Polyvagal Flip Chart by Deb Dana 
 
It would be difficult to overstate how important polyvagal theory (PVT) has become in our understanding and treatment of trauma. The theory, first introduced by behavioural neuroscientist, Stephen Porges in 1994, describes how the autonomic nervous system responds to experiences and can be regulated/dysregulated via three pathways of the vagal nerve system. Although hugely valuable for trauma educators, support workers and therapists, PVT is a complex theory to understand and teach, and it is sometimes difficult to see how to make it work in practice. Deb Dana has made all of that much easier through her wonderful polyvagal resources, the latest of which is the Polyvagal Flip Chart.
 
The flip chart is a visual aid to use with therapy clients. The free-standing design allows the therapist to display diagrams and minimal text about the theory and its application to clients, while accessing explanatory notes on the back. Psychoeducation is such a valuable empowering aspect of trauma recovery and this tool makes it an interactive experience, a sharing of information which clients can use to make sense of their experiences in the moment or while recalling events that have been troubling them. I have used a similar flip chart about the impact of trauma The Living Legacy of Trauma Flip Chart by Janina Fisher (PESI) and seen it transform people’s understanding of their symptoms and behaviour. It’s amazing the relief people can experience when they realise there is a scientific explanation for why it has been so difficult for them to “pull themselves together”.
 
The Polyvagal Flipchart can help to take that process to the next level, enabling clients to understand the speed at which the nervous system responds to threat and engagement (and how it is outside conscious control), why threat responses differ and how social engagement can help with regulation. Using the chart in sessions can help clients identify and work with their own habitual responses. It also helps clients understand the link between trauma and physical symptoms such as digestive problems - so many trauma survivors experience chronic digestive disorders. Personal profile maps can help people work out their own triggers and glimmers – triggers being the cues for danger and glimmers the moments of safety and connection. Triggers are often easy to identify as they tend to be why the client comes for therapy but they may be less aware of their glimmers and resources.  Identifying these can make clients aware of their resources in times of need. There’s also a version of the map for children and a time and tone map to help chart a client’s state throughout a session or during an experience.
 
Like all resources, it is important to become very familiar with the flipchart before introducing it to clients. It can take a while to feel confident with the content as it is so complex, but an additional chart on recognising the symptoms relating to different states is a really helpful addition. Of all the information and resources available on polyvagal theory, I would rank this one highly. It’s definitely a valuable addition to a therapist’s toolkit.

Sheila Lavery

Riley the Brave's Sensational Senses: Help for Sensory and Emotional Challenges by Jessica Sinarski, illustrated by Zachary Kline

This book is part of a series featuring Riley the Brave – a little bear with big feelings. In this story Riley is finding it difficult to deal with all the different sensations around him and struggles to make sense of his feelings. Sometimes it all gets too much and Riley gets angry and shouts at people, because his senses cannot cope. 

The joy of this story is that everyone around Riley recognises that when this happens he is feeling overwhelmed and in need of kindness and understanding. The other animals support Riley to learn how to make sense of his senses and figure out things to do to help him feel safe. The book also touches gently on the big feelings of being different, and through relationships helps Riley understand that everyone has different sensory experiences and needs.

The book has simple, fun, colourful illustrations that will help engage children in thinking about their sensory system. Included is an information section for grown-ups with useful explanations and practical tools. This book would help parents and professionals to make a sensational plan to support a child to feel safe and in control, and to build resilience for when things don’t go as planned. 

I would highly recommend this book, not only to those supporting children with sensory sensitivities. All children can at times feel sensory overload so this book is for all.

Claire Slocombe - mum, teacher

Can't Not Won't: A Story About A Child Who Couldn't Go To School by Eliza Fricker

Can’t Not Won’t is an account of a family’s experience of navigating the education system with their child who has found the school environment so distressing, that they could not attend.

The title caught my attention because I am aware that there is often an assumption that a child is choosing not to attend, that they just don’t want to go.


This book is written in what I would describe as ‘comic book’ style with very few words and simple illustrations. This unexpected style for such a serious subject made it easy to read and truly accessible. I read the first part in one sitting as I couldn’t put it down. It is a straightforward honest account of this family’s experience and that is what made it powerful. The combination of words and pictures helped me ‘get it’ without having to re-read parts (something I find myself doing with more formal texts). 

As a teacher, this book allowed me to view a fuller picture of a family’s experience in their interactions with school. I recognised words and phrases which education professionals use, perhaps without awareness of the impact they have. The author made it seem like I was walking through the experiences with her and her family. It also prompted me to reflect on my own beliefs about what I regard as a good day for children struggling within the school environment. It challenges the often-heard phrase that it is ‘good enough just to be in school’ as if making it over the threshold is the win. 

I also read this as a parent and grandparent who has had experience of navigating the school system attempting to ensure my neurodiverse bairns’ needs were accommodated. The author very clearly illustrates how difficult and all-consuming this experience can be for all family members. 

There is also a short, jargon free guidance section which I would recommend readers go back to later. Let the impact of the sketches sink in first. I waited a few weeks. I was not ready to read a more formal style after the impact of the ‘straight to the point’ message of the author’s drawings. This section provides useful information, particularly for those new to teaching or this subject. The Afterword from the author provides a sense of hope, that there is another way.

Alison Todd - Mum, Gran, Teacher.

The Social Distance Between Us: How Remote Politics Wrecked Britain by  Darren McGarvey 


I've just finished reading this book.
Please read it.
Nothing else has given me so much hope that we can transform society into something more compassionate and more equal.
I might just read it again.



Real wordsmiths like Darren McGarvey only come along once in a generation. He can craft a sentence the way Delia Smith can craft a soufflé - and (let's imagine eating a Delia Smith soufflé) when you take a bite, the centre is even better than it looks on the surface. 

At the centre of Darren McGarvey's beautiful sentences is a message we would all do well to taste and consume: a lack of proximity to one another is the rot that is destroying our society. The optimistic flip side is this: we need a new politics based on relationships and community. 

"The Social Distance Between Us" is transformative by making this radical change feel within our reach. We can do this. We have to do this.

