It began with an email
Shortly after attending an online workshop for health consumers, facilitated by Health Consumers Centre Manager, Alison Coughlan, Paul Gallagher sent this email:
“I thought you did a terrific job at leading the session, managing myriad personalities and perspectives. I was telling my wife last night how much I enjoyed it, remarking to her that you led in such a way that everybody felt respected and heard. I suppose, in your line of work, that would be a massive compliment. Good then: I mean it.”
While the compliment for Alison was lovely on its own, our team saw an opportunity to pause and approach Paul with curiosity: what was it about Alison’s facilitation that made him feel safe enough to share vulnerably about his lived experience during the workshop?
As someone who facilitates and designs many engagement experiences at the Health Consumers Centre (the Centre), I was keen to learn from Paul’s perspective. We met online, joined by the Centre’s admin officer Anny Biagioni, and spent an hour talking about the insights that have come from sharing his lived experience in group settings — and the ways facilitators can create spaces that are safe enough, validating, and rewarding.
Here are Paul’s insights and invitations, shared with generosity and thoughtfulness, for anyone holding space for lived experience.
The art of movement and stillness
Paul noticed that facilitation is a constant dance between movement and stillness. There is moving through a planned approach, keeping things on track, connecting together different voices and opinions. And there is stillness – holding the room, pausing so stories can land, slowing things down when needed.
“Alison immediately had a gentleness to her shepherding, balanced with direction. I could tell she was always mindful that she had a place to get to. Like writing an essay, she topped and tailed it, set the parameters clearly at the beginning… but she adapted along the way.”
It’s not about choosing one or the other. The art is in balancing both—delivering on the objectives of a session without making people feel like their contribution is being managed away.
“When I was on the call with Alison, I felt safe speaking, but also that time stopped a bit when I was talking to her … she had drawn the attention to me. And she did this for everyone, and I watched her do it.”
Invitations for facilitators
- How might you be transparent about the purpose of the session and the way people’s stories will be held and used later?
- When the pace starts to quicken, can you give yourself permission to pause, even briefly?
- After someone has spoken, what would it be like to let a little silence sit, so their words can really land?
Bringing your whole self, not just your ‘professional’ self
Paul highlighted the importance of facilitators showing up as human beings and feeling brave enough to “de-professionalise yourself”. People want to know you have things in hand, but also that you’re willing to let your humanity show.
“Alison had a particular style about her — she was enjoying the experience, even when it was tough. That is a rare quality.”
I let Paul know about a time when I had facilitated a focus group with members of the deaf and hard of hearing community and at the end of the session I expressed to the group that I was feeling quite emotional about some of the things they had shared. In the back of my mind I had often wondered whether it was ‘appropriate’ to have exposed that reaction to the participants and asked Paul for his perspective.
“I really appreciate when a facilitator has connected on a human level with me. They’re the ones I feel safest with and they’re the ones that I remember the most… Be brave enough to de-professionalise yourself. Come out from behind the checklist…. The best facilitators are measured by how much they treated us like human beings. Because the system often doesn’t treat us that way.”
Invitations for facilitators
- Where might you allow yourself to step away from the script, if the moment calls for it?
- When someone shares something tender or difficult, how could you respond in a way that shows you have genuinely connected with their words?
- In what ways might you bring more of your humanity forward, so people feel you are meeting them person to person?
Holding space for vulnerability
Both during our conversation, and during the online workshop, Paul shared openly about living with secondary progressive Multiple Sclerosis. He also talked about the many hospitalisations and challenges with emergency departments that have come with his condition. Paul has come scarily close to “quietly dying” several times due to being highly susceptible to runaway infection, including sepsis.
“I waited to share this vulnerability until the second half of the session – I’m conscious that whenever you share a personal story, there is an element of risk with that – how will it be received? Am I holding the floor too much? But Alison was able to hold that. She asked a question in a way that made me feel like it was ok to share.”
