Dance Movement Therapy and Psychosocial Rehabilitation: Model Sampoornata

Sohini Chakraborty

INTRODUCTION

In 2004, Kolkata Sanved was formed by the author along with five survivors of sexual violence and sex trafficking. This organization is one of the pioneers in the field of Dance Movement Therapy (DMT) in India and uses DMT exclusively for psychosocial rehabilitation and reintegration. Kolkata Sanved’s process has been drawn from the Western concept of DMT with Indian dance movements being incorporated into DMT processes developed in the West in order to create a successful model known as Sampoornata. The organization works in shelter homes, red-light areas, open communities, railway platforms, and hospitals. It must be noted that the core employee group of Kolkata Sanved were once residents of red-light areas themselves: they have been rescued from prostitution and other kinds of vulnerable situations (Kolkata Sanved, 2014).

Prior to delving into the core of this chapter, I begin with my connection to dance. Then, I introduce the formation of Kolkata Sanved and Sampoornata (‘fulfillment’), the keystone of Kolkata Sanved’s DMT program. After discussing the structure of Sampoornata as a DMT model, I reflect on its uniqueness and contributions to the field of DMT and social change. Transformation, empowerment, and social change are the three main elements of this model, while rehabilitation and reintegration into society are two important aspects and outcomes of it. Most importantly, after the healing and recovery process, survivors become healers and leaders. Finally, I discuss the academic research studies that have validated Sampoornata as an approach to healing and social change and have given DMT credence within India.

DANCE AND ME

At age seven I expressed my desire to dance, so my parents put me into a dance class. This particular setting was very restrictive, formulaic, and rigid, so I decided to leave. It was a big decision at the age of seven, but something was missing that I couldn’t articulate. Therefore, my parents decided not to enroll me in any other course. However, my passion for dancing remained. The only channel through which I could express myself was free dance. When I was in fifth grade, there was a celebration in my school, and I wanted to perform with a group of older students. On the day of the celebration, I wore a plain sari to dance in, and so the senior students unceremoniously cast me away. They said that I needed a dance costume to perform. Their reactions left me devastated and filled my mind with many thoughts. It made me wonder why dance needed to be so decorative. However, that incident, like the previous one, did not dent my desire to dance. I continued to create dances to different poems and songs by myself and with friends at school.

When I was in ninth grade, it was my responsibility to organize a dance show that would be a part of a school event. The show had both Tagore Drama and contemporary dance components to it.¹ More than 50 students signed up, which was a very rare occurrence. It was saddening to realize that a few of them had never gotten an opportunity to dance on stage before, as they had been rejected for being unattractive or untalented. The dance show I organized did not have stage makeup or typical dance costumes; it was just dancing, in its truest element. The show received mixed reviews. While half the teachers were in awe of the performance, the other half was appalled. In the long run, it was the real legacy of the performance that was remembered. The joy and sense of achievement felt by the students who had never danced before was truly blissful to behold (Chakraborty, 2013).

I realized that dance, by itself, can contribute much more than the ‘performances’ with which it is normally associated. People assume that only those who are considered ‘beautiful’ by stereotypical social standards can become dancers. I noticed that in performances pretty girls with light skin would be asked to stand in front of the stage even if they' weren’t very' talented, while many talented dancers were given positions in the back just because they' didn’t match with what society wants to see in a dancer. Therefore, I decided to search for the real meaning and process of dance, outside of what is taught in traditional dance schools and what is emphasized during show performances. In my search, I discovered that it is crucial to understand that movement, self-expression, ideas, and creativity are the actual gemstones of any performance (Chakraborty', 2004), which is often not understood because of societal obsessions with looks.

Studying sociology in college opened my eyes to how I could use dance differently. I created three small groups of non-dancers. One of these groups consisted of girls from a conservative Islamic institution. I persuaded the authorities of the institution to allow them to perform at cultural events. During this time, I also wrote a criminology paper on violence against women through which I began to understand that violence can lead to the formation of a negative image of the body and the self, which in turn affects people physically, emotionally, mentally, and socially. This eventually led to an epiphany: I began to wonder whether dance could help people recover after violence and improve their self-image in the process—just like it did for the girls from my ninth-grade performance. From the very day' of this revelation, I knew what my purpose in life would be. My path ahead became a whole lot clearer. The path was: ‘Dance Beyond Dance’ (Chakraborty', 2013).

SEARCH: A NEW JOURNEY

I spent many a day' thinking about the best way to implement my thoughts. In 1996, I was at the Kolkata Book Fair, and while I was moving from one bookstall to another, a poster mounted at one stall drew my attention. It consisted of a photograph of a girl, beneath which was printed this heartfelt poem: “They sell me, my own blood for some gold and some silver, I rinse and rinse my mouth but the treachery remains. ... I am no more mother to be, I am no more bride to be, I am no morefuture to be'' I stopped in front of the poster, and for a moment, my entire life stopped. I went inside to learn more about that girl and embarked on a new journey.