Professor Helen Minnis

A Book of Feelings By Amanda McCardie
 
This story introduces us to a loving, safe family. We are guided through everyday situations that our children may come across which might seem so small, and yet feel so big. It starts from a place of safety, thinking about happiness, and then moves through the daily lives of the children within the family to explore the intricacies of other feelings that they and their friends might come across.
 

​There is a lovely journey through how one child’s underlying feelings might, in turn, lead to someone else’s feelings changing. There is a sprinkling of humour, which helps to give little light-hearted interruptions to some of the more difficult feelings being explored. The beautiful illustrations really help to bring colour to the words, through pictures and speech bubbles.
 
The book helps to think about how people might look or seem a certain way on the surface but be feeling something quite different on the inside. The family in the story give safe boundaries to think about the nuances of why events can cause us to feel a certain way.
 
What is also particularly helpful about this book, is the indexing of different emotions at the end, allowing this to become a resource to revisit at significant times. There are lots of examples – in the story and in the illustrations - which help to make the key themes relevant to lots of children.
 
A lovely story using a gentle flow of rupture, repair, a bit of humour, and real examples of growing up!
 
Emma Shedlow
Occupational Therapist, Trainer.

Up and Down Mum 
illustrated by Summer Macon. 
 
 
For the nameless child narrator in the story, living with Mum is like being on a roller coaster. When Mum is happy, it feels like she can do anything. When she is sad, “it feels like she is in a deep dark hole and nothing can make her feel better.”



​Imagine what it would be like for a young child living with a parent like that and having no one to support her through it. That is why books like this are important. Children know if it’s in a story it must be real for someone else other than just them and so they are not alone.
 
Mum in the story has bipolar disorder, but the child’s experience is likely to be similar if a parent has other mental health challenges characterised by fluctuating moods such as ADHD or a personality disorder for example, making the book’s application broader than the blurb suggests. I reviewed the book with my granddaughter who lives with an “up and down” parent so I was sensitive to the impact the story would have on her. Some of it resonated with her; inevitably some did not align with her lived experience, but I think it helped for her to read it and share the content.
 
This is what Amy had to say:
“I like the pictures and how she (the illustrator) draws the people. I like that the mum ends up being like other mums in the end. I was interested in the story, it was fun to read and I thought it felt quite happy. The mum’s emotions are a bit extreme and she has to go into hospital to help her control her emotions. I think that’s a good thing that she gets help with them. I like the fact that the boy likes spending time with his mum and grandad – he wouldn’t want to have to choose between them. He is embarrassed by his mum but he loves her. He loves her both ways – before her emotions are fixed and after. It’s a bit embarrassing that’s all, but he’s used to it. The mum wanted to be a good mum. I think she was glad when her emotions got fixed. The boy calls her his “up and down mum” and that’s how he makes sense of it. Some days she’s quiet and sad and sometimes lively. She is like a normal person but more extreme.”
 
The book highlights the importance of having support. Although family support is something that Amy understands and recognises as critical she is not familiar with the concept of therapeutic support (the child and Mum in the story see a family therapist). Neither does she have a mum who can ask for help, and that is very difficult for a child to understand. Also, Amy doesn’t have the supportive friendship group that the child in the book has. In essence, the book presents a “best possible scenario” of a child living with a mentally ill parent, which is helpful in flagging up what support is available for families but quite sad for children who are powerless to access any of it. These descriptions of support services are the parts from which I felt my granddaughter disengaged. Reflecting on this left me feeling quite sad for her and other children who are denied critical aspects of healthy childhood that their peers take for granted. Thankfully, Amy does have family who can help her think psychologically about what it is like having an “up and down mum”.  As Amy says, “It helps the child to have his grandad when his mum is not well and they can talk about things together. I am glad to have my nana and grandad.” Young children are egocentric; they think that they are the cause of everything. To have a parent who spends her days in bed can leave a child feeling unworthy of care; having a manic or intolerant parent can mean a child might imagine she is the cause of her parent’s problems. Open, honest an age-appropriate conversations about a parent’s mental health can create greater understanding and compassion in the relationship and relieve the burden of blame and shame that many children feel. In all of these areas this book would be a useful conversation opener and guide.
 
It is worth acknowledging the glorious illustrations. This is a lovely looking book, bright, detailed and really engaging for kids. I would have liked to have seen some more realistic representations of what this child lives with. I think that might have felt more real for child readers. Pictures can speak volumes, we see lots of the positives in this book so it would have been good for the illustrator to have sneaked in some of the mess that kids could look at or ignore if it all felt too much. Amy and I were able to discuss some of the facial expressions but beyond that there were no signifiers of a chaotic home life.
 
The final word goes to Amy, who probably speaks for most children when she says that, “The boy loves it when his mum is fine but he loves her anyway. We just love our mums however they are, although it’s nice when they are well. I like it best when my mum is in a good mood.”

Reviewed by Amy (age 8) and her NanaUp and Down Mum

Little Grey Fox written by Nikki Linfield illustrated by Bettine Harris and edited by Robert Spottswood

​There are some books which stay with you because of the emotional content and because the truth in a story shared is so meaningful. Little Grey Fox is one of those.

The author, Nikki Linfield’s career path shows her dedication to working with children and young people. She is an Art Therapist and DDP practitioner.
​Nikki’s story of Little Grey Fox is beautifully illustrated by Bettine Harris.

The illustrations, like the words, convey feelings in the story wonderfully. The story takes readers and listeners through heart break and slow, gentle healing. It’s the story of a journey and one of hope.
 
Little Grey Fox cannot stay with his birth family. He moves families and shame grows within him. He then moves to the Red Fox family and they begin to understand each other. Slowly, with time, acceptance and growing trust, sense is made of Little Grey Fox’s story as it is told through thoughts and feelings. Nikki Linfield’s skills in DDP shine through in her story telling.
 
The book is designed to be read together. There is a ‘last note from ‘Little Grey Fox’ at the end in which Little Grey Fox writes:

If it does not feel exactly right, then I hope you can talk to your Grown-Up and tell them how it is for you.’
 
A beautifully told story which I certainly will share with many families I support because I know they will find so many parts of it to connect with.
 
Dr Amelia Taylor
Child and Educational Psychologist
Theraplay Practitioner and Trainer
Lifecycles Psychology.