Paul felt that his and others’ experiences were validated in real time. Paul noticed Alison would often reflect or repeat back a little of what someone had said so they knew they had been heard. We talked about the fear that many people with lived experiences have in spaces like these. Are my experiences ‘bad enough’ or ‘big enough’ to be shared here? Living with an invisible disability can carry this fear that “no one is going to believe us”. It was an important reminder of the role we play as facilitators to really honour what it takes to share, to never dismiss, minimise or doubt someone’s experiences.
Invitations for facilitators
- When someone takes the risk of sharing, can you ground yourself — perhaps by planting your feet, softening your shoulders, or simply holding their gaze?
- How can you let people know that every experience is valid, and that everyone has a right to be there?
- When you reflect back someone’s words, can you do it in a way that validates them, rather than analysing or reducing them?
Developing a trauma-informed practice
The term ‘trauma-informed’ is one that we hear or see more and more in the health and lived experience engagement sector. In my early career as an Occupational Therapist in mental health, it became an embedded part of my practice. But when I was talking to Paul, I didn’t want to insert this jargon-y language into the conversation. I was curious to learn what good facilitation might look or feel like to people in the room, who are bearing these traumatic experiences.
“A facilitator has got to have the courage to allow a participant to take time to tell their story, and understand that their small thing is big… the truth is, most of the time, in the health sector, when you’re asking for lived experiences, you’re more often asking for what didn’t work… which means exposing yourself to what the problem really looks like, in the queue, in the bed, at the bottom of the system. It takes guts to ask people about all their little bits — and not make them feel small.”
In this work of improving systems, I have to be ready to hear stories of people being harmed by them. If I am not open to hearing this, I can’t do the work with integrity. Speaking with Paul reminded me that while resilience is important, I never want it to harden into indifference or, worse, dismissiveness. Being accountable to community means listening, honouring and believing people’s experiences — again and again — so that any changes made to the health system reflect what is truly needed.
Invitations for facilitators
- How can the goals of your organisation or project be held alongside people’s experiences, without minimising or diluting them?
- When thinking about the topics you are raising, how might you prepare for the fact that some may be sensitive or painful to share — and offer options for people to choose how (or if) they contribute?
- In the spaces you facilitate, how do you make sure that the needs of the project are met while still honouring the care, dignity and safety of each individual?
The ripple effect
Paul’s words continue to resonate: “You made my small thing, big.”
I left the conversation with Paul with a renewed sense of responsibility. As someone who has the privilege of speaking with and learning from people with lived and living experience of the health system, the way I choose to show up and go about my work matters above all else.
“I don’t think health professionals [or facilitators] realise enough how memorable their encounters are. In a week of physios, catheters every day, blood tests — your encounter with me might just be 30 billable minutes of Medicare or 2 hours of a focus group. But for me, it might be the biggest thing happening in my week.
I’ll remember the encounter with a facilitator more than they’ll remember me. We have a lot of valleys. Most of my appointments — there’s no good news. When a facilitator gives you a chance to talk about your life, it might be the first hill I’ve had in two months.”
And maybe that’s an important reminder for anyone engaging with people using our health system. What feels small in the moment can ripple outward, transforming how someone sees themselves, their story, and ultimately transforming the health system around us.
A final note: It’s simple, not easy
Trauma-informed practice doesn’t happen by accident. It requires preparation, time and intention. Even pulling together this article took many careful steps. Alison first checked with Paul that it was ok for Anny and I to reach out to him after his initial email. Our conversation with Paul ran over time because it mattered not to cut it short. We asked what role Paul wanted in shaping the article and followed up to let him know how impactful the conversation had been. We kept Paul in the loop when there were delays in preparing the article, and provided draft versions of the article with Paul to review and ensure his voice was respected. When there were delays, we kept him in the loop. Drafts were shared so Paul could review how his voice was being represented. And importantly, Paul was paid for his time in contributing to our knowledge building and sharing it with you.
There are no shortcuts. It’s a practice of presence, patience, and care. And it matters.
If you need help reaching community members for a project, group or initiative, please reach out to us at healthconsumers@deakin.edu.au.
