Mapping Home, Memory and Spatial Recovery in Forced Displacement
Sana Murrani
Helen Lloyd
Ioana-Cristina Popovici
SimpleOriginal

Summary

Participatory mapping helps displaced refugees use memory to reconstruct home and recover from trauma, supporting spatial and social integration in exile.

2023

Mapping Home, Memory and Spatial Recovery in Forced Displacement

Keywords refugees; forced displacement; memory; spatial recovery; participatory mapping

Abstract

Escaping war and persecution during the twenty-tens, over two-million displacees made life-risking journeys into Europe. Trauma continued for those who managed to cross borders and reach new havens: grappling with migration systems, searching for decent housing, and striving for social integration. This article presents empirical findings of a multi-modal participatory mapping project conducted with refugees and asylum seekers in Southwest England, and highlights the impact of memory and deep creative mapping on the spatial practice of making-home in forced displacement. The resulting maps embody spaces of recovery; memoryscapes revealing synergies between the constructs of memory and the concept of home in exile. The project asks how a creative participatory method of mapping home through memory reconsolidation can ameliorate the trauma of displacement and aid the re-making of home.

Introduction

The asylum system in the UK leaves vulnerable displacees in precarious situations, waiting for months and sometimes years until a case is made and assessed against criteria derived from the UN Convention for Refugees. The UK has one of the largest migration detention systems in Europe (Migration Observatory, 2020). After detention comes further displacement through a national (but restrictive) scheme running across volunteer dispersal cities. The trauma continues as displacees grapple with the UK migration system, search for decent accommodation and attempt social integration (Home Affairs Committee, 2017; Darling, 2016). A similar pattern has been documented across Europe (Robila, 2018). Besides physically visible trauma to the body, psychological trauma becomes amplified, while recovery towards wellbeing is often hampered by the mutually reinforcing effects of constrictive asylum policies. For displacees, this trauma is further exacerbated by spatio-cultural rootlessness and new urban environments unmediated by familiar social networks (Rishbeth et al., 2019). Trauma can become a ‘lifelong problem’ affecting the function and structure of the brain, alongside ‘neuropsychological components of memory’ (Bremner, 2006, p. 455). This experience of trauma intensifies for each displaced person as they remember and grieve for the loss of their loved ones, their homes and homelands, without the benefits of compassionate therapeutic care.

Centred on interdisciplinary pathways towards creative spatial practices and spaces of recovery, the article traverses spatio-temporal memoryscapes of home (Butler, 2008). It seeks to contribute to emergent studies of creative agency in the aftermath of traumatic displacement and the way spatial, narrative, and material practices can help shift post-traumatic recovery towards a sense of self-realization and belonging (Boccagni, 2017; Lenette, 2019; Marshall, 2021). Grounded in the empirical findings of a multi-modal, participatory mapping project with refugees and asylum seekers in Southwest England, the article explores the transformative potential of slow, iterative, co-designed methodologies – in this case, deep-mapping. The memoryscapes of home reaffirm a person-centred approach to understanding the re-making of home and proactive integration in the context of displacement. From the standpoint of ethics, collaborative methodology and co-constructed knowledge production, the project and this article contribute to the current ‘messy and contested’ (Askins, 2018, p. 1283) landscape of research in participatory social and spatial justice in action.

The article follows a narrative, process-led structure, highlighting the participants’ insights and experiences, and aligning these through critical touchpoints to key areas of current debate in the fields of geography, displacement studies, psychology, and spatial practice. In this approach, concepts of home as it connects and disconnects from the rest of its immediate context (be it neighbourhood, street or cityscapes) (Sheringham et al., 2021) are discussed through the spatial imaginary lens put forward by Alison Blunt and Robyn Dowling (2006). This is expanded upon through an engagement with the material culture of home (and homeland) as a reciprocal approach to the production of a sense of agency and identity, seen as the retention of ‘a capacity for change’ (Miller, 2009, p. 99). At the intersection of asylum (approaching integration in urban life), displacement (loss of home and homeland) and making-home (the temporality of remaking of home in exile), the article pivots on Paolo Boccagni’s in-depth examination into the migration-home nexus focusing on space and time in relation to the concept of home from the margins (2017). We further consider the construct of memory, in particular memoryscape, to be a vital component in the remaking of home and the affirmation of identities. This responds to Owain Jones’s work on geography and memory (2012) as well as Toby Butler’s work on the mutability and affect of memory in informing an understanding of place – memoryscape (Butler, 2008) and aiding recovery (Robinson, 2005; Lenette, 2019). Critically, we argue that the construction of memory guides the process of re-making of home in displacement through the acts of deep-mapping and participation (Fleuret & Atkinson, 2007; Lenette, 2019; Lazarenko, 2020, Hernández, 2020).

Situated as a research-based spatial practice, this article moves the discussion of home from space fixity, as a container of things (at least in the domain of policy and housing provision) to spatial imaginaries of multiplicity and socially engaged action (in geographical terms) – a space of becoming that is open-ended, negotiated and reimagined – with methods for the design of space hinging on agency and grassroots activism (Dodd, 2020). Thus, home is approached through the performativity of practice, affect and memory as they are intrinsically linked to becoming, agency, creativity and imagination (Jones, 2011, p. 876).

The first section of the article details the project and its conceptual framework. The second introduces the participatory methodology and multi-modal methods, while the third highlights the gradual, participant-led development of memoryscapes of home, bridging between trauma and the construct of memory. The latter section pivots on participants’ memories of their homes and homelands recalled through interviews and workshops. The fourth section illustrates the space of recovery – the map and concomitant deep-mapping process – and affirms the vitality of ‘rupture’ (Ratnam & Drozdzewski, 2020; Murrani, 2020) in the relationship between the construct of memory and the concept of home processed and expressed tangibly in the space of the map. Findings within this section are supported by the feedback received from project participants at exit interviews and from exhibition participants, feeding into the larger tapestry of impact towards home negotiated, home imagined and home as a key to collective agency towards integration. The conclusion emphasizes spatial future imaginings of displacement that are constantly in the process of becoming – and overcoming rigid asylum and resettlement policies.

Creative Recovery through spatial practice

Funded by the European Cultural Foundation, Creative Recovery: Mapping Refugees’ Memories of Home as Heritage is a refugee and asylum seeker-focused pilot project launched at the initiative of the Displacement Studies Research Network at the University of Plymouth between September 2018 and October 2019. Through a creative participatory action research methodology (Kindon et al., 2007), the project shifts the focus onto displacees as creative agents in the process of recovery after the initial trauma of being dispersed across the UK. This enables them to become co-researchers and co-producers of vibrant and revelatory representations (Giritli-Nygren & Schmauch, 2012) of their original home environments, and to explore how valued aspects of this material, spatial and socio-cultural identity can be revitalized as they integrate within new communities. The conceptual framework for the project hinges on the contingency of the meaning of home and the material culture of belonging that are reconstituted as sites of memory in forcibly displaced contexts. It asks how a creative participatory method of mapping homescapes through memory reconsolidation can help ameliorate the trauma of displacement and aid the re-making of home.

Existing research with forced displacees in cities has been dominated by social service- and health-related projects, alongside robust investigations of the wider systemic frameworks within which the experience of refugeedom takes place (Darling, 2020). Research that brings together creativity in the fields of spatial practice, memory and migration has extensively covered the trauma of conflict (Halilovich, 2013), displacement in camps (Kiddey, 2019; Lacroix & Fiddian-Qasmiyeh, 2013; Refugee Hosts, n.d.), and border crossings (Erens, 2000), but little research has focused on countering the trauma of integration in countries of arrival. Notably, there is a scarcity of research projects utilizing deep, slow and iterative participatory mapping processes (Lenette, 2019) that weave memory and history for making-home in exile (HOMInG, n.d.).

Spearheaded by Boccagni (2017), successful projects that examine the ‘migration-home nexus’ unpack how memory, experience, and relationships to material objects produce a collective sense of home. Home is thus demarcated as exceeding a spatial dimension, defined and considered from national, personal and collective perspectives (Boccagni, 2017, p. 136). Boccagni’s positioning of homemaking transcends the domestic; instead, it identifies the processes of belonging, settling, dwelling and asserting ownership over space, and their dependence on the economic opportunities and social structures made available to displaced communities. Homemaking looks at immigration on the local level and the dynamic and micro-relationships between host and guest. Boccagni and Hondagneu-Sotelo (2021) argue that while homemaking can empower, it is not an egalitarian process - it is informed by gender, age, country of origin and other factors. These other factors and relations are framed as ‘more-than-human relations’ of imaginaries that blur, making displacees’ homes oscillate between the material relations of ‘nature and culture, private and public, domestic and non-domestic’ (Alam et al., 2020, p. 1125). Additionally, the gradual development of feelings of belonging in new host contexts has been shown to be positively supported through opportunities for ‘curated sociability’ (Rishbeth et al., 2019, p. 127), where the act of being together (Lobo, 2017) and engaging in activities within friendship or mentorship schemes has boosted engagement with the wider urban context and furthered connections with host communities. All of these were relations that our project grappled with and used as touchpoints to trigger discussions between participants at workshops.

The spatial turn has facilitated a deeper engagement with creative methods for social research on migration, acknowledging the power of visual participatory, creative, and co-produced research with migrants and refugees having transformative impact on migrants’ health and well-being, as well as contributing to their social integration (Jeffery et al., 2019). This further recommends the innovative and replicable approach developed and tested through the Creative Recovery project, providing that crucial link between the inward-looking work of recovery from trauma to outward-looking social connectivity and integration in the new context of making-home post-displacement.

Lenette (2019) makes a strong case for the capacity of creative and participatory research methods to create sanctuary. She identifies ‘Knowledge Holders’ as people with lived experience of forced migration as the central figures and leaders of research on refugeedom (Lenette, 2019, p.240). Our project concurs with Lenette’s advocacy of creative participatory methods. Throughout our work, we remain wary of the possibility of slipping into a ‘fixed narrative’ of refugeedom and thus emphasize the importance of deconstructing and reconstructing the imagery, narratives and identities raised around this topic (Lenette, 2019, p.240).

Experience based co-design and creative deep mapping as a combined methodology of research

Aligned with the body of research linking creativity and healing (Stuckey & Nobel, 2010), Creative Recovery intentionally placed participants’ lived experiences in the spotlight. This process fostered agency and allowed space for self-representation by exploring markers of identity, guided by a participatory action approach known as Experience Based Co-Design (EBCD), an emerging method used successfully to develop and improve health services on the basis of patients’ narratives and lived experiences (Robert et al., 2015; Point of Care Foundation, n.d.).

