Safeguarding and community-building

I want to share (with the participants’ permission!) a recent, brief but insightful, thought-provoking conversation into which I was invited to contribute (in a Facebook group that focuses on community-building from a faith perspective). It feels like a profoundly important and timely exploration, for a couple of reasons: firstly, because of the litany of safeguarding failures within the Church of England that has recently been emerging, and the urgent necessity for a change of institutional mindset and structures (we, collectively, must do much better); and secondly, because our increasingly atomized, divided society urgently needs the patiently-exercised practical wisdom of community-building, done in ways that start with the passions, gifts, skills and stories of neighbours young and old (and especially those who have been rendered invisible, inaudible, marginalized) – what is often called ‘asset-based community development’ (ABCD).

Contributors to the conversation, alongside me, are Cate Williams (who works for Gloucester Diocese of the Church of England) and Kat Gibson (a community-builder with Barnwood Trust, Gloucestershire), Jane Perry from Lewes (who has for some years supported us in Hodge Hill to reflect on and evaluate our community-building work), and Ali Dorey from Sheffield (who among other things, worked until recently with Fresh Expressions UK).

CW:

A couple of things recently have alerted me to a potential (creative) tension between ABCD and safeguarding.  As I see it, in many ways ABCD is re-teaching the skills of neighbourliness that we have lost in contemporary society, so is at the simplest level about people meeting people as neighbours, sharing a community together and seeing where that goes.  But for good reasons, contemporary safeguarding teaches us to be wary of the stranger and to put strategies in place that ensure that encounters are protected in some way.

So, are we ok for example to do community bingo at a community festival and encouraging people to open conversations with strangers?  Can an old folks home invite the toddler group in to join them without additional layers of safeguarding or do the safeguarding policies that both these organisations already have cover what is needed?  How can we encourage ordinary neighbourliness and an attitude of trust when there is potential for that trust to be abused? 

KG:

This dilemma is part of why ‘befrienders’ rarely introduce isolated people to their neighbours - even making the introduction is risky - what if things go wrong? And this is one of the reasons why in my own practice I spend most of my time simply asking questions and encouraging. What do you want to see happen here? What do you want your neighbourhood to be like? What would it take to make those things happen? Who do you know who might like to be involved? What’s the best way to meet other people who share that passion?

To me, the element of power is huge here - we move from “I’m going to put something on because it will help the community” to “I’m going to encourage people to do the things they want to do - in their own way and with their own creative resources” - and I’ve come to think over the last few years that actually the more we encourage and the less we ‘help’, the more ownership people feel of their own projects and ideas - such that we have no control over it. This can be scary (and if we want to be able to take credit for something, that’s not going to happen!), but also hard at times to see people struggle without stepping in to fix it for them - at which point the power shifts again.

[To clarify, I don’t necessarily mean having lots of individual conversations and then never making contact again - the dance of stepping in and then stepping back to get out of the way doesn’t necessarily mean run away as soon as you’ve had a conversation - but rather having intentional conversations which focus on asking the right questions (and maybe telling stories too!) rather than offering specific answers or helping too much. You could end up meeting with a person or a group regularly for ages to support them to think through a situation or an idea, but those conversations (in my experience) tend to be most sustainably fruitful when we spend the time asking the sorts of questions that encourage them to find their own answers, rather than offering solutions or sorting things out for them.

Having said that, when there’s something you really want to get involved with because of a personal passion/interest, there’s not necessarily any reason to ‘step away’ - we’re all human as well as any organisational hat we may wear! As long as we don’t take over and help create the conditions for people to grow into their own strengths, make their own decisions and express their gifts more fully (and even make their own mistakes at times!) we can be as involved as we’d like to be!]

If you take this principle a step further it even applies to networking. Most community workers face your dilemma in situations such as - “You want to meet new people and you like painting? Great - I’ll introduce you to so-and-so who also likes painting” - but if we want the person to really take ownership and step into their own power, we might not even make the introductions, but rather ask things like “Who do you know who could be involved in that?” Or “What do you think would be the best way of finding other people who like [painting]?” Or even simply “What would it take for your dream to become reality?”. Sometimes we don’t even need to make an offer (eg to introduce someone to someone else) - if they come up with the idea to meet other people, and their own way of doing so that fits their own personality, the safeguarding question is swallowed up by the principle of trust among neighbours and communities, without any external professionals or helpers being involved. The dynamic becomes more about people as humans getting to know one another and less about systems, agendas or projects.

