Hearing Young People

Both Dream to Screen and The Freedom Academy demonstrated a deep commitment to listening and responding to the voices of young refugees. Rather than imposing a fixed model of practice, both projects were shaped around what participants identified as useful, enjoyable, and meaningful, which led to the development of a space built from shared contribution. For example, young people in the Compass Community frequently expressed a desire to gain industry-relevant skills to support aspirations such as attending drama school or working professionally.¹⁶ In response, Dream to Screen was led by one of Compass Collective’s resident facilitators alongside a professional filmmaker, and The Freedom Academy was led by ATG’s resident facilitator, who has extensive stage experience. Significantly, this professional presence did not mean the processes were top-down. On the contrary, participants were active contributors to every aspect of the projects, from warm-up games to devising, staging, and performing original work. Youth Ambassadors with lived experience of migration played a key role as co-facilitators not only during Dream to Screen, but also during The Freedom Academy, ensuring that young people’s perspectives were embedded into the creative output and into how the project was led. Their presence challenged hierarchies and enabled a model of leadership grounded in shared experience and mutual respect. Compass Collective succeeded in creating a space where participants could access the high-quality artistic guidance they requested, while also ensuring that their ideas, identities, and creative agency remained central.¹⁷

“Holding Hands” and Fostering Bravery

An increase in trauma awareness within the arts has signalled a need to interrogate and reflect on the spaces practitioners create through their practice.¹⁸ Recently, scholars have debated the term ‘safe space’, acknowledging that we cannot guarantee all individuals will feel ‘safe’ in any given moment.¹⁹ This does not disregard the concept of safeguarding, but rather acknowledges that what a practitioner deems safe may not always align with how participants feel. In response to this, recent discourse in trauma-informed arts practice favours ‘brave spaces’ rather than ‘safe spaces’, recognising that while participants may not always feel entirely safe, we can encourage them to engage bravely.²⁰ Throughout their practices, Compass Collective fostered a space in which bravery was not only encouraged, but celebrated.

The idea of “putting yourself out there” and “not being afraid to make mistakes” fostered an ethos of bravery across both projects: as one participant explained, “[I learnt] to be brave”.²¹ During Dream to Screen, however, bravery was responded to in a particularly noticeable way. Each time an individual volunteered to take part in a game, participants were encouraged to commend this participation with applause. Similarly, whenever somebody ‘lost’ a game (they moved too slowly for example, and did not progress to the next round), the group was asked to applaud them for carrying out what was described as a “noble act”.²² The implication of this phrase was that there was no such thing as losing or failure, only bravery or ‘nobility’ in being the first member of the group to leave the game. By celebrating participation in and of itself and de-prioritising winning games, Compass created a space that was not only non-judgemental but full of encouragement and validation. These conditions boosted young people’s confidence and diminished their embarrassment, raising the quietest voices and engaging even the most reluctant individuals. This effect was evidenced in the project feedback survey. One individual said they learnt “[not to be] scared to appear in front of people” and another that they were “really scared” at the beginning, but it turned into “an amazing experience”.²³

Compass Collective’s success in encouraging individuals to be brave and fostering confidence was further rooted in a respect for dissent.²⁴ If an individual seemed reluctant, their participation was not demanded; rather, facilitators asked if they wanted to join.²⁵ When an individual did not want to be vulnerable, their decision was respected by the facilitators, and they were never pressured to take part. This respect for opting out evidenced a recognition of individuals as human beings capable of making choices and asserting boundaries.²⁶ It challenged the feeling of not being heard or recognised that often underlies refugee experience and feelings of ethical loneliness.²⁷

While bravery was encouraged, safety (in the literal sense) was not disregarded. A member of Compass Collective’s Welfare Team was always present and ready to talk to individuals who may be facing difficulties within the workshop or in their wider lives, and the facilitators themselves ensured inclusivity and accessibility for all involved. During both projects, facilitators remained committed to getting to know everyone from the outset, asking what they needed and what they wanted to get out of the work before it commenced.²⁸ They further engaged in consistent self-reflection asking what was or was not working well, who might need one-to-one support, and what might need changing or adapting to mould the practice to the group.²⁹