A slow, iterative, and cyclically-reflective process served as the backbone of the project. Over the course of nine months, the participants explored notions of self, home, identity, memory, displacement, and integration through initial interviews; a series of biweekly thematic mapping workshops; exit interviews; and self-representation through a collective exhibition of project outputs with open audience interaction and participation. The project’s methodology emphasized agency and self-representation through creative exploration rooted in the participants’ lived experience charted through self-identified emotional touchpoints – departing from, intersecting in, and gaining resolution from the concept of ‘home’.

These emotional touchpoints (critical topics from each participant’s perspective) loosely revolved, at least at initial prompt level, around the concept of home. Touchpoints evoked feelings of happiness or sadness in the teller, but also in others listening to or reading the narrative. Most importantly, however, they addressed issues around ‘testimonial injustice’ (Fricker, 2009) occurring when a speaker is denied a voice by being unheard or invalidated during interactions with others, commonly with those who hold more agency and social capital.

In line with a body of work highlighting the impact of narrative in medicine especially for establishing compassionate and transformative care, we used multimodal storytelling techniques to create powerful opportunities and routes to address testimonial injustice by utilising these testimonies as touchpoints: to feel heard is to feel validated. Within our workshops, such touchpoints formed the basis of discussions and created shared experiences, and also fostered empathy and bonding among the group, they later described this as meaningful and enriching. These touchpoints were also a core feature in the shaping of the narrative maps, with the participants becoming co-designers and co-producers of material that communicated and visualized their experiences and meanings. Our use of touchpoints extends the use of mapping ‘traumascapes’ in psychological research (Lazarenko, 2020) and psychogeography through the participant-led tracing of the indeterminacies of the refugee experience in a post-colonial landscape (Sidaway, 2021), utilizing the conceptualisation of home (homescapes) as sites of memory in response to displacement – in alignment with areas of focus within migration studies (Ehrkamp, 2016).

Participants took a leading role in constructing memories of their respective homescapes through maps, drawings, and personal photographs through a series of thematic workshops that fostered a multimodal, multi-skill approach, detailed in the project report (Murrani & Popovici, 2019). During the project’s nine workshops, the participants – a diverse group of refugees and asylum seekers from ten different countries - were introduced to experimental deep mapping (Roberts, 2016, p. 5) techniques (geographical, memory, narratives and stories, objects, photographs) to capture memories of everyday journeys charted at home. This method focused on eliciting prior and salient memories of home and the meanings enmeshed in these memories; some explicit, some yet to be discerned and consciously articulated. Subsequent questions explored how these memories could be enacted as experiences in the UK. This method deviates from directive questions that might ask how people felt about leaving their homes/homelands? Or, what have they left behind? Thus, the discussions and activities prompted the spontaneous co-construction of a narrative of personal value and agency, in which loss was just one strand of the tapestry of personal experience, rather than an all-defining and reductive label.

To this end, the project utilized mapping as an imagination-releasing process, combining narratives of objects and photographs of sentimental value with slow and iterative drawing and tracing of daily journeys taken by participants in their neighbourhoods (in their homelands), tracking back the locations of some of the photographs and sharing other memories of home-making. These cognitive maps, also known as ‘counter-maps’, are a set of embodied representations of temporality and states of precariousness charted cognitively through spaces of mobility by people fleeing home. Often, they stand in opposition to the ‘politics of bordering and ordering’ coordinated by a state (Campos-Delgado, 2018, p. 490). Mapping enabled the perfect set of tools to emerge, triggering new spatial practices of making-home as it oscillated between imagining, remembering, creating and transforming. Departing from Michel de Certeau’s ‘Spatial Stories’ (1984, pp. 115-130) the maps traced and reframed the spatial stories of our participants’ spatial memories of home (homescapes), and reaffirmed making-home as an essential part of the spatial practices of the everyday as well as a powerful act of restitutive place-making in the world (Rose-Redwood et al., 2020).

Thus, conceptualized and employed, maps are contingent, relational, and fleeting (Kitchin, Gleeson & Dodge, 2013), produced while negotiating and re-territorialising space and time. This definition resonates with James Corner’s (2002) description of the process of mapping as a ‘creative practice’ of ‘finding that is also a founding’. He assigns agency to the act of mapping which uncovers ‘realities previously unseen or unimagined, even across seemingly exhausted ground’ (Corner, 2002, p. 13).

We witnessed this process of ‘uncovering realities’ with several of our project participants, especially towards the end of the process, with the discovery that the slow and patient exploratory work of finding (again) and (re)founding the self in intersection with home became the space where participants recorded feelings of ownership, confidence, and self-worth.

In addition to maps, we utilized other visual methods in the form of photographs, films and storytelling to elicit narratives (lived and imagined), revealing the hidden complexity of meanings of home for each of our participants. In utilizing imagery methods for socially focused research (Banks, 2001) we understand the challenges that this approach brings with it, such as ‘the problem with images’ which creates ‘the problem with audiences’, yet we wish to emphasize that we follow MacDougall’s focus on ‘meaning’ (1978, p. 422). We remained mindful of the problematic visual representations of embodied experiences of refugees that reinforce othering and stereotyping even when they meant to evoke empathy (Lenette, 2016, p. 3). The focus is on the ‘meaning’ negotiated and constructed collectively and collaboratively by the researchers, the audience and the visual material produced, overlaying trauma, memory and meanings of home (connected together in the following section) into the space of a map.

Trauma, memory and home

People forced to flee their country of origin will have suffered a variety of terrible experiences prior to departure, and also in transit and on arrival to the country where they are seeking asylum. Understanding and supporting individuals in their responses to these experiences is not straightforward, due to significant variability in the individual expression of recognizable, established psychiatric labels such as PTSD. The use of these markers can be misleading in the assessment of responses to trauma and provision of care, unless viewed through the more nuanced lens of cultural norms and behaviour patterns.

The hippocampus is particularly sensitive to stress but also has the capacity for neuronal plasticity, producing the potential for the initiation and growth of self-led recovery through enriching, creative activities that use a combination of memory work and positive social interaction (Malabou, 2012). Jones (2011) affirms this enrichment of memory in geographical studies by emphasising its complexity beyond the processual basics of encoding, storing, recording and retrieving of experiences that can occur sequentially or not, voluntarily and involuntarily (un/consciously), in the long or short term, as well as in a sensory manner. He situates the imaginative and creative aspect of memory in the performativity of practice embodied spatially through time, stating: ‘Memory is a key means by which the present is practiced’ (Jones, 2011, p. 879). This aspect of the performativity of memory is deeply connected to its fragility, especially in relation to vulnerable and traditionally excluded communities (Drozdzewski et al., 2016, p. 449). This idiosyncratic construct of memory certainly resonates with that of home, in particular displacees’ concept of homescape wrapped in traumascapes.

The narrative of the trauma of war and conflict, displacement, border crossing, detention, dispersal and integration, represented a common theme for Creative Recovery’s group of 12 participants. They originated from four continents, ten countries and spoke six languages but were united by emotional loss and longing for home. For ethical reasons, we deliberately did not speak of loss for the entire duration of the project; instead, our focus was on countering the trauma of loss through positive memories of home and homeland. To begin with, we felt the need to construct a shared meaning of home. Through memories, the participants reported different accounts of what home meant to them, unpacked below during interviews and workshops.

Memories of home

For Mohammed, a Palestinian from Gaza who recently graduated with a degree in management, home is a multiplicity and a totality situated between the individual and the collective agency of identity, belonging and nationhood. In addition to Mohammed’s photographs of childhood which were his way of explaining the meaning of home, he brought to the workshops his traditional scarf, the keffiyeh (ﻛﻮﻓﯿﺔ koofiyyeh), which represents his Palestinian nationality. The pattern of the keffiyeh is encoded with unity (black dots symbolizing the tight bonds between Palestinian people) but also separation (the border pattern represents the separation of Gaza from the rest of the world). This pattern carries deep personal meaning through its abstraction which can be interpreted by the wearer according to their individual life experiences and journey.

From this perspective, Mohammed’s keffiyeh is an abstract map intersecting personhood and nationhood, and it quickly became the creative focus of his memoryscape map. Filtered through Mohammed’s own experience, the resulting piece also operates as a counter-map, reclaiming Gaza from the political and disciplinarian privilege and challenging their ‘authority to write the earth’ (Alderman et al., 2021, p. 67).

A single mother from Lagos (Nigeria), Deborah associates home with community traversed by socio-economic class, spirituality and resilience (Figure 1a). She describes the contrast between relatively affluent, poorer, and rough areas of the city, with the network of places of religious worship acting as a spiritual binding agent. Land and home ownership in Nigeria are difficult to attain, resulting in large segments of the population living in collective compounds where housing units are rented at extortionate prices. Although houses in the compound are shared between 15–40 people, with different tribes coming together to socialize, Deborah’s account also suggested a constant state of vigilance required for cohabitation – there were fights, violence targeted towards children, and accidents: ‘If everyone could build, nobody would live in shared houses.’ Deborah’s best memories of home revolve around coming together with others at her local church to observe a shared spirituality. Although not articulated, perhaps the equalizing effect of the spatial dialogue between divinity and congregation subconsciously enhanced her experience and memory of these events.

Waleed is a human rights activist from Khartoum, Sudan who has been away from his homeland for 20 years yet still does not feel at home in exile. He expresses that his concept of home remained rooted in the time of childhood and the place where his family still resides. Waleed emphasizes his strong connection to the Nile and memories of swimming across to fruit farms on the other side of the river (Figure 1b). For Waleed, his memory of home is a transgressive and performative concept, echoing Jones’s assertion of the connectivity between memory and geography (Jones, 2011). Waleed forged the freedom to drift across boundaries between the spatial sensibility of the place where he grew up and the imaginative alternative life he constructed through books, novels and poems.

Waleed explained that his inability to put down roots is represented in his resistance to put framed pictures of his family on any walls in a place that could never be home, including the flat where he currently lives. With a spatial sensibility of a flâneur, Waleed uses photos he stores online of home and all the places he has visited as memoryscapes that define him beyond the geographical boundaries of his current, past or future location.

Figure 1: a. Deborah’s map representing her daily journey in Lagos between her and her best friend’s houses and the church. b. Waleed’s map of memory and home layering photos from his childhood onto daily journeys across the Nile which he continued to do throughout his adult life in Sudan.