Of course, there is still a risk - whenever people get to know one another there’s a risk of it not going well or even potentially becoming abusive - but without taking that risk it’s hard for people to build any genuine relationships in the community. We can always support people to think through appropriate boundaries, places to meet, etc - especially if we sense there may be a higher-than-usual risk with a particular individual - but as soon as we step in to control that for them (or even tell them where to meet someone!) the power is ours, not theirs.

This might seem extreme (or ‘purist’ ABCD) but in my experience taking that risk, allowing people to weigh it up for themselves and do things in their own way, creates space for more genuine friendships to be built between people without ‘helpers’ like us sorting it out for them or getting in the way! So Yes, encouraging people at an event to talk to others (eg through community bingo) is a risk worth taking!! If you think about it, we have the same dilemma in every Christian event/conference in which people mingle - there could be people showing up who meet others there and end up in difficulty as a result of those new relationships. But that doesn’t mean the organisers and leaders have to try to ‘manage’ all the individual relationships that could be formed, unless some perceived difficulty arises: we simply support one another to create the conditions in which people can build healthy friendships and flourish in them.

AB:

Kathryn, the wisdom you've shared here is priceless. As I read it, I found myself saying Yes, Yes, and Yes again...

Cate, I think approaching it as a 'creative tension' is a very helpful place to start. Both have a 'best instinct' at their heart, and while their practical out-workings might apparently come into conflict, I don't think their 'best instincts' should do of necessity.

I think the conflict is felt at its sharpest in the kinds of imagination each shapes in us. ABCD invites us to imagine our communities as fundamentally places of goodness, abundance and generosity – an approach that some might accuse of being dangerously naïve. Safeguarding, on the other hand, at its most anxious, can train us to imagine our communities as fundamentally places of danger and abuse. Of course, both have more than an element of truth. And both have well-rooted theological foundations (in Christian doctrines of creation and sin).

So one of the questions we've been learning to ask here is "what factors enable a member of this community to be safe and well?". And one of the answers to that question that we're discovering is: "having a multiplicity of overlapping relationships of trust, friendship and care." Multiplicity and overlapping being key. Even if one relationship (or participation in one friendship group, etc) has the potential to be dangerous or abusive, if someone also has other relationships of trust, friendship and care, then the chances are that one of those other people will spot the signs of concern, and act to help that person find safety and support. It's significant, I think, that none of these relationships are necessarily "professional" - in fact, it's probably better if they're not, because on the whole the "professionals" will be unlikely to overlap with the other aspects of the person's life - neighbours are much more likely to do so.

So one of the roles for the community-builder is - especially through the kinds of process that Kathryn describes so well above - to support and encourage people towards those multiple, overlapping relationships, and, more widely, to contribute to nurturing a local culture of trust, friendship and care. We’ve had some external support (from one of our partner organisations, Thrive Together Birmingham) on this bit of our learning journey in Hodge Hill, under the (helpful, I think) label of 'community safeguarding' - by which we mean the whole community taking responsibility for keeping people safe and well. (Which I think is actually the 'best instinct' of safeguarding more widely, especially in church circles, but often degenerates towards a 'professionalizing' of that responsibility.)

The more we formalise the process of 'introducing' neighbours to each other ('befriending schemes', etc), the more they are necessarily governed by safeguarding processes. The key, as Kathryn has emphasised, is how much we can bear to leave the agency in the hands of local people - and the flip-side of that, how much we can bear, as professionals, to step back into the background of the processes of community-building, space-making, friendship-forming, etc.

Just this week we’ve been thinking locally about youth work in particular. And one of our reflections was that it's tempting for youth workers to talk about themselves as 'safe adults', and the spaces they manage as 'safe spaces' for young people. Both of which are hopefully true - but the underside of that language is the implication that other adults, and other spaces, are generally 'unsafe'.

Some of the response to this is being aware of our own addictions to being needed, and to being seen as unusually 'safe' or 'trustworthy' - under the guise of 'professionalism'. As 'professionals' one of the biggest contributions we can make to safeguarding is to restrict our own activity. The more we do that makes - intentionally or unintentionally - our neighbours dependent on us, the professionals, the less safe they are likely to be - because the less they are likely to look towards a rich network of neighbours for their safety and wellbeing...