The Strange and Curious Guide to Trauma by Sally Donovan

From a personal viewpoint as an adoptive parent, coming to an understanding of the potential impact of trauma on a child’s emotional and social development was crucial if I was to meet my children’s needs. 

Subsequently, the desire to somehow share that understanding with my children and help them appreciate where their behaviours may be coming from also became a goal.  If only this skilfully told story by Sally Donovan had been around a few years ago!
 

Cleverly illustrated and formatted, Donovan’s latest story, aimed at 8 to 12 year olds, provides the perfect vehicle through which to gently explain and highlight the key concepts around trauma and attachment.  From Wendy the ‘wonky’ carrot to Courtney Cortisol, a number of likeable characters are used playfully yet also as representations of serious aspects in trauma-informed approaches. They are weaved through the story of Ordinary Jo as we witness how he reacts to his encounter with a Baboon on Baboon Tuesday.  Indeed it is the careful blending of the actual words (trauma, adrenaline, amygdala etc.) with characterisations and names which makes this book so accessible and powerful. 

​Trauma is such an overused word yet a concept which is often not fully understood in all its complexity.  Here it is not disguised nor oversimplified, rather it is broken down tactfully and presented in chunks which can be easily understood by young people.  Use of the correct terminology, albeit in an age-appropriate manner, is important if we are to begin the process of fully informing our young people about their brains.
 
Donovan also takes us back to early childhood as she describes how babies’ brains develop.  Lego is used as a metaphor here in one of the many nods to children and young people’s realities which make this story so relatable.  Images support the writing extremely well and there is clever use of fonts to reinforce key messages.  There are ‘remembering boxes’ and bullet points as well as a comprehensive and succinctly expressed list of possible behaviours of trauma-experienced children. 
 
Undoubtedly, children and adults alike will learn much from this short story into our ‘inside life’.  As Donovan states, we are ‘team human’ and it is about time that we realise that learning about trauma is indeed a ‘superpower’.  

Reviewed by Christine Hadfield

‘All Are Welcome’ by Alexander Penfold and Suzanne Kaufman
 
I found ‘All Are Welcome’ to be a joyous book celebrating everything wonderful about being an individual in a simple and fun format. 

It tackles inclusion and diversity in a child friendly manner following a day in the life of school class, making it easy for a young reader to relate and understand the similarities in their own day to day life.

My child loved the bright illustrations and fun jumping off the pages celebrating our different cultures, abilities, and backgrounds whilst recognising that we all have shared experiences and needs that bind us together.

We loved reading the book and shouting out ‘All are Welcome Here’ at the end of each page. It encouraged talking about why it’s good have our own special story behind what makes us unique and why having a different story from our friends helps children experience new things, be more adventurous, learn from each other, and embrace positivity through diversity. 

‘All Are Welcome’ is a fun, colorful and happy book, and my child’s current favorite book to show friends.
 
 Jane Cooper

''My name is not Refugee’ by Kate Milner
 
Trying to explain and answer questions from children about war and how it affects ordinary people can be difficult, I want to be honest without over burdening their young minds. 

‘My name is not Refugee’ allowed me to talk about the refugee crisis in a simple, easy to understand format that allowed the children to empathise, think, and discuss questions raised in the book without becoming too upsetting for young minds.

The story is based around a mother explaining to her child that they needed to leave their home, it shows highlights the difficulties in leaving behind loved ones and friends through a child eye’s as well as the practicalities, and then their journey to find safety.

It is handled wonderfully by the author with direct simple language and questions poised to the reader to help think over how they may feel in that situation. 

The illustrations are beautiful and reflect the hardships and danger faced without overwhelming the reader, my older child (aged 8) responded to the illustrations with observations on how the little family in the book would feel based off drawings and my younger child (aged 6) on the practicalities raised in the questions posed as we went through the story. 

The book itself handles a difficult, tragic subject in a sensitive manner and can be understood on different levels opening a wider conversation but also on the basic level bringing humanity back into the word refugee. 

I would recommend this book to anyone looking for a way to answer little one’s question in a sensitive, simple, and empathetic manner.

Jane Cooper

​The Simple Guide to Sensitive Boys: How to nurture children and avoid trauma, by Betsy de Thierry. 
 
I love small clearly written and accessible guides, especially about heavy or difficult subjects. Betsy de Thierry’s books usually fit that brief and this one is no exception. Sensitive Boys landed on my desk at a time when I was working with a sensitive boy who felt he had to put on a helmet and wield a toy sword before he left the therapy room, and I had been reading All our Sons by Allan Schore (2016).
 
De Thierry is clearly aware of Schore’s research, which evidences that boys - not just the sensitive ones - need more nurture than most of us give them. Boys are born more stressed and harder to soothe than girls. It is more difficult for them to attach and their brains and regulatory capacities develop at a slower pace than girls. Common sense would then suggest that we have to lavish them with nurture to avoid traumatizing them and yet our culture is one of “manning up” and telling hurt children that, “big boys don’t cry”. We punish, shame and humiliate our boys for their neurobiological vulnerabilities in the hope that it will toughen them up for a cruel world and then wonder why we find ourselves in the grip of toxic masculinity on a global scale. Clearly, as this book suggests, something has to shift!
 
With extra sensitive boys the problem worsens. De Thierry likens the sensitivity of some children to being “skinless”. It’s a wonderful metaphor for highlighting how tiny scratches can wound. I’m thinking of boys who cannot touch another child when lining up at school without feeling picked on, how falling in the playground can make them feel like the whole school day is unbearable, or contact sports send them into fight or flight. Add to that the sensory challenges, bullying and misunderstanding of children who are neurodiverse and we begin to see how some children who do not appear to have a trauma history can display symptoms of trauma. “But there is no trauma history,” is something I hear from school staff regularly when I do trauma training. Understanding how feeling things deeply, hurts deeply, can help us make sense of children’s responses to experiences that often seem normal.
 
This book delivers a lot for such a slim guide. There is information on the early years and the importance of managing children’s fears and anxieties instead of leaving them to deal with the tough stuff on their own.
 
The content is enhanced by short stories from sensitive boys about their own experiences and invitations to stop and reflect on some of our own perceptions of boys and ourselves in relation to them. As expected with de Thierry there are references to the power of shame and a lot on the importance of attachment and relational connection in terms of resilience building, soothing and regulation.
 