For Mahmoud, a trainee doctor from Kobanî, Syria, currently working as a delivery driver in the UK, home is the smell of his mother’s freshly baked flat bread in a clay oven; the mountains and the freedom of animals roaming around; his evening gatherings with his friends drinking tea in winter and a cold yogurt drink (Ayran) in summer; smoking shisha; playing cards; and sleeping outside in the garden counting the stars at night. He noted the feeling he had when he first visited Dartmoor, finding it the closest place in the UK to his home in Syria. Mahmoud stated that these feelings and connotations of home are shared between all his village community who are predominantly farmers. By disassociating home from just the bricks (or in his village’s case, stone) and mortar of the house, almost all villagers were able to return to rebuild homes in exactly the same geographical location as their previous dwellings after their complete wipe-out during the constant shelling and bombing between 2011 and 2016. He further recalls: ‘We had the mental capacity to make them even bigger and better than before.’ The villagers’ attachment to home was geographical, communal and experiential, yet never to a building per se (Figure 2a).

Holder of a Fine Arts degree and single mother from Baghdad, Iraq, Basma finds home in her connections with her family and the community around them. She spoke predominantly about that network expanding and shrinking depending on major life events. During her last few years in Iraq, as a divorcee, she lived in a block of flats close to her parents’ house and her daughter’s school. She recalled being able to see and hear the children playing in the playground at break time but also being watched from other balconies by the distant neighbours, alluding to the fact that in a conservative society (that had become more extreme after years of war, sanctions and sectarian violence), a single mother in a flat is judged for her past as well as protected by the neighbours. This dichotomy of protection and surveillance, among others such as freedom and oppression of women in general, are common in a conservative society (Figure 2b).

Figure 2: a. Mahmoud’s map included the boundaries of the village and showed the main routes to Aleppo (the closest city). It also included a photograph of his wedding focusing on the community relevance of that event in his village. b. Basma’s map reflected the dichotomy of freedom and oppression of women through her choice of photos showing her as a liberal Iraqi while reflecting on the close-knit spatial context of her dense urban environment.

This sample of definitions and rich juxtapositions of meaning around the construct of home through memory reveals the universal, human relatability of home as a fundamental prerequisite of wellbeing and personhood (having or having known one; making or longing for one; refusing to be beholden to one), but also its challenging fluidity. Home becomes an edgeless notion rooted in experience instead of place (Murrani, 2019). It becomes spatial and temporal, or purely emotive and relational. It can be grasped, achieved, lived in, and constructed, or longed-after in the ineffable terrain of the mind and imagination. Home is to have a place, to know one’s place, to critique one’s place within society. This malleable meaning of the concept of home is manifest through lived and imagined experiences. Blunt and Dowling tie this contingent nature of home to everyday home-making practices which they describe as spatial imaginaries (2006, p. 254).

Home, revisited through the imprecise art of memory, is both less and more: less, as the enforcement of societal restriction fades; and more, as the endless possibilities of a tranquil, hopeful childhood solidify. Catherine Loveday postulates and then further adds: Each time we remember a moment from our life we construct it anew. We do this by using the building blocks of episodic memory – recollective feelings of being somewhere; and semantic memory – concrete knowledge about our world […] and about our personal history […]. Memories are almost never 100 percent accurate, and all memories are malleable and changeable. (Loveday, 2018, p. 64)

Paula Reavey (2017) explains that memories are interwoven from multiple narratives of the past and material objects which occupy a space in time. These are therefore also known as ‘memoryscapes’ or ‘geographies of memories’ (Reavey, 2017, p. 107). Similar to Butler’s (2008) geographies of memory and nostalgia, our participants’ stories chart all (and more) of these intricacies of memoryscapes through space and time, often choosing to describe home through the activities taking place therein, through the people filling it with the joys and sorrows of the everyday, and through the journeys on which it is a starting, middle, and endpoint. The material objects brought in to support these kaleidoscopic imaginings of homescapes are likewise complex: traditional wedding attire is not only representative of a milestone in a woman’s life, starting from the home, but also of her place in and treatment by society. Like home, the inclusion of material culture plays a vital part in the production and re-affirmation of identity. According to Miller, not only homes, clothes and belongings can be prohibitive and instrumental to developing a sense of agency and identity (Miller, 2009, p. 220).

A simultaneity of scales – from the personally minute to the broadly national – permeates these understandings and mappings of home, and, with each retelling and remembering, the ground shifts to allow new meanings of associations – past, present, and future. These scales are influenced by the degree of ‘rupture’ in displacees’ daily lives and the space needed for recovery. Ratnam and Drozdzewski (2020) engage with the meaning of detours as ruptures in the mobility of a group of forcibly displaced Sri Lankan refugees attempting to resettle in Sydney, Australia: In the new mobilities paradigm, places are intertwined processes, experiences, and networks constructed over the lifecourse, and carried to new homes and places of resettlement. Different memories, experiences, and identities amass and are carried too; rupture points become parts of the lifecourse. (Ratnam & Drozdzewski, 2020, p. 760)

Creative Recovery engaged with this syncretic synergy between the contingent concept of home and the plasticity of the construct of memory through map-making, where maps became spaces of recovery from trauma, explored in context in the following section.

Spatial recovery: impact of common threads in a larger tapestry

The act of deep mapping facilitated the creation of alternative spaces of imagination, visualized ruptures in the course of participants’ journeys, and provided a valuable sense of recovery and reclamation of making-home in exile. We call attention to the notion of ‘rupture’ (Ratnam & Drozdzewski, 2020; Murrani, 2020) as causing both migratory displacement and detour in movement and obstructed mobilities in participants’ journeys into safety. Identifying ‘rupture’ emphasizes the multiple stopping points and homes in the migratory journey that resist and move beyond a singular narrative of what settling and making-home means in exile. Through the work of one of our participants, we illustrate the notion of ‘rupture’ found in the intricacies and fragility of mapping a space of recovery during mapping home from memory.

Mohammed’s approach to the idea of home was grounded in building and growing community relationships: his experiences volunteering and event organising during university had moulded his spatial practices of home with transfigurative power aimed towards collective agency. A favourite seaside promenade was a spatially-fluid arena for shared dreams and social projects, masterminded whilst walking side by side with friends. This fluid sensibility of space enabling and hosting social agency in service of both the city and the self was also filtered through Mohammed’s creative homescape collage, built around his traditional Palestinian scarf (Figure 3a).

The geometrically-abstract pattern encodes a wealth of meanings on a range of scales – from one’s own room to the entire Gaza Strip, and from the deeply personal to the political. As part of his mapping process, he discovered that the three opensource maps that we provided of Gaza did not match one another when overlaid and - more importantly to him - did not reflect his vivid memories of the streets of Gaza (from as recently as 2017). Further research revealed that for political and security reasons no one map of Gaza is identical to another - a finding that encouraged Mohammed to map Gaza the way he remembered it cognitively (Figure 3b). This directly impacted his growth through the project by reaffirming his passion for advocacy, particularly in addressing the inaccurate and negative portrayal of Gaza and refugees in the UK. Soon after the project finished, Mohammed was granted refugee status. He moved to Scotland to start an MA in International Relations and Politics at the University of Edinburgh and shortly after was offered a job at the Scottish Refugee Council.

Figure 3: a. Mohammed assembling the intricate components of his memoryscape charted through his childhood and through the streets of Gaza from the mountains to the sea. b. Mohammed’s final map showing at its heart a photo of his childhood placed between the mountains and the sea and shrouded by his Gazan keffiyeh.

This transformative and informal process of slow, iterative and cognitive deep mapping charted through ‘rupture’ had a demonstrably beneficial effect on all of the participants, reflected in the quotations below. The open-ended, co-created maps of the coordinates of diverse memoryscapes of journeys taken at home (and homelands) have encouraged not only the re-affirmation of a sense of personal and cultural self, but also their adaptation and re-rooting in a displaced context. Participants recall:

It just made me realize more about myself, and my journey, and my childhood, and all this kind of memories. Being involved in the project, listening to my other colleagues, what they are saying and just starting to realize like there are too many things I didn’t know that they mean anything to me until the project came. It’s really good, like, even emotionally and psychological like, it definitely helped me a lot. (Tarig from Sudan, from an interview at the opening night of the exhibition, June 2019).

In the past we have spoken many times about our memories, but this time it is different, it’s something unique, we portray our memories by mapping. Some part we feel nostalgic to the past, and the faces, and to the routes we used to take back home, but another part we are proud of what we have achieved.

I have three homes actually, one of them is Palestine, Gaza with my family and friends, and one is here with my new friends, and one is the world itself.

I map, therefore, I am. (Mohammed from Gaza, from an interview with BBC Spotlight Southwest, June 2029).

Alongside the self-perceived sense of recovery from loss and the trauma of displacement reported by participants during interviews, three additional findings were revealed through the qualitative analysis of their responses. First, we detected a sense of optimistic self-projection into the future as creative agents. The memoryscape of home, once (re)constructed, becomes a fluid mental place of catharsis – and, beyond the cusp of recovery, a source of psychological resilience, supporting the shift towards thriving. Second, conceptualising and physically producing the maps enabled participants to ‘make real what was in our head’ (one participant remarks during a workshop); to articulate and externalize feelings, meanings, and ideas of home that support criticality and self-assertion in the pursuit of making-home in exile. Third, the participants’ emergent awareness of social, cultural, and political issues affecting their countries of origin, the UK, and EU has evolved into a keen interest in advocacy for social integration, as well as community and social work focused on nurturing multicultural relationships.

The above findings may also inform policy-making at local and central government levels in the provision of housing alongside educational and professional opportunities. The first level of this ripple effect has already been tested through an exhibition featuring the participants’ creative maps and personal narratives, alongside interactive opportunities for the audience to reflect on the patterns, joys, and challenges of making-home in an era of increasingly normalized transnational mobility. Below are the common threads emerging from the impact study of the Mapping Creative Recovery exhibition.

1. Home negotiated

Home as a plural, edgeless, re-negotiable realm blending imagination, daily spatial practices (Murrani, 2019), and a web of associated social relationships, is the unifying thread running through the exhibition survey answers. The exact blend of the material and immaterial elements that coalesce into home varies substantially, although all share to a significant extent a range of experiential markers of identity that are constantly negotiated. This negotiation results from the spatial practice that is imagined, lived, and experienced in relation to mobility, material culture, temporality and precarity of making-home on the move. It further allows different considerations of scales of negotiation at the subjective level constructed by the act of making-home in exile, as well as the cultures and dynamics this produces exterior to the individual (Miranda Nieto et al., 2020, p. 196), all wrapped into notions of constant ‘rupture’ to daily lives.

2. Home transformed from space to imagination: the self as a nexus for home

Most exhibition visitor responses to the question ‘What does home mean to you?’ firmly placed home as memory; this open-ended answer outstripped three multiple-choice options, demonstrating the importance of memory in providing a space for self-definition. Although the visitors’ answers touched on a few common themes (safety and belonging, love and acceptance, calmness and contentment, the familiarity of the everyday), they also indicated that home is a space-in-flux for growing, becoming and imagining, a non-defined entity constantly re-worked through the practices of the everyday.

