I was wondering ‘what about everyone in this room’? What is the practice wisdom and lived experience right here? There wasn’t even time to talk to the people at the table, never mind in the rest of the room. There were quiet rooms that nobody used because there was no space in the timetable and breaks that were barely enough time to down some caffeine and heed the call of nature; both very important.

What I had forgotten, and which wasn’t offered, was a reminder that I don’t need permission to take care of what I need, that is something that is within my power. When I’m sitting in a room where no one is moving, can I leave? Can I go to a room for quiet space if everyone is in a workshop? Am I just a brain downloading information or am I a body in relationship with itself and others and responsible for tending to my needs?

I am yet to experience what I imagine in my brain, body, nervous system, to be a trauma-informed conference. What I experienced at the Restraint Reduction Network Conference this year was close though, and unexpected because yes, we were all sitting around tableclothed tables (although there was dinner and dancing) and didn’t have much time to talk to one another, and yet, something felt different.

On the first day I recognised something different in the texture of the event, there were lots of signs to me that difference is included here. Lots of invitations to listen to what I need. I also noticed that it was a community, one that I didn’t know I was already part of, and that it was a community of people from many different backgrounds with different experiences all brought together by a motivation to do no harm. People who have spent their careers or their lives highlighting the power of listening, the impact of safe and trusting relationships and creating cultures where care doesn’t hurt.

Being there for the first time, and alone, I was lucky to meet some amazing people, and make new friends who shared their insights, their stories (you know who you are, we’re friends on LinkedIn now) and what amazing work/activism they are part of to change our cultures of care. I was in good company.

I think what I felt invited into most deeply was to listen, to listen to those sharing sometimes very deeply personal experiences, to listen to what I needed, to listen to the voices of people who have been harmed by our systems; all I can say is thank you for your honesty and your courage.

I listened to Alexis Quinn and all I could think about for the rest of the conference was that what we need to get (to really get) is to deeply understand why it’s so hard to be with someone else in their distress without shutting ourselves down, or shutting them down.

If you’ve worked or are working in Social Care, or Education or Health then you will undoubtedly have been in the situation where you have supported someone in distress, because humans suffer, we all do at times. I recognised that we talk about regulation like it’s the state we should privilege over all others, but if you’ve been oppressed or harmed by the people or systems that should have protected you then your anger, your hurt, your sadness is only natural. How can we all be safe places for each other to feel what is being felt?

The phrase ‘restraint reduction’ didn’t communicate much to me at first. It felt like a slightly clinical phrase devoid of feeling. After my experience at the conference it now contains for me activists, and mums fighting for justice for their children, and the tears I cried while I listened, and my work as a teacher and the love I felt for my pupils, and my colleagues at CALM and our passion, and the work of relentless researchers seeking understanding, and my wise new conference friend who fiercely protects those her organisation supports. Care shouldn’t hurt and it was a privilege to meet so many people who are making sure that it doesn’t. I’m grateful to be part of the community.“