Armed with a master’s degree in sociology and training in Bharatnatyam, Navanritya, and Theater,² I ventured into a Dance Movement Therapy program for children living at a care home. This shelter home was run by' a Kolkata-based, anti-trafficking non-profit organization called Sanlaap and was founded by Indrani Sinha for the rehabilitation of victims of human trafficking and sexual exploitation.

Human trafficking is the third largest crime in the world, creating approximately $10 billion per year. The International Labour Organisation ([ILO], 2005) has estimated that the minimum number of persons in forced labor, including sexual exploitation as a result of trafficking, at any given time is 2.5 million. According to a United Nations UNITE report (2009), up to 70% of women experience violence in their lifetime (p. 1). The patriarchal social structure constantly teaches women and girls to normalize violence and take this as their fate. This leads to self-blame, resulting in a complete loss of self-respect and identity (Chakraborty, 2010). Dance serves as a powerful tool that helps these women and children overcome these feelings and develop a sense of comfort within their own bodies. Through dance, they begin a process of emotional and physical bonding with their own selves, releasing the limiting aspects of their trauma in order to recover and developing their confidence to start a new life (Chakraborty, 2011, 2012).

When I began working at Sanlaap, I was ver}' excited. It seemed almost unreal because I had read so much about victims of violence in textbooks and newspapers, and now I was actually working with and for them. However, for the first two weeks I struggled to communicate with the children. Introducing unfamiliar movements was met by a lack of response and expression on their behalf. Therefore, I started my DMT sessions with physical exercises and story-based movements. Each activity was based on a simple theme such as movement of people walking on the street or movement around the home. We explored the body and space using various kinds of music, including Hindi film songs. The children eventually participated more actively, and I ended up spending more and more time with them. Some girls began sharing their life stories with me when we sat together after our sessions.

Each day became a learning experience for me, developing my understanding of how to deal with the participants. Ever}' day I explored and discovered a new approach and path.

My experiences with the children at the Sanlaap shelter home made me realize that dance movement is therapeutic. With the progress of the sessions, the children’s participation improved. They began to talk about their suffering and pain and used dance as a medium to express their feelings.

Working with them, I soon realized that my own position in society as a woman is deeply connected to them within the context of the patriarchal society that we all inhabit. I realized that my emancipation is incomplete without their emancipation. I also realized that dance movement, in its subjective interpretation, releases a person from various pressures imposed on them by society, and that I, myself, had become interested in this area because it had had a huge impact on me and my liberation. Through teaching, I realized that dance movement is almost like magic. It brings out self-confidence and creativity, empowering one to act as an active creative agent. Through dance, the girls living at the care home opened up physically and were able to articulate their thoughts. Soon enough, they developed eye contact, improved body posture, and moved through space with purpose and confidence, increasing their ability to focus in other areas of everyday life.

In 2000, I connected with the American Dance Therapy Association (ADTA). I acknowledge the importance of learning the fundamental theories developed in Western DMT practice, and thus continuously supplement my existing formal education by attending workshops rooted in Western knowledge. It helps me examine my entire process, while motivating me by showing me that I am on the right path of professional development and growth. However, I believe that it is imperative to modify the work so that it becomes appropriate for the Indian context; therefore, I have developed a model of DMT that is culturally contextualized and community-focused. I seek ways to incorporate the healing elements that have always been used in traditional Indian dances in a more systematic manner.

At the time that I connected with ADTA, it was difficult to find a community-focused DMT approach across the globe. I did not find any organization that used DMT as a core therapeutic intervention in psychosocial rehabilitation. Within India, dance is mainly seen as a form of entertainment, and in certain communities, it is even considered to be a taboo! This is true for therapy as well. Therapy is a resource that is unavailable to most Indian people, especially the underprivileged and marginalized. I wondered how I could break these barriers and take DMT programs to low-resource areas where the need is high. Keeping these gaps and cultural contexts in mind, I designed a curriculum that empowers the survivors themselves. It provides an innovative approach to psychosocial rehabilitation of survivors and gives them new options for their future. This curriculum was named Sampoornata and nurtured through Kolkata Sanved.

The curriculum explores the hidden and suppressed anger and guilt that lies deep within victims and helps them come to terms with themselves and their bodies. This is the key to psychosocial rehabilitation of victims of sexual violence (Chakraborty, 2019). Furthermore, the curriculum gives survivors a unique opportunity to interact with society. It also becomes a career option for them as performers, lobbyists, DMT practitioners, and peer educators.