JP:

I’m also tempted to reflect that my instinctive response is much the same as my approach to research ethics: if you truly value each individual and are working for their wellbeing, then you should be actively reflecting on what the highest standards of ethics/safeguarding mean in your context (and not have a problem with this); unfortunately we (or rather the institutions we work within) have learned the hard way that we can’t assume that everyone will do this, so they put policies/procedures in place to try to formalise the minimising of risk - that is not wrong, but it should always be secondary to, and supportive of, good practice... not the arbitrator/guarantor of it...it follows that where ‘rules’ appear to be genuinely undermining community-building, I’d feel we had a duty to question that...?

AD:

This is really helpful. It’s reminding me about the ‘where trust decreases, legislation increases, and where trust increases, legislation decreases’ thing. Which is a big topic regarding “pioneering” etc. In my experience the structures of the c of e (most churches?) inadvertently discourage the growth of trust between people. It feels to me like the culture of our churches disciples us in not investing time/energy in forming relationships of trust. Which is the opposite of what Jesus did...? Maybe? Then need for more legalistic /paranoid safeguarding grows, ironically making everyone less safe, and less able to engage in healthy trusting ways with each other and with people in our local communities. If we can somehow avoid modelling the worst of this that would be good! If we can get to the point where we actually are appropriately vulnerable with each other and others in our communities that would be awesome. Well it might actually be something like the pearl of great price that everyone longs for...?

CW:

Not just churches, Ali, it is the culture we live in. Though the church has a backstory on getting safeguarding wrong which leaves us particularly prone to anxiety about now getting it right, which can lead us into legalism around this area.

I've been pondering the backstory because actually most of what we got wrong was around how we dealt with something when it came to light. Hiding harm rather than bringing into the open and dealing with it. Which was undoubtedly wrong. Our response has been to put in all kinds of layers of stuff to prevent it happening in the first place, which is a different thing altogether in many ways though all good to prevent harm of course. But I can't help wondering whether we have made it too much about paperwork and not enough about awareness.

I wonder whether something like a safeguarding risk assessment, which isn't actually something I hear talked about, would be more helpful than more layers of policies and procedures as that is about thinking through a situation and awareness. Maybe it is talked about in youth work circles? But of course a risk assessment can become just a paper exercise . . .

AD:

Hmmm yes... I still think Al’s observations above about what makes people feel safe (and actually be safe, I’d say) is being in lots of overlapping relationships of trust are more key than any risk assessments, safeguarding procedures or anything else. I feel we neglect growing trust at our peril. And I think your observation about bringing things into the light ASAP is exactly what enables the growth of trust. Hence all the teachings about what is hidden will be brought to light. If we could confess truth to one another with honesty and humility and keep short accounts with people that would be very transformative. The structures of institutions etc inevitably seem to end up encouraging subterfuge instead of bringing everything into the light. And yes, we’ve got our history to live with. We either perpetuate it or we change from here on in. I wonder why all priests don’t have a spiritual accompanier? If they did, and engaged honestly and openly with them, I suspect the situation might improve a bit at least? And not just priests. I expect a lot of ordinary people who are not church goers might appreciate that sort of accompaniment too.

AB:

This has been a richly insightful conversation – an honest wrestling with vital questions. I want to resist the temptation to end it ‘neatly’ – falsely tying up ‘loose ends’ that in reality remain loose. But I do want to offer one or two last thoughts for the moment, hopefully to provoke further conversation!

Firstly, our conversation has unfolded in parallel with responses to the IICSA investigation into safeguarding failures in the Church of England. This final line of Friday’s Church Times editorial particularly struck me: 'The story will end well only if the culture of deference to the powerful and indifference to the weak is eradicated'.[1] How on earth have we, the church of Jesus of Nazareth, ended up with a ‘culture of deference to the powerful and indifference to the weak’? It’s a tragically rhetorical question, of course. We can trace the sinful history that has got us here. But how do we move on from this desperate place? The art of community-building, I would suggest, is the beginnings of an answer.

Which brings me to a second observation, and a second coincidence: we’re having this conversation in the days after the death of theologian of community par excellence, L’Arche’s Jean Vanier. One of Vanier’s recurring themes is an insistence that those normally considered ‘strong’ need – and are not just needed by – those normally considered ‘weak’. It was the theme of an incredible lecture he delivered at the House of Lords in 2015[2] – and it’s a watchword of our community-building work in Hodge Hill: “everybody’s welcome here – we can’t do without you,” we often say. I wonder how our safeguarding practice would change if ‘we’, ‘the strong’, were concerned not just to ‘safeguard the vulnerable’, but to be ever attentive and alive to the gifts ‘the vulnerable’ bring to the whole body – including us ourselves.