A final point of impact between the project and its public reception hinges on the individual, deeply personal narratives of self-representation co-produced by the project participants. The combination of storytelling and shared memories, photographs/portraits capturing the essence of each participant beyond their refugee status, and the maps exploring their imaginative journeys of recovery, supports Lenette’s art-based participatory action research methods towards sanctuary (2019), a dimension often absent in the discourse around cities of sanctuary in the UK, where aspects of territoriality and policy-making often overshadow relational place-making (Darling, 2010). The commonalities of human experience regardless of cultural background and the fundamental need to be seen and heard across the eroding noise of ignorance and misrepresentation (Fricker, 2009) further reverberated through the exhibition’s open feedback.

3. Home: a key to collective agency and integration

Home belongs to a community of shared, yet negotiable values, with the capacity to enact positive social change outside its immediate sphere of influence. Through an open-ended brainstorm for follow-on research that would enhance and expand on the current project, exhibition visitors indicated the importance of sustained community outreach and involvement for robust social integration, which was not to be confused with assimilation (Boccagni & Hondagneu-Sotelo, 2021). Our participants suggested that this could be achieved by pursuing a shift in public opinion through educational initiatives, particularly within local school communities, with the broader goal of influencing the formulation of social policies. Furthermore, the respondents remarked on the crucial role of the creative engagement of refugees in development projects, particularly housing but more generally with more-than-human imaginaries, for example economic, spiritual, and aesthetic imaginaries of home (Alam et al., 2020), as being key to integration.

Conclusion: future imaginings

The project took the participants on a journey of recovery through the map, engaging an expanded model of memory in space and time where the construct of memory and the concept of home overlapped into memoryscapes of creative recovery in displacement. Yet these journeys have not stopped at the making of maps. Some of our project participants have since been granted refugee status and continue to negotiate new life challenges, migration-based systems of control and assistance (e.g. social services) (Brun & Fábos, 2015, p. 14), affirming that making home is a process of negotiation rather than a fixed destination.

Developed through our EBCD approach to mapping refugees’ memories of making-home, our project brought to light participants’ exceptional awareness of transnational connections; their related skills in digital social media; and a complex ruptured (responding to continuous disruption) understanding of what it would take to make themselves truly at home again (Murrani, 2020). Our deep mapping process was enriched through multi-modal, diverse testimonies, challenging the reductive labels placed on displacees by foregrounding the plurality of their journeys through traumascapes projected onto the maps.

Isobel Blomfield and Caroline Lenette (2018) speak of the risks of arts-based projects with refugees and asylum seekers. Even the production of counter-narratives to damaging discourses can reinforce existing tropes and stereotypes through the artist’s lack of lived experience and reflexivity, and through the assumption of a ‘de facto’ incapability of ‘misrepresentation in their collaborations’, thus perpetuating voicelessness, othering, and disempowerment (pp. 322–323). We remain mindful of such pitfalls by focusing on the process of mapping and its meaning with regards to participants’ memoryscapes of home and its future imagining. Alongside Kesby (2007) we remain attentive to the crucial step of identifying the resources and processes with applicability outside the immediacy of the project and PAR research, ‘enabling agents to repeatedly mobilize them to enact empowerment elsewhere’ towards ‘stable reperformance of empowered forms of agency’ (p. 2852).

With its focus on the diverse notion of home, the project enabled our co-researchers to operate on a range of scales, from the immediately personal to the urban and the national, and to actively seek methods – like deep-mapping – whereby the tension-fraught but fruitful confrontation of these levels could be explored. Cartography’s epistemological turn towards the processual, contingent, and unfolding acknowledges the co-constitutive link between map-space and world-place which is both ideological and pragmatic (Kitchin, Gleeson, & Dodge, 2013). This shift has opened the act and the space of mapping to situated knowledges and modes of spatial practice previously made liminal by the orthodoxy of (colonial) cartography, foregrounding a plurality of Indigenous (Rose-Redwood et al., 2020), Black (Alderman et al., 2021), and now, refugee counter-mappings. Our participants creatively revisited, contested, and qualitatively enhanced digital cartographic representations of their homes through the messy materiality of making, forging a social space of meaningful encounters and renegotiation of the situated self and social relationships in both discursive and embodied ways.

The article situates the role of memory work at the heart of making-home practices, linking the two constructs of memory and home at different scales of rupture (Ratnam & Drozdzewski, 2020), through performativity and imagination (Jones, 2011). This expanded model of memoryscape afforded a sense of personhood, self-efficacy and a safe place to express emotions and feelings about home and self (Miller, 2009; Boccagni, 2017). The nexus of home and self is crucial to the establishment of new social negotiations of difference and similarity, traversed by aspects such as race, gender, and ethnic background. Such spatially imagined and recovered negotiations percolate in the exercise of making, anchored in significant urban and domestic spaces.

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Abstract

Escaping war and persecution during the twenty-tens, over two-million displacees made life-risking journeys into Europe. Trauma continued for those who managed to cross borders and reach new havens: grappling with migration systems, searching for decent housing, and striving for social integration. This article presents empirical findings of a multi-modal participatory mapping project conducted with refugees and asylum seekers in Southwest England, and highlights the impact of memory and deep creative mapping on the spatial practice of making-home in forced displacement. The resulting maps embody spaces of recovery; memoryscapes revealing synergies between the constructs of memory and the concept of home in exile. The project asks how a creative participatory method of mapping home through memory reconsolidation can ameliorate the trauma of displacement and aid the re-making of home.

Summary

The UK asylum system places individuals in difficult situations, with long waits for case assessment. The UK operates a significant migration detention system, followed by displacement through national schemes in various cities. This process can cause ongoing trauma as individuals navigate the system, seek housing, and attempt to integrate. Similar patterns exist across Europe. Psychological trauma often intensifies, and recovery is hindered by restrictive asylum policies. This trauma is made worse by feeling disconnected from culture and new environments, without familiar social support. Trauma can have lasting effects on the brain and memory. This experience becomes more profound as displaced individuals grieve for lost loved ones, homes, and homelands without adequate therapeutic support.

This article explores how creative spatial practices can lead to recovery. It examines memory related to home and aims to understand how spatial, narrative, and material activities can help individuals move towards self-realization and belonging after traumatic displacement. The article is based on a participatory mapping project with refugees and asylum seekers in Southwest England. It looks at the power of slow, collaborative methods like deep-mapping. The concept of "memoryscapes of home" highlights a person-centered approach to understanding how home is rebuilt and how integration happens during displacement. From an ethical standpoint, this project and article contribute to current research on social and spatial justice.

The article follows a narrative structure, focusing on participants' insights and connecting them to ongoing discussions in geography, displacement studies, psychology, and spatial practice. It discusses how concepts of home relate to their surroundings, using the idea of spatial imagination. This is further explored through the material culture of home, which helps create a sense of personal agency and identity. The article focuses on the connection between migration and home, particularly how space and time relate to the concept of home from the perspective of those on the margins. Memory, especially "memoryscape," is considered vital for rebuilding home and affirming identities. The argument is made that memory helps guide the process of remaking home during displacement through deep-mapping and participation.

This article positions research-based spatial practice as a way to understand home not as a fixed place, but as a concept that is fluid, open-ended, and constantly being re-imagined through social action. This means that methods for designing space depend on individual agency and community involvement. Therefore, home is understood through the actions, emotions, and memories that are linked to personal development, agency, creativity, and imagination.

The article is structured into several sections. The first section describes the project and its main ideas. The second introduces the research methods, including participatory and multi-modal approaches. The third section details how participants gradually developed "memoryscapes of home," connecting trauma with memory. This part focuses on participants' recollections of their homes through interviews and workshops. The fourth section illustrates how the map and the deep-mapping process became a space for recovery, highlighting the importance of "rupture" in the relationship between memory and home, as expressed through the map. The findings are supported by feedback from participants and exhibition attendees, showing how their experiences contributed to understanding home as something negotiated, imagined, and essential for collective integration. The conclusion emphasizes that future ideas about displacement are always changing, helping to overcome rigid asylum and resettlement policies.

Creative Recovery through Spatial Practice

The "Creative Recovery: Mapping Refugees' Memories of Home as Heritage" project was funded by the European Cultural Foundation. It was a pilot project focused on refugees and asylum seekers, launched by the Displacement Studies Research Network at the University of Plymouth from September 2018 to October 2019. Using a creative participatory action research method, the project aimed to empower displaced individuals as active creators in their recovery after initial displacement across the UK. This allowed them to act as co-researchers and co-producers of powerful representations of their original home environments. The project explored how valued aspects of their material, spatial, and socio-cultural identity could be revitalized as they integrated into new communities. The main idea behind the project was that the meaning of home and the material culture of belonging are constantly changing and become important sites of memory in situations of forced displacement. The project asked how a creative, participatory mapping method, using memory reconsolidation, could help reduce the trauma of displacement and assist in the process of rebuilding home.

Existing research on forced displacement in cities has largely focused on social services and health, as well as broader analyses of the systems impacting refugee experiences. Research combining creativity, spatial practice, memory, and migration has extensively covered the trauma of conflict, displacement in camps, and border crossings. However, there is less research on addressing the trauma of integration in host countries. Specifically, there is a shortage of projects that use deep, slow, and repetitive participatory mapping processes that connect memory and history to the process of making a home while in exile.

Successful projects examining the "migration-home nexus" explore how memory, experience, and relationships with material objects create a shared sense of home. Home is seen as more than just a physical space, defined from national, personal, and collective viewpoints. This understanding of homemaking goes beyond the domestic sphere, identifying processes of belonging, settling, dwelling, and claiming space. These processes depend on the economic opportunities and social structures available to displaced communities. Homemaking also considers immigration at the local level and the dynamic relationships between hosts and guests. While homemaking can be empowering, it is not always equal, influenced by factors like gender, age, and country of origin. These factors and relationships are understood as complex connections that blend different aspects, making the homes of displaced individuals shift between "nature and culture, private and public, domestic and non-domestic." Additionally, opportunities for structured social interaction have been shown to support the gradual development of belonging in new host environments. Being together and participating in activities through friendships or mentorships has increased engagement with the wider urban context and strengthened connections with host communities. The project addressed these various relationships and used them to start discussions among participants during workshops.

The focus on spatial methods has encouraged a deeper use of creative approaches in social research on migration. This acknowledges the power of visual, participatory, creative, and collaborative research with migrants and refugees to positively impact their health, well-being, and social integration. This further supports the innovative approach developed and tested through the "Creative Recovery" project, which provides a crucial link between the internal process of recovering from trauma and the external process of social connection and integration in the new context of making a home after displacement.