We are reminded of the number of men who suffer depression and anxiety yet never ask for help, perhaps because they feel to display such vulnerability is weakness. Sadly, we are also informed about the high rates of suicide in people over the age of 15 years, 78 per cent of whom are male.  The author encourages us to become agents of change by teaching emotional literacy and encouraging nurturing connections with boys and men. Most of all in this book, however, there is a sense of hope and an urge to believe in children, to support their psychosocial development and build their confidence. We are invited to help our children redefine the concept of masculinity, and to support them to use their gifts, gentleness, strengths and intelligence in ways that they can feel proud to be a boy and safe to live in the world.

Sheila Lavery

Therapeutic Parenting Jumbo Cards by Sarah Neish & Sarah Dillon
Initially I wondered about the use of cards for adults but the Therapeutic Parenting Jumbo cards are fabulous.  They are designed for parents or carers who are using therapeutic parenting techniques and for professionals who are introducing others to this style of parenting. 



​These cards compliment the book ‘A quick guide to therapeutic parenting’ by Sarah Neish but can be used independently.  I would say, however, that a knowledge of therapeutic parenting would be beneficial as the cards act as useful reminders of concepts, principles and parenting techniques, but do not provide in-depth explanations or theory.

The 56 cards come in a sturdy box and are a lovely quality.  They cover a wide range of issues and topics and each card features a statement or quote from Sarah Neish’s book.  They have a cartoon picture on one side with a statement or quote relating to an element of therapeutic parenting, then on the flip side there is a more detailed but concise explanation. 

Each card is numbered and belongs one of 9 categories which are outlined in the useful booklet which comes with the cards.  Another useful and thoughtful addition is that each category is also given a separate colour, so can be easily found in the pack if you are looking for cards pertaining to a specific topic.

I like the fact that difficult issues are tackled such as why others, including family and professionals, can often sit in judgement (Category 3 ‘Ignorance Is Not Bliss: The Unhelpful Others’) or that progress is sometimes hard to see and measure (Category 6 ‘Where Did That Come From?! Progress Isn’t Always Linear).   Encouraging parenting tips are provided within each category and often come at the end of each concise explanation.

The cards are a useful tool for those times when the going is tough.  It is during times of stress when something easy to access is needed to help us to hold onto what we have learnt and why therapeutic parenting really works. You could choose some cards pertinent to what you and your child are experiencing and have them close to hand to give you encouragement.  They may also be useful to help others understand certain behaviours or difficulties a child might be experiencing. There are many different ways these cards could be used and there are suggestions in the booklet. One thing Sarah Neish points out is that these cards are for adults and I would agree with her that you may not want your child to read them as it could induce negative feelings such as shame.

Although the cards are designed for use within the field of developmental trauma they could be used for any parents who want to adopt a therapeutic approach and could be useful for children with developmental disorders such as Autism Spectrum Disorder and Attention Deficit Disorder where therapeutic parenting can really help.

I know that I will be using these cards in my work with parents and carers to help them think about some of the more difficult concepts and would recommend them for anyone working with or caring for children who have experienced developmental trauma. 
​
Lesley Bell
Therapeutic Social Worker

My Intense Emotions Handbook: Manage Your Emotions and Connect Better with Others
by Sue Knowles, Bridie Gallagher and Hannah Bromley. 
Illustrated by Emmeline Pidgen

This is a great book. The authors condense huge amounts of beneficial information into just over 200 easy-to-read pages.

​From the outset, the tone is set for what the reader can expect; wonderful concepts introduced and revisited from chapter to chapter to build on what went before or stand alone. Concepts such as emotions are not good or bad, they just are, the importance of feeling OK in our own bodies and why emotions are vital and helpful.
Notice the why here? This book not only delivers on understanding intense emotions and learning how to manage them but why the authors make their many suggestions. In the process, I think this empowers the reader.
 
Strategies on managing emotions and relationships are abundant. Lots of practical tips for people who wish to ‘do’ something, like practicing mentalizing by watching a foreign language movie clip to see if I can work out what a character is intending, thinking and feeling, with the idea of staying curious rather than making assumptions. There is also information and explanations on letting feelings just ‘be’ and I particularly loved the chapter about riding your emotions. The authors interweave humour and often use personal examples to emphasise a point. This works, as it shows them not in the sole role of educator but as humans experiencing intense emotions too.
 
Aimed at young people aged 14+, I personally think anyone who wants to understand the role of trauma, their relationships, attachment and how their own past influences their emotions and responses to them, will find something helpful in this book.
 
Review by Jane Burton
Counsellor. Trainer.

Superparenting: Boost your therapeutic parenting through 10 transformative steps by Dr Amber Elliott. 
 
The Super parenting approach involves learning and using Empathic Behaviour Management (EBM) to parent with empathy and connection while still trying to guide children towards more acceptable ways of communicating their needs. To understand EBM you’ll have to read the book but basically think Dan Hughes, Dan Siegel and even take yourself back 20 years to Caroline Archer and Christine Gordon, who set us all on the right track for therapeutically parenting survivors of childhood neglect and abuse.
 
Parents familiar with attuned empathic parenting know only too well that relationship is the key to regulating and repairing childhood hurts and that traditional behavioural management strategies are ineffective at best and more often than not, re-traumatising. In reality, seasoned adopters may be so familiar with the concept and the daily practice of therapeutic parenting that we forget it’s not the norm for most other parents or indeed many adults who engage with children. Regular reports from my granddaughter about, “what happened in school today” indicate that, sadly, shame-inducing, punitive reward and consequence approaches are still alive and well! Reflecting on that, I wondered what Amber Elliot could bring to an already well laden table of therapeutic parenting books…
 
Super parenting is so called for a couple of reasons. The first and most obvious one is that children with trauma histories need parents who have super-sized capacity in terms of understanding, empathy, psychological mindedness, resilience, tolerance, advocacy, etc. For me it also taps into the notion that as adopters and carers we are often expected to be superhuman, to “turn children’s lives around”, to do it quickly,  and without any psychological cost to ourselves. Thankfully, Amber Elliott recognises that our own stuff – our childhood experiences, attachment styles and cultural conditioning – can get in the way of the best intentions when emotions run high and the parenting rewards are few. She uses a tortoise and hare analogy based on fast and slow life history theory to explain how we act and react as parents because we parents have histories too you know and they are definitely going to get triggered by our kids. She identifies the need for awareness, self-acceptance, curiosity and compassion when dealing with our own shame and mistakes. This balance of meeting our own needs as well as our children’s is an important and often understated part of the parenting role. It was good to see the author give it the attention it deserved. Good also to see shame get addressed – it’s a big player in our family dynamics and is often avoided in parenting conversations, which probably says something about how society as a whole uses shame.
 
