This blog was set up as part of Action Research, funded by Longhouse, the bursary has now ended and I would like to thank all the people that have helped me through this period of research. If you want to keep up to date on what I am doing please visit my website

www.katiemayshipley.blogspot.co.uk

I'm going to end my blog with a short reflective essay I wrote as part of my course 'Developing Art for Health.'


Reflection

‘Scientific discovery is, and always will be, an inherently clumsy matter as scientists attempt to fit the round peg of humanity into the square hole of objectivity.’

I sit with a woman showing her different objects that are taken from a box, we engage in very light conversation where I’m asking her questions, most of which she understands but some confuse her. There is a pause in conversation, she plucks at her cardigan and tells me, for the fifth time, that she used to make her own clothes. I react with surprise, as I did the previous four times, then I think to myself ‘how could I ask this woman to evaluate this project?’ For a start she probably doesn’t even realise that this is a project, although it was explained to her when I walked in the room and we were introduced. There is every chance that she thinks I’m simply there to talk, or that I’m a member of staff at the home, or even a relative. If I asked her if she had enjoyed talking about the objects, there is a high chance that she would turn around and ask ‘what objects?’ I certainly couldn’t ask her to rate out of ten how she felt before, during and after our conversation.

What I could do is comment on how she smiled whilst we talked and she reminisced about the past. I could tell you about how she dressed in her Sunday best to come to the table to talk to me and how she kept a keen eye on her mug of coffee, grabbing it quickly when she thought others might take it away. I could write about how she was much more focussed when we came in and delivered a Christmas Pomander activity, much more able to follow the conversation that was related to the activity she was doing and much happier when she left the table knowing that she had accomplished something.

What I don’t know is how much she smiles on the days that I don’t come in to talk. I don’t know how often she talks about making her own clothes on every other day and I don’t know what she is like after I’ve gone. Is she happier after an activity, or conversation, or is she happier after sitting quietly for a couple of hours? I am unable to compare her behaviour in the way that care home staff or regular visitors could. It would be interesting to see the results of Dementia Care Mapping with this woman. Comparing the amount of times she smiles when she is discussing objects from the museum to when she is sat watching television, or eating her lunch. Then we could see what effect, if any, that the activities are having on her and if it is improving her well-being in the way that we had hoped. By observation we could do this without confusing her with questions that she might not understand, without giving her a task that she may be in fear of failing. The results probably will not tell the scientists with accuracy that arts and health projects definitely help all people with dementia, but we still will have learnt something and more importantly the woman will end the project with the same positive attitude that I see every time someone takes the time to talk to her.

*Shenk, D. (2003, p.245) The Forgetting London, Flamingo.