“On behalf of the generation of traumatised Americans” Part One

October 10th. The spokesperson for their group, a young woman in her twenties is trying to explain to me why they find me so disturbing. She begins by stating that she is “speaking on behalf of the generation of traumatised Americans”. I am so struck by her appointed title that initially I struggle to concentrate, as my mind runs through past generations of Americans who survived the great Depression and the Dust Bowl Migration of the 30’s to those in the 60’s and 70’s who lived through the Civil Rights Movement and the Vietnam War. Why is todays younger generation the generation to claim exclusive rights on trauma? As I listen, I understand that she is explaining how recent events that had led to the Black Lives Matter and Me Too movements have left her and her generation fearful, wounded and anxious. They believe they now need extra support to help them navigate their way through their world, which they perceive to be an untrustworthy and dangerous place.

The sensory games that are causing such problems have been developed by me over the last twenty-five years, through playing and performing with autistic people. The games have been found to be beneficial in helping autistic people navigate their way through the world. Their world is one where the ground itself seems to be swaying like a ship in heavy seas, a world where the transition from one space to another can be so overwhelming that it’s easier to stay in one room and never venture out, a world where noises and lights conspire in volume and brightness that can overpower the senses with devastating consequences for the individual and their family. And now, I’m with a group of young actors and professionals who have been brought together to learn how to play these games, and thereby benefit autistic people in their community, but they are so full of dread and anxiety themselves that everything I’m passing on is received as a threat to their safety. It’s important to stress that this reaction is not shared by the whole group, in fact those who don’t share the fears, about half of the young people present, are brilliant at the games, wonderfully talented and I hope to work with them again. They were also deeply frustrated by the negativity of their peers, causing yet another level of division in the room.

The week is seismic for me in two ways. Firstly, I come face to face with young people who I appear to traumatise, whom I believe Jonathan Haight is now calling The Anxious Generation. Every day I find myself crossing invisible red lines, shattering channels of communication between them and me. Secondly, the world changes on October 7th . A family member of one of my long-time colleagues who is attending the course has been taken hostage in Israel and my friend is understandably distracted. But he wants to be with us; the soulful purpose of the work keeps him from the horror of the situation. In light of what he is experiencing, I can’t understand how the young actors who are so offended by the playful sensory games of the Hunter Heartbeat Method cannot put their grievances into perspective. I Thanks to Johnathan Haights new book, The Anxious Generation, I finally begin to get it.

And what are these specific offences? I call two young women girls on the first day instead of their preferred people. I say sorry straight away when it’s pointed out to me but it results in their never speaking to me again and spending the rest of the week sitting on the sidelines, refusing to take part and taking notes on my every move. I am told at the end of the week that I threatened their safety. Nothing could be further from my intentions. Next, I introduce a game of ‘tipping’ that autistic people across the world find comforting and enjoyable. This game requires our autistic participants to stand between two actors who become their physical supports. These ‘supports’ catch the autistic person as they fall back and forth between them.

I have played this game for many decades including a session with prisoners catching guards and vice versa in Brixton Prison in 2005. I witnessed it being played in India by older women who placed bowls of water to the front of the autistic ‘ faller’ so they could reach down to it and create an arc of droplets in the air as they fell back. This is an ancient ritualistic drama game that develops trust and is often the game that unlocks joyful participation for our most locked away participants. Many non-verbal autistic people of all ages ‘ask’ us to play this game with them; they lead us to the circle, placing themselves between two actors and fall into our arms. Voluntarily. I have adapted it over the years with the addition of holding the feet of the autistic faller to give extra support, thereby developing the vestibular system. Many autistic people walk on their toes, with their heels not touching the floor and our participants have often told us this game makes them feels safer than usual; it can be the first time they experience their full foot on the floor. It has always served to alleviate fear and build trust and is played for that purpose. Until I played it in Cincinnati.

In the room, the young actors are horrified at the idea of making physical contact with each other. They also express their collective fear that they wouldn’t be able to judge whether an autistic person will want to play, and they become obsessed with the notion of consent. This, together with the notion that their bodies are not sufficient to hold someone else’s body, results in the molecules in the room seeming to change and the change is not positive. I suggest that we practice this tipping game with me in the centre and two of them catching me. One of my colleagues goes behind me and I persuade the aforementioned spokesperson to stand in front of me ready to catch. All she must do is catch me with her hands and gently push me backward. I cross my arms in front of my chest and keep my feet together. I fall backward first, no problem, my colleague catches me and gently pushes me forward. As my body gently falls toward this young woman, she screams in my face, at the top of her voice, panicked, as if in horror of being asked to be trusted. She moves away. She makes no attempt to catch me, which I have never witnessed before, as if natural human instinct has disappeared. It is then that she speaks on behalf of traumatised people.

We finish the week with the beautiful performance of Pericles; the actors who had embraced the work performing with a group of older people with special needs, all sharing the unique games of love, loss and reunion. It is truly memorable. There are no sets, no costumes, just actors in a space using their bodies and voice to express the tsunami of feeling that the play creates. In one week, these actors have learnt the games, understood how to play them, opened their hearts and souls to the story of Pericles and blossomed into confident strong actors in front of my eyes. Meanwhile the other half of the group, the generation of traumatised Americans, sit on the sidelines and watch, still refusing to speak to me.

"The Great Rewiring of Childhood is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness" stands out on the front cover of Johnathan Haight’s book. It is a sobering read wherein he forensically shows how Gen Z – defined as the group of people born between the late 1990s and 2010 - have been struggled to escape the way they receive news and information. I think back to the young woman who told me, as if nothing had ever happened in the US before, that the events that led to the Black Lives Matter and Me Too movements had traumatised her generation. Haight makes me see that it’s the way she received these events that has traumatised her; as a 24/7 attack on the senses via the one companion she will never reject – her phone. Last year, a colleague in London told me I should consider running Hunter Heartbeat courses for young people to address the increasing mental health crisis that is enveloping Gen Z. I was sceptical, and not a little unsympathetic. However, I have spent more time in the states this year and I see there is real cause for concern as well as a link between the rise in Autism diagnosis - Currently one in 36 people in the US has An ASD Diagnosis which I will write about in Part 2 of this essay. Coda; After the performance of Pericles on October 14th I joined the Pro Palestine march in the early evening through the city of Cincinnati. I didn’t know then I would join the large organised marches through my home city of London for the next twenty-one months in response to Israel’s genocide. The marches continue and I will always join them.