Research emphasizes the ability of creative and participatory research methods to create a sense of safety and belonging. It identifies individuals with direct experience of forced migration as key leaders in research on refugeedom. The project agrees with the importance of creative participatory methods. Throughout the work, researchers remained aware of the risk of creating a fixed narrative about refugees. Therefore, they stressed the importance of questioning and re-shaping the images, stories, and identities associated with this topic.

Experience-Based Co-Design and Creative Deep Mapping Methodology

The "Creative Recovery" project intentionally highlighted participants' lived experiences, aligning with research that connects creativity and healing. This approach fostered personal agency and allowed for self-expression through exploring aspects of identity. This was guided by a participatory action approach called Experience-Based Co-Design (EBCD), a method used to improve health services based on patients' stories.

The project followed a slow, repetitive, and reflective process over nine months. Participants explored ideas of self, home, identity, memory, displacement, and integration through initial interviews, a series of biweekly thematic mapping workshops, exit interviews, and a collective exhibition of their work. The methodology emphasized personal agency and self-representation through creative exploration rooted in participants' lived experiences, marked by self-identified "emotional touchpoints" related to the concept of home.

These emotional touchpoints, which were important topics from each participant's view, initially revolved around the idea of home. They evoked feelings of happiness or sadness in the storyteller and in those listening or reading the narratives. Importantly, these touchpoints also addressed issues of "testimonial injustice," where a speaker is silenced or invalidated in interactions, often with those holding more power.

Drawing on research that highlights the role of narrative in medicine for compassionate care, the project used multimodal storytelling to address testimonial injustice. These testimonies became touchpoints, allowing participants to feel heard and validated. In workshops, these touchpoints formed the basis for discussions, created shared experiences, and fostered empathy and connection within the group, which participants described as meaningful. These touchpoints also shaped the narrative maps, with participants co-designing and co-producing material that communicated their experiences. This use of touchpoints expands on mapping "traumascapes" in psychological research and psychogeography by allowing participants to trace the complexities of the refugee experience in a post-colonial landscape, using "homescapes" as sites of memory in response to displacement, aligning with migration studies.

Participants led the creation of memories of their homescapes through maps, drawings, and personal photographs in a series of workshops that used various skills and methods. During nine workshops, participants—a diverse group of refugees and asylum seekers from ten countries—learned experimental "deep mapping" techniques (geographical, memory, narratives, objects, photographs) to capture memories of daily journeys taken at home. This method aimed to bring out important past memories of home and the meanings within them, some clear and some yet to be understood. Subsequent questions explored how these memories could be re-enacted in the UK. This approach differed from direct questions about leaving home or what was left behind. Instead, discussions and activities encouraged the spontaneous creation of a narrative of personal value and agency, where loss was only one part of their experience, not a defining label.

To achieve this, the project used mapping as a way to unleash imagination. It combined stories about objects and sentimental photographs with slow, repetitive drawing and tracing of participants' daily journeys in their home neighborhoods. This involved tracking locations from photographs and sharing other memories of home. These mental maps, or "counter-maps," are personal representations of uncertainty and precariousness, cognitively mapped through spaces of movement by people fleeing home. They often challenge state-controlled "politics of bordering and ordering." Mapping provided effective tools, sparking new spatial practices of making-home as it shifted between imagining, remembering, creating, and transforming. Drawing from Michel de Certeau's "Spatial Stories," the maps traced and reframed participants' spatial memories of home, reaffirming homemaking as essential to everyday spatial practices and a powerful act of restorative place-making.

Thus, maps are understood as fluid, connected to relationships, and temporary. They are created while negotiating and redefining space and time. This aligns with the idea of mapping as a creative process that reveals "realities previously unseen or unimagined."

This process of "uncovering realities" was observed in several participants, particularly near the end of the project. They discovered that the slow, patient work of rediscovering and rebuilding their sense of self in relation to home became a space where they found feelings of ownership, confidence, and self-worth.

In addition to maps, other visual methods like photographs, films, and storytelling were used to gather narratives (both real and imagined), revealing the hidden complexities of what home meant to each participant. When using imagery for social research, the challenges of this approach are understood, such as "the problem with images" leading to "the problem with audiences." However, the focus remained on the "meaning" negotiated and created collectively by researchers, the audience, and the visual material, combining trauma, memory, and meanings of home into the space of a map.

Trauma, Memory, and Home

Individuals forced to leave their home countries often experience severe trauma before, during, and after their journey to seek asylum. Understanding and supporting their responses to these experiences is complex due to varied individual expressions of recognized psychiatric conditions like PTSD. Relying solely on these labels can be misleading for assessing trauma responses and providing care, unless considered within a broader understanding of cultural norms and behavior.

The hippocampus is particularly sensitive to stress but also has the capacity for neuronal growth and change. This allows for self-directed recovery through enriching, creative activities that combine memory work and positive social interaction. Research confirms this enhancement of memory in geographical studies, emphasizing its complexity beyond basic processes like encoding, storing, recalling, and retrieving experiences. These processes can occur sequentially or not, voluntarily or involuntarily, in the long or short term, and through sensory experiences. This imaginative and creative aspect of memory is found in how practices are performed spatially through time, suggesting that "Memory is a key means by which the present is practiced." This performative aspect of memory is closely linked to its fragility, especially in vulnerable and historically marginalized communities. This unique understanding of memory clearly resonates with the concept of home, particularly for displaced individuals whose "homescapes" are intertwined with "traumascapes."

The shared narrative of war, conflict, displacement, border crossings, detention, dispersal, and integration was a common theme for the 12 participants in the Creative Recovery project. They came from four continents, ten countries, and spoke six languages, but were united by emotional loss and a longing for home. For ethical reasons, the project intentionally avoided discussing loss directly. Instead, it focused on countering the trauma of loss through positive memories of home and homeland. Initially, there was a need to establish a shared understanding of home. Through memories, participants shared diverse accounts of what home meant to them, explored during interviews and workshops.

Memories of Home

For Mohammed, a Palestinian from Gaza, home represents a multifaceted and complete concept that exists between individual and collective identity, belonging, and nationhood. In addition to childhood photographs, which he used to explain the meaning of home, Mohammed brought his traditional scarf, the keffiyeh. This scarf symbolizes his Palestinian nationality, with its pattern encoding unity (black dots representing strong bonds) and separation (the border pattern symbolizing Gaza's isolation). This pattern holds deep personal meaning through its abstract nature, allowing the wearer to interpret it based on their own life experiences.

From this perspective, Mohammed's keffiyeh serves as an abstract map connecting his personal identity and national belonging, and it quickly became the creative focus of his memoryscape map. Through Mohammed's personal experience, the resulting artwork also acts as a "counter-map," reclaiming Gaza from political and authoritative influences and challenging their power to define the land.

Deborah, a single mother from Lagos, Nigeria, associates home with community, influenced by socio-economic class, spirituality, and resilience. She described the contrast between affluent, poorer, and rough areas of the city, with places of worship acting as a spiritual connection. Land and home ownership are challenging in Nigeria, leading many to live in shared compounds where housing units are rented at high costs. Although houses are shared by 15-40 people from different tribes who socialize together, Deborah's account also highlighted the constant need for vigilance in cohabitation, mentioning fights, violence against children, and accidents. She noted, "If everyone could build, nobody would live in shared houses." Deborah's fondest memories of home revolve around gathering with others at her local church for shared spiritual practices. While not explicitly stated, the sense of equality in the spiritual setting between divinity and the congregation may have subconsciously enhanced her experience and memory of these events.

Waleed, a human rights activist from Khartoum, Sudan, has been away from his homeland for 20 years yet still feels displaced. He expresses that his idea of home remains rooted in his childhood and the place where his family still lives. Waleed emphasizes his strong connection to the Nile and memories of swimming across to fruit farms on the other side of the river. For Waleed, his memory of home is a transformative and expressive concept, reflecting the link between memory and geography. Waleed created a sense of freedom by moving across boundaries between the physical place where he grew up and the imaginative alternative life he built through books, novels, and poems.

Waleed explained that his inability to settle is reflected in his reluctance to display framed family pictures on the walls of any place that could never truly be home, including his current flat. With the observant sensibility of a wanderer, Waleed uses online photos of his home and all the places he has visited as "memoryscapes" that define him beyond the physical boundaries of his current, past, or future locations.

For Mahmoud, a trainee doctor from Kobanî, Syria, who works as a delivery driver in the UK, home is defined by sensory experiences and social connections. He remembers the smell of his mother's fresh flatbread baked in a clay oven, the mountains and free-roaming animals, evening gatherings with friends drinking tea or Ayran, smoking shisha, playing cards, and sleeping outside counting stars. He found Dartmoor in the UK to be the closest place to his Syrian home. Mahmoud noted that these feelings and associations of home are shared by his village community, who are mainly farmers. By separating home from just the physical structure, almost all villagers were able to return and rebuild their homes in the exact same geographical locations after their complete destruction by shelling between 2011 and 2016. He recalled, "We had the mental capacity to make them even bigger and better than before." The villagers' attachment to home was geographical, communal, and experiential, not to a specific building itself.

Basma, an art graduate and single mother from Baghdad, Iraq, defines home through her connections with family and community. She spoke primarily about how this network expanded and contracted during major life events. In her final years in Iraq, as a divorcée, she lived in an apartment building near her parents' home and her daughter's school. She recalled seeing and hearing children playing in the playground during breaks, but also being watched from other balconies by distant neighbors. This suggested that in a conservative society, which had become more extreme after years of war and violence, a single mother in a flat faced both judgment for her past and protection from neighbors. This dual nature of protection and surveillance, alongside issues of freedom and oppression for women, is common in conservative societies.

This collection of definitions and rich contrasts in the meaning of home through memory highlights the universal human connection to home as essential for well-being and identity. It shows home as something one has, seeks, creates, or longs for, but also as a challenging and fluid concept. Home becomes an unbounded idea rooted in experience rather than a specific place. It can be spatial and temporal, or purely emotional and relational. Home can be understood, achieved, lived in, and built, or longed for in the mind and imagination. It means having a place, knowing one's place, and critically examining one's place in society. This adaptable meaning of home is expressed through both real and imagined experiences. This adaptable nature of home is connected to everyday homemaking practices, which are described as spatial imaginaries.

Home, when viewed through the imperfect lens of memory, is both less and more: less constrained by societal rules, and more solidified by the endless possibilities of a peaceful, hopeful childhood. As one researcher suggests, "Each time we remember a moment from our life we construct it anew. We do this by using the building blocks of episodic memory – recollective feelings of being somewhere; and semantic memory – concrete knowledge about our world […] and about our personal history […]. Memories are almost never 100 percent accurate, and all memories are malleable and changeable."

