Hi, everybody. Welcome and thank you so much for joining us on this campfire conversation this afternoon. So, I’m Mel Reed as James introduced me there. I’m an Occupational Therapist in Gloucester. Clearly, I’m not from Gloucestershire, but I am an adopted Forrester. I’m a mum, a daughter, a wife, a tea drinker and most importantly, a cake eater. Thanks for being brave for being curious and for reaching into the magical world of storytelling, sharing power, and working in partnership with the people and communities that we serve. We’ve got about 20 minutes together today. However, I’d really love this to be the beginning of our journey together, so please afterwards, let’s share some contact details and let’s connect. James, as he says, is gonna keep me to time, which is no mean feat. I can assure you, because this topic is huge, it’s exciting. And we could talk about it for days. So, I’m gonna rattle through because I’m really keen that we have a good 10 minutes for discussion at the end of this the story. So, as you can see, I’ve brought some props with me. Welcome, Welcome, come in, Come in. These props are to bring our conversation to life. They’re to help us to connect and to hopefully inspire us all to think creatively about research and the art of the possible. The campfire conversation is based on a piece of research that I undertook as part of my master’s in occupational therapy. Copies of my dissertation are dotted around. You haven’t got time to be bothering with that today, but they’re there. I’ve also got some books here which are absolutely awe inspiring, so if anyone is interested in narrative analysis, narrative inquiry or storytelling as a research methodology, these tools are your absolute saviours. This tree here, yes, it’s my children’s Easter tree. Yes, they did help me with the laminating and the creation. There are some reflections on there about my personal research journey. There are also some additional resources. Some Ted talks that you might find interesting, and my details are on there. If you have to rush off you can grab 1 and go. So, without further ado, Once Upon a time, in a land full of Dragons and daffodils, an inquisitive Occupational Therapist embarked on An unexpected journey. This is a story of patience understanding and hope. It’s a story about finding your inner strength, embracing the unknown and doing what’s right, even if it feels wrong. A story about trusting the process, creating psychological safety and using your voice and power to elevate those unseen and often unheard voices across the communities we all work in and are often so part of. This is a story about using an exploratory narrative inquiry method of research, underpinned by the principles of narrative methodology to explore caregivers, everyday experiences of supporting a family member with a serious mental illness. Sadly, I don’t have time to walk everyone through the research today. However, I do want to acknowledge and give credit to my fabulous research participants 3 wonderful Ladies, 2 mothers and a daughter who all shared their stories in such a poignant and impactful way with me. They trusted me to tell their stories, and I will be forever grateful for the time we shared and the insights that have helped to shape the person that I am today, both personally and professionally, so this work really matters. I also think it’s important to share the findings of my research as a way of contextualising our conversation. We often hear and read all about career burnout and all the negative connotations of caring for a family member, particularly those with a serious mental illness. However, my research concluded that caregiving is rooted in culture, everyday experiences, and individual practises. It doesn’t exist in isolation and it’s embedded and established familial relationships and everyday experiences. Or put simply, it’s about caregiving being heavily influenced by the relationships prior to and during a family member’s diagnosis. Those who experienced fractured, difficult relationships with their family members prior to diagnosis and during difficult periods of illness reported negative and challenging experiences of caregiving. However, those who had positive, joyful experiences and relationships with their family members prior to diagnosis reflect on the benefits of caregiving and the opportunities that had opened up for family time connections and reaffirming priorities. So, what is storytelling and research? Narrative research methods focus on a person’s story as the object of investigation, stories are explored in their entirety without fragmenting the themes. Before analysing how the story is constructed and why it is told by the narrator, our research participants in a particular way. Lived experiences are highly contextualised and offer rich and vivid data. Narratives are multifaceted and they’re multi layered. The plot is always developing and it’s always subject to change. Plots help us to make sense of our lives and help us to find meaning. Meaning enables us to understand our reality and the stories we choose to recount in the particular way that we choose to recount them. Storytelling doesn’t happen by accident. It’s crucial for both the researcher and the research participant to Co create meaning and understanding. We need to listen, really listen both to hear and to understand. The spoken and unspoken language is truly fascinating, however far too often we as professional helpers, have our own agendas, either set by the organisations and systems in which we work or in response to our own lived and life experiences. Storytelling and research doesn’t come with a how to guide. There is no one-size-fits-all, so creativity and innovation are required. There are some great books out there and some wonderful research articles using narrative methodology. However, in my experience it’s probably not for the faint hearted. My narrative inquiry journey took me down multiple rabbit holes and several Alice in Wonderland type experiences. I doubted myself constantly. Did I have what it takes? Had I taken on too much, as usual? Did any of it make sense? For such a long time, I felt completely in the dark, eating and breathing narrative inquiry, dreaming about it, talking to myself about it on solo car journeys. There were times I wondered why I hadn’t just chosen thematic analysis. We all know where we are with thematic analysis, right? There’s a recipe. There are lots of books. We know what thematic analysis is all about, however. Once my participants had completed their initial written activities and were both able to analyse the content and plan our semi structured interviews, everything seemed to fall into place. It was definitely a light bulb moment. I listened to my participants recount their experiences in real time and then over and over and over again as part of the transcription and the analysis process. I not only heard what they were saying, but I also felt that emotional connections and the meanings that they’d attributed to their stories and their everyday experiences. It was only then that I truly understood the power of storytelling and the impact of narrative methodology. Had I applied thematic analysis, the true meaning of each unique story would probably have been lost. Each story had to remain intact in its entirety without fragmenting any of the themes. I think this is where the true power of storytelling lies. It really was an awakening and it reinvigorated my faith in research, and it spurred me on to complete the dissertation. On reflection, however, had I known where my unexpected journey would take me, I’m not quite sure if I would have embarked on it in such a carefree manner. However, I’m incredibly glad that I did. Perhaps my naivety and my curiosity and fascination with people’s stories were key. Perhaps the support of my academic supervisor, my family and my friends spurred me on. Perhaps I felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility. This stuff really mattered, and my research participants had entrusted me with their most precious stories, their innermost feelings and their experiences carved out at the most vulnerable at times. Involving the people closest to them, regardless of the relationships. Whatever it was most likely to be a combination of all of those things. I hope I’ve given you a bit of food for thought today and have sparked a little bit of curiosity or even reignited some burning embers. Remember that research is as unique and as magical as the participants who step up and step in to join us on our journeys. We don’t have to be experts, but we do really need to care and listen with genuine fascination. I’d like to finish with some keyword if I can. These words inspired me, and they kept me focused when my research journey took unexpected twists and turns which was quite often. I’ve still got these words stuck up in my office at home to remind me of why I do what I do. So, Albert Einstein, who’s over there? He says if I had an hour to solve a problem, I would spend 55 minutes thinking about the problem and 5 minutes on the solution. I spent many an hour thinking reflecting on my research journey, Mr Einstein reminded me that that was OK. It’s not always about activity outputs and results. Sometimes the why is just as important and often more important. Brené Brown, who many of you may also know of and follow on, Ted talks and Twitter Brené Brown says stories are data with soul. And as we know, numerical data has historically been favoured in research, with quantitative studies often providing the most rigorous outcomes. However, qualitative research methodology are gaining momentum, and storytelling is finally being recognised for the rich and diverse data that provides. And finally, Nelson Mandela. Here he is here on what would have been as 106th birthday today, he says it’s only impossible until it’s done, and this mantra has guided me not only my research journey, but my career as an Occupational Therapist and beyond. Remember that folks, it’s always possible. Thanks for listening.