As articulated by one Compass Collective staff member during The Freedom Academy, the act of working together to create theatre is not just creative, it is also about “holding hands” to say “I’ve got you”.³⁰ By fostering brave and safe spaces, characterised by respect, support, and encouragement, Compass Collective enacted solidarity with the young refugees and asylum seekers participating in these workshops. While they may not have literally been holding hands with participants, they stood with them in unity and solidarity to support their achievements, listen to their wants and ideas, and respect and recognise their choice and agency.³¹

Checking In and Out

This sense of holding hands, of supporting individuals and meeting them where they are, was further reflected in the ‘check-ins’ and ‘check-outs’ that were integral to the structure of all the workshops I observed. During check-ins, participants and facilitators sat in a circle and were invited to share things like how they were feeling, their favourite film, or their favourite food.³² These moments created space for self-reflection and listening,³³ allowing individuals to assess their emotional state and energy levels. As one participant framed it, it was an opportunity to ask “is it me that has had a hard week, or is it the room that’s stressing me out?”.³⁴ This practice also enabled facilitators to identify who might be feeling low, distracted, or vulnerable, prompting quiet interventions to ensure their experience was supported.³⁵ These micro-gestures of noticing and responding demonstrate attunement, or a mutual, affective responsiveness and receptivity between individuals as they work together and relate to one another.³⁶ This attunement underpins Compass Collective’s practice and is arguably fundamental to their capacity to build trust and care, and, in turn, enact solidarity.³⁷ At the end of sessions, check-outs provided moments for reflection, in which participants were encouraged to express how they felt leaving the space, what they had enjoyed, or what they would carry with them. For facilitators, these reflections also served as valuable feedback, shaping the next day’s work and informing the long-term development of the charity’s practice.

Particularly significant to the practice of solidarity, check-ins and check-outs served as ethical tools for trauma-informed facilitation.³⁸ They provided transitional boundaries between the outside world and the creative space, serving as an emotional border that helped participants shift focus gently and safely. For young people who are navigating the precarity of the asylum process, often without stability or support, such transitions can be profoundly important. A check-in question about favourite food may seem light-hearted, but it invites participants to recall pleasure and comfort, experiences that may be scarce in their everyday lives.³⁹ Likewise, check-outs helped to regulate the emotional intensity of leaving a space that may have felt joyful or grounding and returning to a reality that can feel unstable, alienating, or unsafe.

One check-out during The Freedom Academy encapsulated this transition poignantly. A Compass staff member invited participants to hold out their hands like an open book. He asked them to think about what had taken place in the session: what had been said, felt, and shared. Then he asked them to “close the book” by slowly close their hands, putting it away until next time.⁴⁰ This simple embodied exercise offered a way of containing both joy and difficulty; it was a method for symbolically storing what had been meaningful while also releasing anything too heavy to carry out into the week. It was a gesture of care, allowing participants to step away from the session in a way that was emotionally scaffolded.

This use of check-ins and check-outs exemplifies how theatre practitioners might integrate safeguarding and emotional support into the structure of their workshops. Such a practice was not auxiliary to Compass Collective’s creative process; it was a central part of how they enacted solidarity with the young people in their workshops, evidencing attentiveness, continuity, and ethical responsibility to the well-being of participants. In contexts where young refugees face ongoing uncertainty and isolation, these moments can provide emotional grounding and remind individuals that they are seen and supported.

Wider Support

Working within the London area, Compass Collective faces logistical challenges engaging young people. Projects like Dream to Screen and The Freedom Academy engage with individuals who have very little or no money to spend,⁴¹ so transport to and across London was a barrier for potential participants. To address this, Compass chose to provide travel expenses for all participants, regardless of location and actively communicated this to all who were interested in participating. When the basic issue of cost was removed, there was registration of interest from all areas of Greater London, and Dream to Screen even saw participants attend from Shrewsbury and Liverpool. During both projects, individuals were also provided with food, easing financial pressure and providing sustenance for those who might otherwise have limited access to substantial meals.⁴² Even when this support was financially difficult for the organisation to maintain, it was always prioritised.