Dr Elliott considers the main obstacles to children being motivated by rewards and consequences: regulation of stress responses, poor impulse control, lack of trust, the power and control dynamic, and shame, being key. For readers familiar with DDP and the Dan Hughes PACE/PLACE approach, this will not be new territory but Dr Elliott presents the content in a helpful and logical way. Using the 10-step approach she explores family situational examples to illustrate how the relentless everyday stuff can wear you down and how things can get worse when we overreact or rely on praise, reward charts or relational deprivation for example. Best of all, there’s helpful suggestions that could turn around even really challenging situations.

Regulation of self and child, minimising shame while maintaining connection and boundaries are essential to the success of Superparenting. Parents (and teachers) often wonder how we can maintain boundaries and be flexible enough to meet the needs of the child. Flexibility does not mean giving in, it’s more about bending without breaking and that’s why we need to keep our own self- regulation and intersubjectivity skills in top condition. Without flexibility we find ourselves engaging in control battles that frankly we rarely win. It’s also helpful to remember that parenting is a marathon. The author does not offer any magic bullet approaches or fixes of any kind. I say that with relief, not as a criticism.
 
Superparenting proposes 10 helpful steps to transformation, while acknowledging that transformation can take time and can look different for everyone. It allows for the fact that we will all screw up (again and again) and that’s okay, relationships are built through rupture and repair - as long as the parents model repair – another reason to befriend our shame!  And, of course, there is a place for rewards in all family relationships. We all need our efforts rewarded and the author gives examples of inspiring and hopeful relational rewards that can work to motivate children and young people without the usual overtones of power and control.
 
At over 200 pages there is lot of reading here for busy parents and Amber Elliott is aware of this. She bookends the content with reminders to use it as a guide rather than a cover-to-cover must-read.  I like the suggestion that parents keep using techniques of their own that work as long as they align with the five-point nuts and bolts checklist. (Obviously, some techniques might look like they work when children are young because they secure obedience, but fear and shame can do that too). The super-short checklist neatly reminds us of what therapeutic approaches look like. All in all, I think this is a valuable text for new parents, or more experienced parents who have discovered their current strategies might need reviewing. It would also have real value for groups exploring and sharing parenting approaches.
 
Sheila Lavery
Adoptive parent, art psychotherapist and trauma educator

Michael Rosen’s Sad Book - illustrated by Quentin Blake
 
Reading the first page of this wonderful and tragic book, I felt as though I had taken a punch to the gut.

​Below a grinning portrait of author Michael Rosen reads the words, ‘This is me being sad.’ I read this book for the first time whilst on sick leave with anxiety and depression. After months of plodding on and ‘putting on a face’, these words resonated.

Reading on, there is a rawness to the writing; understandable as driving the subject matter is the death of the author’s son, Eddie, from meningitis. This is not the Michael Rosen of ‘Bear Hunt’ fame and not at all what I expected, but it is awesome and terrible all at once. The book speaks simply and truthfully about the maelstrom of emotions that come with bereavement. Rosen’s language is accessible to kids without being patronising to adults.

Quentin Blake’s illustrations lean towards a slightly older audience than my children (2 and 5) and my youngest was a little disturbed by the haunting, monochromatic portrait depicting ‘What makes me most sad’. However, they really do bring the text to life and would make excellent prompts for a discussion on recognising emotions or the different forms sadness can take.

​This book should have a place in almost every home or classroom. In a one-to-one setting it could support children dealing with grief, loss or confusing emotions; in a classroom or other group setting, it could help introduce and build on emotional intelligence. And for adults, it serves as a reminder that ‘sad’ can encompass so many different thoughts and feelings; and that it’s ok to feel them.

​Jocelyn Skaaning

​Goldilocks (A Hashtag Cautionary Tale) by Jeanne Willis, illustrated by Tony Ross
 
Three bears, porridge - you may think you know the drill; but this is Goldilocks for the SoMe generation. Driven by the need for more and more ‘likes’, Goldilocks becomes increasingly reckless and ultimately, her need for online recognition becomes her undoing.

Although it’s written in rhyme and retells a familiar story, the text feels modern, helped in no small part by the quirky illustrations.

This is the third in Willis and Ross’s series promoting internet safety and while my two (aged 2 and 5) were a bit bemused by the references, this book would doubtless be a hit with slightly older children keen to navigate the online world.

Both writer and illustrator are award winning and this engaging book showcases their talents.

My one gripe is that the moral seemed to be more ‘watch what you post’ and less ‘breaking and entering is a crime’ - but nonetheless, this is an excellent starting point for the inevitable and necessary conversations about staying safe online. 

Jocelyn Skaaning

The Nervous Knight: A Story About Overcoming Worries and Anxiety by Anthony Lloyd Jones

This book is about a knight who is rarely seen without their shiny armour. A protection from anything bad that might happen: a fall, being taken away by a dragon, spilled ice cream (sound familiar?).




​It is a story of building friendships and overcoming anxieties through connecting with others. It is also a story which has inclusivity at its heart. The knight’s pronoun is ‘they’, and a whole spectrum of human beings is included in the book.  

This is a book that will allow parents, carers and trusted adults and their little ones to relate to the knight in their struggle to deal with anxiety, and how it can manifest in various physical ways.

The knight, alongside their knight friends, navigates through not being able to control ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING and that not knowing what’s going to happen next does not mean the worst thing will indeed happen.

It’s a story of friendship where the knight learns to trust others, and the book gives the reader strategies and ideas they can take forward in real life.
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A brilliant book, with plenty of opportunities to lead discussions and questions for your own little ones and with resources at the end of the book to support further learning and reflection. 