Memories are formed from various past stories and physical objects that exist in time. These are also known as "memoryscapes" or "geographies of memories." Similar to other research on memory and nostalgia, participants' stories illustrate the complexities of memoryscapes across space and time. They often describe home through the activities that take place there, the people who fill it with daily joys and sorrows, and the journeys for which it is a starting, middle, and end point. The physical objects brought in to support these diverse images of homescapes are equally complex: traditional wedding attire represents not only a significant life event for a woman, starting from home, but also her place and treatment within society. Like home, the inclusion of material culture is vital in creating and reaffirming identity. Material possessions, clothes, and homes can be both restrictive and instrumental in developing a sense of agency and identity.

A combination of scales, from the very personal to the national, permeates these understandings and mappings of home. With each retelling and remembering, new meanings and associations—past, present, and future—emerge. These scales are influenced by the degree of "rupture" in displaced individuals' daily lives and the space needed for recovery. Research explores the meaning of "detours" as disruptions in the movement of forcibly displaced refugees attempting to resettle.

In the new understanding of mobility, places are interconnected processes, experiences, and networks built throughout a lifetime, carried to new homes and resettlement locations. Different memories, experiences, and identities accumulate and are also carried; points of disruption become parts of one's life journey. The "Creative Recovery" project engaged with this combination of the fluid concept of home and the adaptable nature of memory through map-making, where maps became spaces for recovering from trauma. This is explored in the following section.

Spatial Recovery: Impact of Common Threads

The process of deep mapping helped create alternative imaginative spaces, visualized disruptions in participants' journeys, and offered a valuable sense of recovery and reclaiming the act of making a home in exile. This highlights the concept of "rupture" as both a cause of migratory displacement and a disruption in movement, hindering participants' journeys to safety. Identifying "rupture" emphasizes the multiple stops and homes in the migratory journey, challenging a single narrative of what settling and making a home in exile means. Through the work of one participant, the idea of "rupture" is illustrated in the complexities and fragility of mapping a space of recovery while mapping home from memory.

Mohammed's understanding of home was based on building and nurturing community relationships. His experiences volunteering and organizing events during university shaped his spatial practices of home, aiming for collective agency. A favorite seaside promenade was a flexible space for shared dreams and social projects, often conceived during walks with friends. This fluid understanding of space, enabling social action for both the city and the self, was also reflected in Mohammed's creative homescape collage, centered on his traditional Palestinian scarf.

The abstract geometric pattern contains a wealth of meanings across various scales—from one's own room to the entire Gaza Strip, and from the deeply personal to the political. As part of his mapping process, he discovered that the three open-source maps of Gaza provided did not align when overlaid and, more importantly to him, did not reflect his vivid memories of Gaza's streets (as recent as 2017). Further research revealed that for political and security reasons, no two maps of Gaza are identical—a finding that encouraged Mohammed to map Gaza as he remembered it cognitively. This directly impacted his growth through the project by reaffirming his passion for advocacy, particularly in addressing inaccurate and negative portrayals of Gaza and refugees in the UK. Shortly after the project ended, Mohammed was granted refugee status. He moved to Scotland to pursue an MA in International Relations and Politics at the University of Edinburgh and soon after was offered a job at the Scottish Refugee Council.

This transformative and informal process of slow, repetitive, and cognitive deep mapping, conducted through "rupture," had a clearly positive effect on all participants, as reflected in their statements. The open-ended, collaboratively created maps of diverse memoryscapes from journeys taken at home (and homelands) not only encouraged the reaffirmation of personal and cultural identity but also their adaptation and re-rooting in a displaced context. Participants recall:

"It just made me realize more about myself, and my journey, and my childhood, and all this kind of memories. Being involved in the project, listening to my other colleagues, what they are saying and just starting to realize like there are too many things I didn’t know that they mean anything to me until the project came. It’s really good, like, even emotionally and psychological like, it definitely helped me a lot." (Tarig from Sudan, from an interview at the opening night of the exhibition, June 2019).

"In the past we have spoken many times about our memories, but this time it is different, it’s something unique, we portray our memories by mapping. Some part we feel nostalgic to the past, and the faces, and to the routes we used to take back home, but another part we are proud of what we have achieved. I have three homes actually, one of them is Palestine, Gaza with my family and friends, and one is here with my new friends, and one is the world itself. I map, therefore, I am." (Mohammed from Gaza, from an interview with BBC Spotlight Southwest, June 2029).

Beyond the participants' self-reported sense of recovery from loss and trauma, a qualitative analysis of their responses revealed three additional findings. First, there was a sense of optimistic self-projection into the future as creative individuals. The reconstructed "memoryscape of home" became a fluid mental space for emotional release, and beyond recovery, a source of psychological strength supporting a shift towards thriving. Second, designing and physically creating the maps allowed participants to "make real what was in our head" (as one participant remarked during a workshop), enabling them to express feelings, meanings, and ideas of home. This supported critical thinking and self-assertion in the pursuit of making a home in exile. Third, participants' growing awareness of social, cultural, and political issues affecting their countries of origin, the UK, and the EU developed into a strong interest in advocating for social integration, as well as community and social work focused on fostering multicultural relationships.

These findings could also inform policy-making at local and national government levels regarding housing and educational/professional opportunities. The initial impact of this work has already been tested through an exhibition showcasing participants' creative maps and personal narratives, alongside interactive opportunities for the audience to reflect on the patterns, joys, and challenges of making a home in an era of increasingly common transnational mobility. Below are the recurring themes from the impact study of the "Mapping Creative Recovery" exhibition.

1. Home Negotiated

The unifying theme running through the exhibition survey responses is home as a plural, unbounded, and adaptable realm blending imagination, daily spatial practices, and a network of associated social relationships. The precise mix of material and non-material elements that form home varies significantly, though all share a range of experiential markers of identity that are constantly being adjusted. This adjustment results from spatial practices—imagined, lived, and experienced—in relation to mobility, material culture, temporality, and the precariousness of making a home while on the move. It also allows for different levels of negotiation at the individual level, shaped by the act of making a home in exile, as well as the cultures and dynamics produced externally to the individual, all encapsulated within notions of constant "rupture" to daily lives.

2. Home Transformed from Space to Imagination: The Self as a Nexus for Home

Most exhibition visitors, when asked "What does home mean to you?", strongly linked home to memory. This open-ended response was chosen more often than three multiple-choice options, highlighting the importance of memory in defining oneself. While visitors' answers touched on common themes (safety and belonging, love and acceptance, calmness and contentment, everyday familiarity), they also indicated that home is a dynamic space for growth, becoming, and imagination. It is an undefined entity constantly re-shaped through daily practices.

A final point of connection between the project and its public reception centers on the individual, deeply personal narratives of self-representation co-produced by the project participants. The combination of storytelling, shared memories, photographs capturing each participant's essence beyond their refugee status, and maps exploring their imaginative journeys of recovery supports art-based participatory action research methods for creating a sense of safety and belonging. This dimension is often missing in discussions about "cities of sanctuary" in the UK, where issues of territoriality and policy often overshadow the relational aspects of place-making. The commonalities of human experience, regardless of cultural background, and the fundamental need to be seen and heard despite misinformation, further resonated through the exhibition's open feedback.

3. Home: A Key to Collective Agency and Integration

Home belongs to a community with shared, yet adaptable, values, and has the capacity to bring about positive social change beyond its immediate influence. Through an open-ended brainstorming session for future research to expand on the current project, exhibition visitors highlighted the importance of sustained community outreach and involvement for strong social integration, which should not be confused with assimilation. Participants suggested this could be achieved by shifting public opinion through educational initiatives, especially within local school communities, with the broader goal of influencing social policy. Furthermore, respondents noted the crucial role of refugees' creative engagement in development projects, particularly housing and, more broadly, with economic, spiritual, and aesthetic understandings of home, as key to integration.

Conclusion: Future Imaginings

The project guided participants on a journey of recovery through map-making, using an expanded model of memory in space and time where memory and the concept of home overlapped into "memoryscapes" of creative recovery during displacement. However, these journeys did not end with the creation of maps. Some participants have since been granted refugee status and continue to navigate new life challenges and migration-related systems of control and assistance, affirming that making a home is an ongoing process of negotiation rather than a fixed destination.

Developed through an Experience-Based Co-Design approach to mapping refugees' memories of homemaking, the project revealed participants' exceptional awareness of transnational connections, their related skills in digital social media, and a complex understanding of what it would take to truly feel at home again after continuous disruption. The deep mapping process was enriched by diverse, multi-modal testimonies, challenging the simplistic labels placed on displaced individuals by highlighting the complexity of their journeys through "traumascapes" projected onto the maps.

Research highlights the risks associated with arts-based projects involving refugees and asylum seekers. Even attempts to create alternative narratives to harmful discourses can unintentionally reinforce existing stereotypes. This can happen if artists lack personal experience or reflection, or if there's an assumption that collaborations inherently prevent misrepresentation. Such issues can perpetuate voicelessness, othering, and disempowerment. The project remains mindful of these pitfalls by focusing on the process of mapping and its meaning regarding participants' "memoryscapes" of home and their future imaginings. Researchers remain attentive to the critical step of identifying resources and processes that can be applied beyond the immediate project, enabling individuals to repeatedly use them to exercise empowerment elsewhere, leading to sustained performance of empowered agency.

By focusing on the diverse idea of home, the project allowed co-researchers to operate on various scales, from the personal to the urban and national. It also encouraged them to actively seek methods, like deep-mapping, to explore the challenging but productive intersections of these levels. The shift in cartography towards understanding maps as dynamic, fluid, and evolving processes acknowledges the interconnected link between map space and world place, which is both ideological and practical. This shift has opened up the act and space of mapping to local knowledge and spatial practices previously marginalized by traditional (colonial) cartography, highlighting a plurality of Indigenous, Black, and now, refugee "counter-mappings." Participants creatively re-examined, challenged, and qualitatively enhanced digital cartographic representations of their homes through the tangible process of making, creating a social space for meaningful encounters and the re-negotiation of their situated selves and social relationships, both in discussions and through embodied actions.

The article places the role of memory work at the center of homemaking practices, linking memory and home at different scales of disruption through performance and imagination. This expanded model of "memoryscape" provided a sense of personal identity, self-efficacy, and a safe space to express emotions and feelings about home and self. The connection between home and self is crucial for establishing new social negotiations of differences and similarities, influenced by factors such as race, gender, and ethnic background. These spatially imagined and recovered negotiations permeate the act of making, anchored in significant urban and domestic spaces.

