Refugees tackling trauma via stories of survival and despair

The young Iraqi refugee was afraid not of the stage itself, but its proximity to the ocean.

''I hate the sea. I hate it,'' said the 15-year-old, who journeyed to Australia from Indonesia by boat in 2011. ''I always have dreams that I am standing in front of the ocean and the souls come out and say 'the ocean took us'.''

Maryam is part of a unique ''drama therapy'' program being run at Miller Technology High School, which encourages refugee students to share their stories, helping to liberate them from the burden of traumatic memories.

Their remarkable tales of survival and despair were worked into a 90-minute stage production, Tree of Life, performed last month at the Casula Powerhouse Arts Centre and this month at the Ensemble Theatre.

The Treehouse Theatre is a marriage of two teachers' passions. Ruth Hartcher-O'Brien teaches drama and English as a second language and Catherine Maguire-Donvito is a school counsellor with a love of dance.

As a therapy tool, Ms Maguire-Donvito said, the process is highly effective.

''Often trauma controls its victim, coming back as unwanted memories, flashbacks and nightmares,'' she said. ''But when you perform something, you control the story and this sense of control is very therapeutic.

''Perhaps counter-intuitively, telling their stories in a public forum isn't re-traumatising. In fact, it is quite the opposite. It gives them an opportunity to be heard and understood and one of the biggest needs of someone who has been traumatised is to feel that they belong and are loved and understood.''

The stories are, at times, deeply traumatising. Many of the young students have witnessed unimaginable atrocities.

Even for the teachers, who by now have heard hundreds of tales, it is, at times, terribly confronting.

''I still cry my way through every show,'' Ms Hartcher-O'Brien said. ''I know what's coming. I've seen it a thousand times. I write the stories. And I still sit there thinking 'oh my god'.''

Perhaps the rawest wound this year was suffered by 13-year-old Asfar Habeb, who recounts her story on stage.

Three months ago, she was at a park near her home in Fairfield when her mother received a call from Baghdad.

''My school was bombed,'' she said, still visibly shaken.

Many of her friends died and many more were injured.

''I was so sad and I cried for two weeks,'' she said.

Clenching her fist, she said: ''When I say it to everyone in the theatre, my heart goes like this.''

The show, which is the culmination of many months of drama therapy and storytelling workshops, is a lot of work. The association survives on just small grants from Liverpool City Council and a handful of donations.

But, for the two teachers who direct and produce the show, it serves a second important purpose.

''Australia needs to hear these stories,'' Ms Hartcher-O'Brien said. ''But the brilliant thing is, while I might have a political purpose and Cath might have a political purpose, the kids don't … They are simply telling their stories.''

The final performance is at the Ensemble Theatre on July 22.