By providing food and financial assistance, Compass Collective evidenced micro-gestures of solidarity that recognised individuals as human beings, challenging the dehumanisation that Stauffer views as a core element of ethical loneliness.⁴³ These practices moved beyond tokenistic inclusion to foster a relational ethic of care,⁴⁴ where participants’ material realities were acknowledged as inseparable from their creative engagement. In doing so, Compass positioned logistical support not as ancillary but as central to creative practice —an infrastructural expression of community welcome and shared humanity. Such gestures, while seemingly small, enabled the conditions for deeper participation, trust, and belonging, underscoring how practical accommodations can function as foundational acts of recognition and respect.

Meeting Human Needs

Viewed through the lens of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs,⁴⁵ Compass’s projects enact solidarity by supporting young people at multiple levels of development. At the most basic level, their projects provide food, travel, and welfare support, meeting individuals’ physiological needs.⁴⁶ With these foundations in place, Compass’s projects are further able to address higher-level psychological needs vital for personal growth and fulfilment, including love and belonging, esteem, self-actualisation, and ultimately transcendence.⁴⁷ By addressing these human needs, the charity counteracts the dehumanisation that refugees often face⁴⁸ and that Stauffer identifies as a contributor to ethical loneliness.⁴⁹

Dream to Screen and The Freedom Academy supported participants’ need for love and belonging in multiple ways.⁵⁰ Acting offered a shared language through which participants, many of whom expressed a love for film and television, could connect across linguistic and cultural differences.⁵¹ This artistic medium fostered a sense of familiarity and connection to others. Beyond the work itself, participants described powerful experiences of friendship, love and respect.⁵² One individual from The Freedom Academy shared that they “did not care about the show,” but valued most that the staff “genuinely cared” about them.⁵³ Another reflected: “[I learnt that] there are still good people in the world who root for you.”⁵⁴ These statements reveal more than just appreciation; they express a profound experience of being cared for and respected as a person, experiences central to the fulfilment of love and belonging needs that, in turn, mitigate feelings of ethical abandonment.⁵⁵

Participant responses to both projects also suggested fulfilment of esteem needs; the need to feel a sense of capability and achievement.⁵⁶ When asked what they learned from the projects, numerous individuals reported developing feelings of competence alongside technical skills: “I can act if I put my mind to it”; “[the project] gave me confidence in my abilities, enabling me to trust my ideas and execute them.”⁵⁷ The development of confidence was also a recurring theme in responses to both projects, with 100% of Freedom Academy participants reporting that their confidence had improved as a result of the practice.⁵⁸ These reflections evidence feelings of competence, mastery, and self-confidence central to meeting esteem needs.⁵⁹

Further, the decision to provide professional-level actor training across both projects addressed participants’ self-actualisation needs.⁶⁰ For many, displacement had disrupted educational trajectories or made career ambitions seem unattainable. In Dream to Screen, one participant shared that they had been forced to abandon a career path in their home country, while another explained they had never had the opportunity to pursue one.⁶¹ In this context, training with industry professionals was not only about learning performance techniques; it became a symbolic and practical reintroduction to the idea of a future. It signalled belief in participants’ potential, affirming their right to opportunity, recognition, and creative ambition, regardless of their circumstances. In enabling participants to pursue their goals and re-establish a sense of self-purpose, Compass was seen to address the highest levels of Maslow’s hierarchy by enabling self-actualisation.⁶²

Finally, Compass Collective’s broader engagement in fostering a cohesive sense of community and interpersonal connectedness can be understood as contributing to the cultivation of self-transcendence.⁶³ Through collective creativity and mutual care, young people working with Compass experience a sense of purpose and belonging that extends beyond their own individual growth. They come to see themselves as part of a community —as collaborators and friends working together, supporting one another’s dreams, and growing alongside one another. This feeling is implicit in the tendency of Compass Collective and the young people with whom they work to refer to themselves as “The Compass Community”.⁶⁴ It seems that this charity’s work not only invites participants to perform, but also to belong; to face the uncertainties of displacement in unity and collective solidarity.