The Devil You know: Stories of Human Cruelty and Compassion by Dr Gwen Adshead and Eileen Horne 

I have a passionate aversion to violence and cruelty.  Before holding Adshead’s book in my hand I would look away, change the channel, on anything related to cruelty – be it news, educational or (so called) entertainment.

So, it more than raised eyebrows at home that I was embarking on this book.  But why?
I had come to know of Gwen Adshead’s through her passion for attachment and her belief that ‘no psychiatrist should be without a working knowledge of attachment theory’*.  I instinctively felt curious.  But the word ‘compassion’ in the title was the deal breaker – a sense I could be safe to explore what I fear.

Gwen Adshead is a Forensic Psychiatrist and Psychotherapist.  The book is built on the case studies of 11 of her patients from across Broadmoor, the prison system, and the community.  In it Adshead is as much someone who walks alongside her patients as they tell and make sense of their story, as she is their therapist.  It is readable – in a language sense, with the input of co-author Eileen Horne.

For Adshead, the study of attachments in relationships has been a major influence on her thinking about human behaviour, and in this book the thread of childhood attachments in relationships and their association with later violence weaves through some of the cases.

The book seeks that we open a window on compassion and close the one on condemnation.  Adshead is very conscious not to fall foul of being accused of being soft on perpetrators.  To think so is to miss the point.  She advocates that as a society we can and should learn from their stories, to promote measures that encourage pro-social attitudes and reduce childhood adversity and making a powerful case for mental health services well before the point of crisis. 

The book was worth the emotional investment. Not one to be galloped through but contemplated with compassion, on how such behaviours make us feel about the perpetrators, and what it is for us all to be human.

Maggie McManus
Development Manager, Scottish Attachment in Action
(All views my own)

*https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/the-british-journal-of-psychiatry/article/security-of-mind-20-years-of-attachment-theory-and-its-relevance-to-psychiatry/F730F989CACEF1AB43581D309616547A

The ESSENCE of Autism and Other Neurodevelopmental Conditions.  Rethinking Co-Morbidities, Assessment, and Intervention by Christopher Gillberg (2021)
Published by Jessica Kingsley.
 
Physically, this is a small book, a mere 141 pages which can be read quickly.  Yet, despite its size, the information contained within is of HUGE importance.  Its huge because the ESSENCE approach challenges how health systems are currently organised for children, and how professionals understand, identify and support children who present with varying conditions and/or challenges. 


So, what is ESSENCE?  Professor Gillberg outlines that ESSENCE stands for Early Symptomatic Syndromes Eliciting Neurodevelopmental Clinical Examinations.  ESSENCE refers to a group of neurodevelopmental disorders, which includes the commonly known Autism and ADHD and other lesser-known conditions such as Avoidant Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID) and Speech & Language Disorders, amongst others.  In short, ESSENCE focuses on children who are showing symptoms and concerns with some aspect of their development, such as social interaction, communication, attention, behaviour, mood, sleep and feeding etc.  ESSENCE reminds us that diagnosis is complicated and can be misleading.  Children can show different symptoms and concerns at different times, and these can have different implications at different times.  For example, symptoms of one diagnosis or the other could easily be identified at the beginning of a child’s life but then a different diagnosis could become more salient later on, when the child is older.  For example, a 4-year-old could be deemed to primarily have autism, only to then grow older and better fit the criteria for ADHD.  A key point from the book is that children may fit different diagnostic boxes at different times in their development.  Children keep growing and changing, which means that assessment/diagnosis needs to be dynamic rather than fixed at any particular point in time.  As Gillberg writes, ‘Making a single definitive diagnosis in early childhood is always wrong’.

Gillberg sets out the lifetime prognosis of ESSENCE, examining the common co-occurrence between conditions and the symptoms they present.  He presents these conditions in a coherent context, using a holistic approach, rather than the usual isolated approach where conditions are assessed for in isolation.  It is common to see health services organised so that there is a pathway or clinic that assesses for ‘autism’, or ‘ADHD’ or ‘attachment difficulties’.   Gillberg shows that these separate single-issue approaches do not fit the evidence which tells us that it is more common for conditions to co-occur.  For example, if a child is autistic, they are more likely to also have ADHD.  

Gillberg sets out what is known about the two diagnosable attachment disorders: Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) and Disinhibited Social Engagement Disorder (DSED).  Of note, to those of us working with care experienced, fostered and adopted children, is Gillberg’s point that ‘virtually all children with RAD/DSED have symptoms of other ESSENCE problems, sometimes even to the point of meeting diagnostic criteria for conditions such as speech and language disorder, autism, and/or ADHD’.  Gillberg recommends that a child who presents with RAD/DSED symptoms always needs comprehensive neuropsychiatric examination and evaluation.  This fits with my clinical experience that we need to take a broad lens when assessing and understanding children with complex backgrounds and presentations.  Child development is key.  A narrow focus on only trauma and/or attachment runs the risk of missing important neurodevelopmental issues. 

Gillberg suggests that a diagnostic process should not just say whether a child fits a specific diagnosis but instead impart a comprehensive description of the child’s difficulties and strengths.  This then forms the basis for support, interventions and treatment.  Also, good assessment and diagnostic processes need a joined-up and long-term approach which utilises the expertise of different professionals. 
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I believe that the ESSENCE approach is much-needed when understanding and supporting adopted, fostered, and other children who are living in complicated circumstances.  ESSENCE is crucial for everyone who has a stake in truly understanding what children need to grow and thrive and identify support that will make a difference.  ESSENCE knowledge is necessary for social workers, health professionals, teachers, therapists and so on.  This book is a crucial read (and a quick one!) for people who commission and organise health services for children, and, it could be argued, adults too.  As Gillberg succinctly writes, ‘ESSENCE must be considered a public health problem given that it affects at least 1 in 10 families.’
 
Review by:
Dr Helen Rodwell, Consultant Clinical Psychologist
Co-author of: Parenting with Theraplay; An Introduction to Autism for Adoptive and Foster Families; CoramBaaf Good Practice Guide on Supporting the Mental Health of Looked After and Adopted Children. 