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Abstract

Escaping war and persecution during the twenty-tens, over two-million displacees made life-risking journeys into Europe. Trauma continued for those who managed to cross borders and reach new havens: grappling with migration systems, searching for decent housing, and striving for social integration. This article presents empirical findings of a multi-modal participatory mapping project conducted with refugees and asylum seekers in Southwest England, and highlights the impact of memory and deep creative mapping on the spatial practice of making-home in forced displacement. The resulting maps embody spaces of recovery; memoryscapes revealing synergies between the constructs of memory and the concept of home in exile. The project asks how a creative participatory method of mapping home through memory reconsolidation can ameliorate the trauma of displacement and aid the re-making of home.

Summary

The asylum process in the UK presents significant challenges for displaced individuals. They often experience long waiting periods for their cases to be reviewed, followed by further relocation through a national dispersal system. This process can intensify psychological trauma, particularly when individuals struggle with new environments, lack familiar social networks, and cope with the loss of loved ones and homelands. Such trauma can have lasting effects on brain function and memory.

This article explores how creative practices can help displaced individuals recover and find a sense of belonging. It draws on a participatory mapping project with refugees and asylum seekers in Southwest England. The project used "deep-mapping" methods, which are slow and involve collaborative design, to help participants explore their memories of home. This approach supports a person-centered understanding of how home is remade and how integration occurs after displacement. The project aims to contribute to research on social and spatial justice by using ethical, collaborative methods to produce knowledge.

The article follows a narrative structure, focusing on participants' experiences and connecting them to current discussions in geography, displacement studies, psychology, and spatial practice. It discusses the concept of home as it relates to surroundings, material culture, and the idea of agency. The work builds on research that examines the connection between migration and home, focusing on how space and time influence the concept of home from the perspective of those on the margins. Memory, especially the idea of "memoryscape," is also considered vital for remaking home and affirming identity. The authors argue that constructing memory, through deep-mapping and participation, guides the process of remaking home during displacement.

This research approaches home not as a fixed physical space but as a dynamic, imagined space shaped by social action. It emphasizes that home is an ongoing process influenced by actions, emotions, and memories, all connected to personal growth, agency, creativity, and imagination.

The article is organized into sections: the project's framework, its participatory methodology, the development of participants' memoryscapes, and the idea of the map as a space for recovery. The final section discusses how the project's findings relate to future approaches to displacement, aiming to move beyond rigid asylum policies.

Creative Recovery Through Spatial Practice

The "Creative Recovery: Mapping Refugees’ Memories of Home as Heritage" project, funded by the European Cultural Foundation, ran from September 2018 to October 2019. This pilot project, initiated by the Displacement Studies Research Network at the University of Plymouth, focused on refugees and asylum seekers. It used a creative participatory action research approach to empower displaced individuals as active participants in their recovery process after being dispersed across the UK. The project aimed to help them co-create rich representations of their original home environments and explore how valued aspects of their identity could be revitalized as they integrated into new communities. The project's core idea was that the meaning of home and the material culture of belonging are recreated as sites of memory in situations of forced displacement. It explored how creative mapping of "homescapes" through memory can help address the trauma of displacement and support the remaking of home.

Existing research on forced displacement in cities has often focused on social services, health, and broader systemic frameworks. While creativity in spatial practice, memory, and migration has been explored in the context of conflict, displacement in camps, and border crossings, there is limited research on how to counter the trauma of integration in destination countries. Specifically, there is a lack of projects that use detailed, slow, and repetitive participatory mapping processes to weave together memory and history for the purpose of making a home in exile.

Successful projects examining the "migration-home connection" have shown how memory, experience, and relationships with objects contribute to a collective sense of home. This view extends beyond a purely spatial definition, incorporating national, personal, and collective perspectives. The concept of "homemaking" is understood to involve processes of belonging, settling, dwelling, and claiming ownership over space, which are influenced by economic opportunities and social structures available to displaced communities. Homemaking also considers immigration at the local level and the dynamic relationships between host and guest. While homemaking can be empowering, it is not always equal, as factors like gender, age, and country of origin can influence the process. These relationships also involve "more-than-human" imaginaries, blurring the lines between nature and culture, private and public, and domestic and non-domestic in displaced individuals' homes. Additionally, opportunities for "curated sociability," such as group activities or mentorship, have been shown to help develop feelings of belonging in new host contexts and foster connections with host communities. The Creative Recovery project addressed all these aspects in its discussions and workshops.

The increasing focus on spatial approaches has encouraged the use of creative methods in social research on migration. These methods acknowledge the power of visual, participatory, and co-produced research involving migrants and refugees to positively impact their health and well-being and support their social integration. This supports the innovative and repeatable approach of the Creative Recovery project, which connects the internal work of trauma recovery with external social connections and integration in the process of making a new home after displacement.

The importance of creative and participatory research methods in creating a sense of sanctuary has been emphasized. "Knowledge Holders," individuals with direct experience of forced migration, are considered central to leading research on refuge. The Creative Recovery project aligns with this view, recognizing the value of creative participatory methods. However, the project also remained cautious about avoiding a "fixed narrative" of refuge and stressed the importance of questioning and re-evaluating the images, stories, and identities associated with this topic.

Experience-Based Co-Design and Creative Deep Mapping as a Combined Methodology

The Creative Recovery project purposefully focused on participants' lived experiences, recognizing the link between creativity and healing. This approach encouraged individual agency and self-representation by allowing participants to explore their identities through markers such as home, memory, displacement, and integration. This was guided by Experience Based Co-Design (EBCD), a participatory action method successfully used to improve health services based on patients' stories.

The project adopted a slow, repetitive, and reflective process over nine months. Participants explored themes of self, home, identity, memory, displacement, and integration through initial interviews, biweekly mapping workshops, exit interviews, and a public exhibition of their work. The methodology emphasized agency and self-representation through creative exploration of "emotional touchpoints" identified by the participants. These touchpoints, which evoked feelings of happiness or sadness, addressed issues of "testimonial injustice" where individuals are silenced or invalidated.

Using various storytelling techniques, the project aimed to counter testimonial injustice by transforming these testimonies into touchpoints. Being heard and validated was seen as crucial. In workshops, these touchpoints sparked discussions, created shared experiences, and fostered empathy and connection among the group, which participants found meaningful. These touchpoints were also central to shaping the narrative maps, with participants co-designing and co-producing materials that communicated their experiences. This use of touchpoints expands on existing research that maps "traumascapes" and uses psychogeography to trace the complexities of the refugee experience. It conceptualizes home ("homescapes") as sites of memory in response to displacement, aligning with key areas of migration studies.

Participants played a leading role in creating memories of their homescapes through maps, drawings, and personal photographs in a series of workshops. These workshops encouraged a multimodal and multi-skill approach. Participants were introduced to experimental deep mapping techniques, which included geographical, memory, narrative, object, and photographic elements, to capture memories of everyday journeys in their homelands. This method focused on eliciting important past memories of home and the meanings embedded within them, some of which were unspoken. Subsequent questions explored how these memories could be brought into their experiences in the UK. This approach avoided direct questions about leaving home or what was left behind, instead prompting a spontaneous co-creation of personal value and agency, where loss was only one part of their experience.

The project used mapping as a way to unleash imagination, combining narratives of meaningful objects and photographs with slow drawing and tracing of participants' daily journeys in their former neighborhoods. These "cognitive maps," or "counter-maps," represented the temporary and uncertain states experienced by people fleeing home, often challenging state-controlled "politics of bordering and ordering." Mapping provided tools that triggered new ways of making a home, oscillating between imagining, remembering, creating, and transforming. Drawing from Michel de Certeau’s "Spatial Stories," the maps reframed participants’ spatial memories of home (homescapes), affirming homemaking as a vital part of everyday spatial practices and a powerful act of remaking place in the world.

In this context, maps are understood as dynamic, relational, and temporary, produced through the negotiation of space and time. This aligns with the idea of mapping as a "creative practice" that uncovers "previously unseen or unimagined realities." The project observed this "uncovering of realities" as participants, especially towards the end, found a sense of ownership, confidence, and self-worth through the careful exploration of self and home.

Beyond maps, other visual methods like photographs, films, and storytelling were used to gather both lived and imagined narratives, revealing the complex meanings of home for each participant. While acknowledging the challenges of using imagery in social research, such as the "problem with images" creating "the problem with audiences," the project focused on the "meaning" negotiated and co-created by researchers, the audience, and the visual materials. This approach was mindful of avoiding problematic visual representations of refugees that could reinforce stereotypes, instead prioritizing the collectively constructed meaning that integrated trauma, memory, and the concept of home within the map space.

Trauma, Memory, and Home

Individuals forced to leave their home countries often endure profound hardships before, during, and after their journey to seek asylum. Understanding and supporting their responses to these experiences is complex, as the expression of recognized psychiatric conditions like PTSD varies significantly. Cultural norms and behavioral patterns must be considered to avoid misinterpreting trauma responses and to provide appropriate care.

The hippocampus, a brain region sensitive to stress, also has the ability to adapt. This offers potential for self-directed recovery through enriching, creative activities that combine memory work with positive social interaction. Research in geographical studies supports this idea of memory enrichment, highlighting its complexity beyond simple encoding, storage, and retrieval of experiences. Memory can be voluntary or involuntary, long-term or short-term, and sensory. The imaginative and creative aspects of memory are seen as performed spatially over time, suggesting that "memory is a key means by which the present is practiced." This aspect of memory's performance is closely tied to its vulnerability, particularly in the context of marginalized communities. This unique understanding of memory strongly resonates with the concept of home, especially for displaced individuals whose "homescapes" are intertwined with "traumascapes."

For the 12 participants in the Creative Recovery project, a common theme was the trauma of war, conflict, displacement, border crossings, detention, dispersal, and integration. They came from four continents, ten countries, and spoke six languages, yet shared feelings of emotional loss and longing for home. For ethical reasons, the project intentionally avoided focusing on loss and instead aimed to counter trauma by emphasizing positive memories of home and homeland. The initial step was to collaboratively define "home." Through their memories, participants shared diverse interpretations of what home meant to them, which were explored in interviews and workshops.

Memories of Home

Mohammed, a Palestinian from Gaza, viewed home as a multifaceted concept encompassing individual identity, collective belonging, and nationhood. He used childhood photographs to explain home's meaning and brought his keffiyeh, a traditional scarf symbolizing Palestinian nationality. The keffiyeh's pattern represents both unity (black dots symbolizing strong community bonds) and separation (the border pattern depicting Gaza's isolation). This pattern held deep personal meaning, interpretable based on individual experiences. For Mohammed, the keffiyeh was an abstract map linking his personal identity with his national identity, becoming a central creative element in his memoryscape map. This map also served as a "counter-map," reclaiming Gaza from political narratives and challenging official representations. Mohammed's personal growth during the project was significantly impacted by this process, affirming his advocacy for accurate portrayals of Gaza and refugees. After the project, he was granted refugee status, moved to Scotland, and began studying and working for the Scottish Refugee Council.

