About Banana

​​I've been in recovery for over 11 years now, and one of the biggest things I've learnt along the way is that the things that bring me closest to relapse, breakdown or generally wanting to escape from my own life are often connected to relationships  especially when I'm struggling to have a healthy relationship with myself. I learnt how to have relationships from my family, which consists of alcoholics, love addicts, gamblers and other forms of dyfsunction. I didn't have a chance. But I've always had creativity in my life, although I didn't always understand what it was doing for me. When I was little, creativity was my escape. I recreated musicals in my bedroom, wrote plays for my puppets and spun around recklessly to Kings of Leon's first ever album. I wasn't thinking about creativity as a tool for wellbeing or connection back then. I was just doing what made me feel free.

 

As an adult I trained as an actor, thinking perhaps this was where my creativity was supposed to take me. But I soon discovered that I hated learning other people's lines. More importantly, I realised I didn't actually want to be creative so that I could perform. I wanted to be creative so that I could be free. I just hadn't quite worked out how to do that yet. So, naturally, I thought I'd become a teacher.

 

I got a job in Feltham YOI Prison and realised that nobody was teaching sex education. So I decided to take it upon myself to create an accredited programme. I developed a course that explored consent, feminism and gay liberation, and instead of simply standing at the front of a room talking at people, I created games and creative projects. The young people explored the subjects, made things, worked together and presented their ideas to the other boys. And something happened. My heart was alive. I didn't just want to teach people information. I wanted to create experiences where people could explore things for themselves. I wanted to make difficult subjects feel approachable. I wanted people to be able to question things, be creative, laugh, disagree, think differently and discover something about themselves in the process.

 

From there, I started delivering drama workshops in a refugee centre. This time, there was another small problem: not everyone spoke English, and not everyone spoke the same language as each other. So we had to find other ways to communicate. The group started with four people and eventually grew to around twenty regular participants, aged from eight to sixty. And somewhere in that room, amongst all the games, creativity and attempts to communicate without necessarily having the right words, I learnt something that has stayed with me ever since. Relationships are built through commitment, kindness, expression and play.

 

After that, I wanted to work in addiction and give something back to people I most identified with. I spent many years working in addiction services, doing casework, navigating systems and supporting people through recovery, while continuing to create and deliver groups around self-esteem, feelings and personal development.

 

But there was always something niggling away at me. I wanted to do more workshops. I wanted creativity to be at the centre of my work, not something I squeezed in around the edges.So I did what seemed like the logical thing to do. I dropped everything and moved to Greece. I went to work in a refugee camp, teaching English and helping to run a community centre. I arrived with my curriculum, my resources and a lovely little plan of how I was going to teach everyone. And then, quite quickly, I realised nobody really wanted my plan. People wanted to be able to communicate with the doctor. They wanted to learn German. They wanted to communicate with each other. They also didn't want to rely on me because people were constantly coming and going, meaning there was no guarantee I'd even be there the following week. So I let go of what I thought people needed and actually listen to what they were telling me. Instead of teaching my curriculum, I started teaching people who wanted to teach how to teach. I created games and resources that people could use again and again, adapt for different languages and change depending on what they actually needed. That was a huge turning point for me. I understood that, just like when I finished drama school, I didn't want to learn other people's lines. I didn't want to teach somebody else's curriculum. I wanted to use creativity and learning to promote freedom and unity, both within ourselves and between one another. I wanted to create spaces where people could explore relationships, emotions, confidence, recovery, identity, self-worth and connection without feeling like they were being told what was wrong with them.

 

That's really where Bananas Groups & Soul Shine Collective began.

 

My work is rooted in both professional experience and lived experience. I'm queer, neurodivergent, in addiction recovery and in mental-health recovery. I've been the person receiving support and I've been the person providing it. I've worked within systems and I've sat alongside people trying to navigate those systems. I don't believe people need fixing. I believe relationships matter. I believe creativity matters. I believe community matters. I believe equality matters. And I believe that sometimes the most powerful thing we can do is create a space where people feel safe enough to be curious about themselves and brave enough to try something different.So that's me.That's where I've come from.

 

That's why I created Bananas Groups & Soul Shine Collective I don't have all the answers. I'm not sure anybody does.But I do know that relationships can change us, community can hold us & creativity can free us.

 

So come as you are.

Bring your weird.

Bring your questions.

Bring your experiences.

Bring the bits of yourself you're still figuring out.

We'll make some space for all of it.