Simon Duffy’s recent reflections on Vanier’s House of Lord’s lecture are illuminating here:[3]

“In the process of fixing others we lose sight of our very humanity – our essential fragility, our need for love, for belonging and contribution. Humanism becomes inhuman. … [M]odern politics [and not just politics!] demands that the powerful are constantly mindful of their appearance in the media and they must, at all times, maintain the illusion that they are competent to solve any problem. They are caught in an impossible trap – for they must present themselves as the answer to any question we might ask. They are the folk who must stand atop the crazy pinnacle of the world that Vanier wants us to reject: a world where we can only advance by standing on the backs of the other people.

It is important to note that Vanier is not attacking government, the powerful, professional experts or policy-makers. He is not saying they are wrong, stupid or evil. Instead he is acting out the very issue he wants people to understand: we must meet each other; we do not need to use each other. The world is not a puzzle to be solved. We must live and act with integrity and love. We cannot hope to be the answer to every question. We must be true to our own gifts and find the role that is right for us.

If I had one frustration in all of this it was simply that it was so hard to challenge the rather strange assumption in the home of the powerful that it was them – the powerful – who could be trusted to act in the best interests of the weak. Does it make sense to assume the abuser will reform himself [sic]?”

Simon Duffy’s Vanier-inspired reflections apply not just to politics and politicians, of course, but to the Church and its leaders, and to wider community-building efforts and those of us who are community-building practitioners and ‘professionals’. Which sparks a third thought for me. One of the guiding principles for our ABCD work is to ask four questions in the right order (thanks to Kat for reminding me of the crucial fourth!):

1.       What can we do here, in this neighbourhood, with the power of neighbourly relationships?

2.       What can we do here, with a bit of external support from ‘professionals’?

3.       What do we need external ‘professionals’ to do for us?

4.       What do we need ‘professionals’ and organisations to stop doing?

It strikes me that these three questions might necessarily be applied to ‘community safeguarding’:

1.       what can we do here, in this neighbourhood, to ensure our neighbours are safe, well and flourishing, with the power of neighbourly relationships?

2.       what can we do here, in this neighbourhood, to ensure our neighbours are safe, well and flourishing, with a bit of external support from ‘professionals’?

3.       what do we need external ‘professionals’ to do, to ensure our neighbours here are safe, well and flourishing?

4.       what do we need ‘professionals’ to stop doing, to enable our neighbours to be safe, well and flourishing?

The critical point, of course, is asking them in the right order. And when we, ourselves, are the ‘professionals’ – whether ‘external’ or ‘internal’ to the neighbourhoods and communities we’re thinking about – we need to be constantly alert to the need, and the possibilities, for us to step back into the background, to stop doing things, to resist our own addictions to ‘providing safety’ and ‘care’, to enable the power of neighbourly relationships to multiply, deepen and flourish.

One fourth and final point, a 'last word' (for now!) fed into the conversation by our friend and travelling-companion Cormac Russell, who has seen and encouraged ABCD in action in more communities around the world than anyone else I'm aware of. And that is that even our language of children, young people and adults being 'vulnerable' or 'at risk' functions to eclipse the ways in which they are, in fact, brimming with promise and abundant gifts. To shift "from nice words to restorative practices that heal the wounds between young and old", he argues, we need to start with three fundamental assumptions:

1. There is space and hospitality within every community for the gifts of all young people,  regardless of their history or reputation, if we intentionally invite them in and make the connections. These spaces will not be found unless we actively seek them out and animate them.
2. Communities cannot reach their full potential until the gifts of their young citizens are discovered and received.
3. We do not have a “youth problem,” we have a “village problem.” Every young person, regardless of past transgressions, has strengths that are needed to tackle this village problem and, by so doing, to build inclusive sustainable communities.

“It takes a village to raise a child” may have been the way of the past, but in the future––if we can learn to embrace the giftedness of our young people––it may be truer to say it takes a child to raise a village. [4]

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[1] Church Times editorial, 17^th May 2019, ‘Power of abuse’ (https://www.churchtimes.co.uk/articles/2019/17-may/comment/leader-comment/power-of-abuse)

[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NOX_UPSyJw

[3] https://www.centreforwelfarereform.org/library/by-date/in-memory-of-jean-vanier.html

[4] quoted by permission from Cormac's forthcoming book