)
surviving it? It has the power to break down stereotypes, and has
an impact way beyond other more academic methods. It’s about
real people and real life experiences. There are many positives
gained from such training, but there are still many barriers and
pitfalls that have a nasty habit of getting in the way. I firmly
believe, though, that it’s well worth the ride and that as
our collective experience grows the pit falls will be more easily
avoided. Personally, I’m looking forward to the time when
service user training is the norm and not the innovation.
Rachel Waddingham © 2003 |