Play Is The Way: Child development, early years and the future of Scottish education. Edited Sue Palmer

This compact volume is a rich and engaging resource for educators, health professionals, policy makers and parents which sets out a comprehensive argument for establishing a relationship-centred and play-based education for Scotland’s under 7 year olds. Edited by Sue Palmer, who has gathered an impressive array of voices from education and health professions, the book summarises and expands the campaign of Upstart Scotland whose aims include establishing a statutory play-based ‘kindergarten stage’ for Scottish children and stressing the importance of play as a natural part of human development. 

Throughout the book, there is a thorough examination of existing Scottish guidance and legislation on early years education and care, and an overt frustration at the current mismatch between what is on paper and existing practice in nurseries and schools.
The reader will find the book divided into three sections.  The first considers ‘What we know about where we want to go’ and is a fascinating insight into the cultural and historical barriers in Scotland regarding the efficacy of play in early education.  The myth of early acceleration is skilfully outlined through examining the historical contexts that have brought about the persistent but unfounded belief that educating children as young as 4 or 5 years in the 3 Rs (Reading, wRiting and aRithmetic) is the most beneficial for later outcomes,  and that the stubborn suspicion of the validity of play is part of Scottish identity, proud of its early start to formal education. Psychological and neurobiological studies are set out to highlight how human brains are built from the bottom up ie gradually building connections on top of existing foundations of understanding so that incoming information has something to grasp onto.  Trying to accelerate this process by top-down pedagogy goes against the natural development of human brains yet the myth of starting early seems engrained not just in Scotland but throughout the UK.

Section two sets out to consider ‘How can we get to where we want to be?’ with real examples of existing projects leading the way and projected scenarios of what might be possible including harnessing the power of parents.  I was particularly drawn to the arguments for raising the status of the workforce in the early year’s arena and an emphasis on the relational experiences needed to build the foundations for literacy and numeracy before formal learning begins.  As a play therapist, I am delighted to read segments about the vital role of play for children’s social, physical and emotional development; that play is not just a fun way of learning cognitive concepts but is the fundamental language through which children first understand themselves and interact with the world.

The final section examines the wider context in which the authors’ arguments sit and the challenges ahead.  A prime block seems to be the persistence of the Scottish government to require formal assessment of P1 students (age 6 years) rather than moving towards more holistic assessments such as the Early Development Instrument (EDI) which considers social, emotional and physical developments in addition to cognitive and language developments. EDI is already used by other English-speaking countries such as Canada and Australia but has not (yet) found a place in UK education.

In the 2nd edition of this book (it had two reprints within a few months of being published in October 2020), there is a super additional chapter from Shaddai Tembo in which he challenges the often positive and idealised environment in early years settings which may be masking ongoing inequalities and not giving space for recognition of celebrating diversity in all its forms right from the start of a young child’s educational experience. Play, he argues, is a means by which young children can take flight into aspects of themselves that may be constrained in the culture of their setting.  A powerful read which comes from a standpoint of experience and compassion and is well worth a read on its own.
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The excellent reference bank at the end demonstrates the robustness of the research related to the topic of play in early years education and in itself provides a rich source of further reading.  Whilst stemming from Scotland and referring to particular cultural and historical aspects of early education in that country, the book is of equal importance to those of us working elsewhere in the United Kingdom.  I smiled when reading that a copy was sent to every Member of the Scottish Parliament for Christmas!  Bravo to the whole team who put this gem of a compendium together during the pandemic lockdown and are keeping the momentum going for appropriate and life-enhancing early education and care. 
 
Julie McCann, London
Former primary school teacher, BAPT Play Therapist, Theraplay Practitioner, Visiting Lecturer Roehampton University

Crafting Secular Ritual: A Practical Guide by Jeltje Gordon-Lennox. Foreword by Isabel Russo.

This book is an incredibly helpful resource for practising celebrants.  Although the author suggests readers leading ceremonies and rituals could easily skip Part 1, which provides a holistic appreciation of the history and meaning behind human rituals, I thoroughly recommend reading the book in its entirety before utilising the practical aspects as Part 1 really helps to understand how religion is not necessary as the framework for rituals and symbolic acts.  Whilst mysticism and "spiritual" elements have always been important aspects of human ritual, it is very helpful to be able to strip rituals and ceremonies to mark life events of their religious overtones, and explain to potential clients the ancient use of such and the benefit to our psyche of undertaking such rituals and how a secular ritual can be just as meaningful, impactful and creative as a religious ceremony.

The practical sections of the book are written in the same interesting and accessible way and really tie together the abstract and practical aspects of crafting rituals and ceremonies.  The inclusion of logical planning steps, safekeeping considerations, physical space logistics, checklists and practical examples relating to all the major life events is incredibly valuable for a practising celebrant and help break down the crafting of a ceremony into the various elements involved which makes the process less overwhelming for celebrant and client alike.  Similarly, if a client is put off by the idea of a complex ceremony, the book has helped me to introduce small and simple ritualistic elements and how to incorporate them into a more "traditional" event.  

Now I've read the whole book, I dip into the practical sections as I carry out my role - as well as the ideas for symbolism and ritual suggested by the author I've found my own creativity is stimulated, helping me to come up with fitting and personalised rituals for my clients, depending on the circumstances.  Crafting Secular Ritual has become a vital part of the toolbox I use as a practising funeral celebrant to help people move through the pain of losing a loved one in a way which is helpful for their long-term emotional and mental wellbeing.             
Jodie McCombie
Civil Funeral Celebrant

Tiny Spark of Hope: Healing Childhood Trauma in Adulthood by Kim Golding and Alexia Jones  

This is a very beautiful, vulnerable and brave story of healing.  Kim and Alexia together weave this story and the stories Kim writes through the therapy form the story within the story, bringing the process alive with imagery and narrative.

Alexia brings the ‘spark of hope’ with her as she seeks out Kim, a figure from her childhood who really saw her when others could not.  Kim holds this spark so carefully with her acceptance and her empathy and this part of their journey begins.

Alexia’s courage, openness and determination to do this journey flows through the pages.  She brings to life the ups and downs of the therapy journey and the realisation and eventual acceptance that we will not be ‘fixed’ by this journey.  I am so grateful to you, Alexia, for sharing your path with us and I have no doubt that this book will bring healing and connection for many who also walk a path that is similar to your own.

I recently heard Irving Yalom speak about his career and how important writing has always been to him.  He spoke about it being part of what helped him with his work and his desire to understand.  Kim’s art of narrative and desire to share what she has learnt feels to me that it resonates with my understanding of Yalom’s words about his writing.

Kim openly explores her hesitation with starting individual work with Alexia not having received a formal training in an individual psychotherapeutic approach.  She is encouraged to call on the DDP model to help inform her work, a model she is so very familiar with.  When I started to learn about DDP I was struck by how the work of Carl Rogers seemed to weave through all aspects of the model.  Dr. Dan Hughes had created a way of facilitating an environment where safety could be created between the therapist, the parent and the child.  An environment that could be gradually taken by the parent and the child back onto their own home.   Much like a blanket of empathy, unconditional positive regard and congruence for Carl Rogers or, in the language of DDP, Playfulness, Acceptance, Curiosity and Empathy  (PACE).

Kim allows herself to become the kind person, guided by DDP, to come alongside Alexia to walk with her on her journey.  Kim helps us to see how the dyadic aspect of DDP means that there is a structure within which another very significant other can join the journey Alexia and Kim are on.  It allows the environment in which Alexia’s day to day life continues to be very much a part of the therapy.  This  ability to bring significant others into the work feels so very important for the adult who experienced early neglect and developmental trauma.  I am not aware enough of whether other approaches are able to incorporate the significant others into someones therapy, it was not recommended during my own integrative Counselling Training and for good reason.  But in finishing this book it struck me that Kim used DDP to help guide her into a beautiful piece of interpersonal and integrative therapy and introduces us to how DDP could help guide individual psychotherapists into working with a clients wider network.

This is a gift of a book for me as it brings two of my worlds together, that of DDP Practitioner and Psychotherapeutic Counsellor.  I will be recommending it to the professionals in both sides of my working life as well as some of my clients at the right time.

Thank you.

Anna Binnie-Dawson
Occupational Therapist (RCOT), Psychotherapeutic Counsellor (UKCP) and DDP Practitioner, Consultant and Trainer (DDPi)

Working with Relational Trauma in Schools: An Educator's Guide to Using Dyadic Developmental Practice 
(Guides to Working with Relational Trauma Using DDP) by Louise Michelle Bombèr (Author), Kim Golding (Author), Sian Phillips (Author), Dan Hughes (Foreword)

A collaboration between practitioners of such esteem as Kim Golding, Sian Phillips and Louise Bomber cannot fail to grab the attention of anyone who seeks to learn more about developmental trauma. 



​The first of a planned series examining how DDP (Dyadic Developmental Psychotherapy) principles can be applied in different settings, this book is a welcome addition to the growing literature on how schools and educators address the needs of vulnerable pupils.  The focus on the theory and practices associated with DDP and how these may be applied by school staff is timely and informative. 

The authors very much focus on educators rather than just teachers as they are keen proponents of the team pupil approach, something which is crucial if trauma-informed approaches are to become embedded in whole school practice and ethos.  The premise of the book is that educators are not therapists, nor should they be expected to be, but that using the principles of DDP and accepting them as a ‘way of being’ is essential if we are to address the needs of our vulnerable pupils.  It is enlightening, then, that the educator remains at the heart of the theory explored in the book.

Chapters 1 to 3 introduce some key concepts providing theory in typically easy-to-access manner.  We learn about blocked trust, the reasons behind it but, most importantly here, how it can impact on a daily basis within the classroom.  Intersubjectivity and the powerful, though often overlooked, consequences of shame are discussed in chapter 2 and, again, they are skilfully related to what happens between educator and pupil.  Where the writing is interspersed with specific examples it is most impactful as we find ourselves recognising behaviours we may have encountered in our own experience. Moving on to how we may address these behaviours, chapter 3 looks at building connections encouraging educators to be ‘trust builders’ and ‘emotional detectives’.  The analogy of the river of integration in which we are tasked with remaining open, engaged and flexible is a useful one while the section on mind-mindedness reminds us of the skills we can all develop. 
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Many readers of this book will be familiar with the need for PACE (playfulness, acceptance, curiosity and empathy) in our interactions with young people but chapter 4 goes beyond simple information-giving and prompts us to consider how we demonstrate and live PACE as a philosophy rather than label it as a set of strategies.  Like driving a car, the authors write, each of the skills involved are crucial parts of an even more significant ‘whole’.  Similarly, it is not something that can be learned overnight.  Chapter 5 provides a very useful set of frequently asked questions which heads of service might find helpful for training purposes.  Chapter 6 looks on the surface like a collection of ideas but here we consider, amongst other areas, the use of praise and rewards with vulnerable children.  The language used throughout is about ‘supporting’ behaviour rather than ‘managing’ it and practices are critiqued constructively with very clear and thoughtful advice provided. 

Chapters 7 to 10 offer further practical advice but steer clear of doomed-to-fail ‘tips for teachers’ instead asking us to consider how we may adapt our mindsets and predominant modus operandi in order to build relationships, create safe learning environments and become authoritative educators.   That said, the consistent message remains that this is no easy or simple task and that the challenges faced when trying to do this can be immense.  The authors accept that all of this is often easier said than done and they are clear that educators need time, self-compassion and support from colleagues.  Far from being a supplementary thought, as is often the case, this point is reiterated in particular with chapters 11 and 12 where we are asked to consider our own attachment patterns and how we may look after ourselves.  

It is here where this book excels.  That is, the authors have managed to steer clear of the sometimes idealistic-sounding advice that educators get and produce a work that acknowledges the challenges, places the educator at the centre and offers sensitive, practical and realistic guidance. The interlacing of examples illustrates both how common and understandable it is to ‘get it wrong’ as well as how scenarios may be approached differently.  Ideas are presented concisely and a number of broad strategies, like ‘follow-lead-follow’ and ‘rupture-repair’, are clear and difficult to contest.  Practitioners with some knowledge of DDP and PACE as well as those who are beginning this particular journey will both benefit from this work.  A highly recommended read!

Dr Christine Hadfield
Lecturer in Teacher Education at the University of Glasgow.  
I worked as a secondary school teacher in England for 10 years before becoming an adoptive mum, moving home to Glasgow and educating myself in all things attachment and trauma.  I now work at the School of Education, University of Glasgow where I teach Modern Languages and Health and Wellbeing.