Deborah, a single mother from Lagos, Nigeria, connected home with community, socio-economic class, spirituality, and resilience. She described the contrasts between affluent and poorer areas of the city, with religious places acting as a spiritual connection. Land and home ownership are difficult in Nigeria, leading many to live in shared compounds with 15–40 people from various tribes. While these spaces offered socialization, Deborah also noted the constant vigilance required due to conflicts and accidents. Her fondest memories of home involved shared spirituality at her local church, where the experience of divine and congregational dialogue likely enhanced her memories.

Waleed, a human rights activist from Khartoum, Sudan, had been away from his homeland for 20 years but still felt unsettled in exile. His concept of home remained rooted in his childhood and where his family still lived. He emphasized his strong connection to the Nile, recalling memories of swimming to fruit farms across the river. For Waleed, memory of home was a fluid and active concept, aligning with the idea of memory's connection to geography. He found freedom in crossing boundaries between his upbringing and an imaginative life shaped by books and poems. Waleed's resistance to placing framed family pictures in his current flat, which he did not consider home, reflected his inability to put down roots. He used online photos of home and his travels as "memoryscapes" that defined him beyond geographical locations.

Mahmoud, a trainee doctor from Kobanî, Syria, currently a delivery driver in the UK, associated home with the scent of his mother's fresh flatbread, the freedom of animals in the mountains, evening gatherings with friends for tea or Ayran, shisha, card games, and stargazing in the garden. He found Dartmoor in the UK to be the most similar place to his home in Syria. Mahmoud explained that these feelings of home were shared by his village community, mostly farmers. By defining home beyond the physical building, almost all villagers were able to rebuild their homes in the exact same location after destruction from 2011 to 2016. He noted their mental capacity to rebuild "even bigger and better than before." The villagers' attachment to home was geographical, communal, and experiential, not solely to a structure.

Basma, a Fine Arts graduate and single mother from Baghdad, Iraq, found home in her connections with family and community. She spoke about this network expanding and shrinking with life events. As a divorcee in her last years in Iraq, she lived near her parents and daughter's school, observing children playing and being observed by distant neighbors. This highlighted the duality of protection and surveillance in a conservative society, particularly for single mothers, reflecting broader issues of freedom and oppression for women.

This range of definitions and meanings of home, expressed through memory, shows its universal human significance as a basic requirement for well-being and identity. However, it also reveals home's challenging fluidity. Home can be a boundless concept rooted in experience rather than a specific place. It can be spatial, temporal, emotive, or relational; something to be grasped, achieved, lived in, or longed for in the mind. Home means having a place, knowing one's place, and critically evaluating one's position in society. This adaptable meaning of home is evident in both lived and imagined experiences. This flexibility of home is linked to everyday homemaking practices, described as "spatial imaginaries."

Recalled through the subjective lens of memory, home is both less and more: societal restrictions fade, while the infinite possibilities of a peaceful childhood solidify. Memory is understood as a constructive process; each time a past moment is remembered, it is rebuilt using elements of episodic memory (recollective feelings) and semantic memory (factual knowledge). Memories are rarely perfectly accurate and are always adaptable. Memories are also seen as woven from multiple past narratives and material objects existing in time, forming "memoryscapes" or "geographies of memories." Participants' stories charted these complexities of memoryscapes through space and time, often describing home through activities, people, and journeys where it was a starting, middle, or end point. Material objects, such as traditional wedding attire, similarly complexly supported these imaginings of homescapes, representing not just personal milestones but also societal roles and treatment. Like home, material culture is crucial for identity formation and reaffirmation.

These understandings and mappings of home involve simultaneous scales, from the deeply personal to the national. With each retelling, new meanings emerge across past, present, and future associations. These scales are influenced by the degree of "rupture" in displaced individuals' daily lives and the space needed for recovery. The concept of "rupture" highlights migratory displacement and disrupted mobilities in journeys to safety, emphasizing the multiple stopping points and homes in the migratory journey that challenge a single narrative of settling and making a home in exile. The Creative Recovery project explored this connection between the fluid concept of home and the adaptable nature of memory through map-making, where maps became spaces for recovering from trauma.

Spatial Recovery: Impact of Common Threads in a Larger Tapestry

The process of deep mapping facilitated the creation of alternative imaginative spaces, visualizing disruptions in participants' journeys and offering a valuable sense of recovery and reclamation of making a home in exile. The concept of "rupture" is highlighted as a cause of both migratory displacement and obstacles in participants' journeys towards safety. Identifying "rupture" emphasizes the multiple stopping points and homes during migration, moving beyond a single narrative of settling and making a home in exile. Through one participant's work, the idea of "rupture" is illustrated in the complex and delicate process of mapping a space for recovery while mapping home from memory.

Mohammed’s view of home was rooted in building community relationships. His experiences volunteering and organizing university events had shaped his spatial practices of home, focusing on collective action. A favorite seaside promenade was a fluid space for shared dreams and social projects with friends. This fluid sense of space, supporting social agency for both the city and the individual, also influenced Mohammed's creative homescape collage, centered on his traditional Palestinian scarf.

The abstract geometric pattern of the keffiyeh holds rich meanings across various scales, from a personal room to the entire Gaza Strip, and from the deeply personal to the political. During his mapping process, Mohammed discovered that the three open-source maps of Gaza provided did not align when overlaid and, more importantly, did not match his vivid memories of Gaza's streets (as recent as 2017). Further research revealed that no single map of Gaza is identical due to political and security reasons. This finding encouraged Mohammed to map Gaza as he remembered it cognitively. This experience significantly boosted his growth through the project, reaffirming his passion for advocacy, particularly in addressing inaccurate and negative portrayals of Gaza and refugees in the UK. Shortly after the project, Mohammed was granted refugee status, moved to Scotland to pursue an MA, and secured a job at the Scottish Refugee Council.

This transformative process of slow, iterative, and cognitive deep mapping, which acknowledged "rupture," had a clearly positive effect on all participants, as reflected in their statements. The open-ended, co-created maps of their diverse memoryscapes of journeys in their homes and homelands not only reaffirmed their personal and cultural identity but also helped them adapt and re-root in their displaced context. Participants shared:

"It just made me realize more about myself, and my journey, and my childhood, and all this kind of memories. Being involved in the project, listening to my other colleagues, what they are saying and just starting to realize like there are too many things I didn’t know that they mean anything to me until the project came. It’s really good, like, even emotionally and psychological like, it definitely helped me a lot." (Tarig from Sudan, June 2019)

"In the past we have spoken many times about our memories, but this time it is different, it’s something unique, we portray our memories by mapping. Some part we feel nostalgic to the past, and the faces, and to the routes we used to take back home, but another part we are proud of what we have achieved. I have three homes actually, one of them is Palestine, Gaza with my family and friends, and one is here with my new friends, and one is the world itself. I map, therefore, I am." (Mohammed from Gaza, June 2029)

Beyond the self-reported sense of recovery from loss and displacement trauma, qualitative analysis of participants' responses revealed three additional findings. First, there was an emergence of optimistic self-projection into the future as creative agents. The re-constructed memoryscape of home became a fluid mental space for emotional release, and beyond recovery, a source of psychological resilience, supporting a shift towards thriving. Second, the conceptualization and physical creation of the maps allowed participants to "make real what was in our head," articulating and externalizing feelings, meanings, and ideas of home that fostered critical thinking and self-assertion in the pursuit of making a home in exile. Third, participants' growing awareness of social, cultural, and political issues affecting their countries of origin, the UK, and the EU developed into a strong interest in advocacy for social integration, community, and social work focused on fostering multicultural relationships.

These findings could also inform policy-making at local and national government levels regarding housing and educational/professional opportunities. The initial impact of this work was demonstrated through an exhibition of participants' creative maps and personal narratives, which included interactive opportunities for the audience to reflect on the patterns, joys, and challenges of making a home in an era of increasing transnational mobility. The following common themes emerged from the impact study of the "Mapping Creative Recovery" exhibition.

Home Negotiated

The exhibition survey answers consistently showed home as a plural, boundless, and re-negotiable concept that combines imagination, daily spatial practices, and a network of social relationships. While the exact mix of material and immaterial elements that form home varied significantly, all shared experiential markers of identity that are constantly being negotiated. This negotiation stems from spatial practices that are imagined, lived, and experienced in relation to mobility, material culture, time, and the uncertainty of making a home while on the move. It also allows for different scales of negotiation at the individual level, shaped by the act of making a home in exile, as well as the cultures and dynamics produced externally, all intertwined with notions of constant "rupture" to daily lives.

Home Transformed from Space to Imagination: The Self as a Nexus for Home

Most exhibition visitors, when asked "What does home mean to you?", primarily identified home as memory. This open-ended response significantly outweighed three multiple-choice options, highlighting the importance of memory in self-definition. While visitors' answers touched on common themes like safety, belonging, love, acceptance, calmness, contentment, and everyday familiarity, they also indicated that home is a dynamic space for growth, becoming, and imagination – an undefined entity continually reshaped by daily practices.

A final point of impact between the project and its public reception lies in the deeply personal narratives of self-representation co-produced by the participants. The combination of storytelling, shared memories, photographs capturing each participant's essence beyond their refugee status, and maps exploring their imaginative journeys of recovery supports art-based participatory action research methods that create sanctuary. This dimension is often absent in discussions about cities of sanctuary in the UK, where territorial and policy aspects frequently overshadow relational placemaking. The universal human experience, regardless of cultural background, and the fundamental need to be seen and heard above misinformation, also resonated throughout the exhibition's feedback.

Home: A Key to Collective Agency and Integration

Home belongs to a community with shared, yet negotiable, values, and possesses the ability to create positive social change beyond its immediate influence. Through an open brainstorming session for future research to expand on the current project, exhibition visitors emphasized the importance of sustained community outreach and involvement for strong social integration, distinct from assimilation. Participants suggested this could be achieved by shifting public opinion through educational initiatives, particularly within local school communities, with the broader goal of influencing social policy. Furthermore, respondents highlighted the crucial role of refugees' creative engagement in development projects, especially housing and broader "more-than-human" imaginaries of home (e.g., economic, spiritual, aesthetic), as essential for integration.

Conclusion: Future Imaginings

The project guided participants on a journey of recovery through map-making, employing an expanded model of memory in space and time where the concept of memory and home merged into "memoryscapes" of creative recovery amidst displacement. These journeys extended beyond map creation. Some participants have since received refugee status and continue to navigate new life challenges and migration-related systems of control and assistance. This affirms that making a home is an ongoing process of negotiation, not a fixed destination.

Through the Experience Based Co-Design approach to mapping refugees' memories of homemaking, the project revealed participants' exceptional awareness of transnational connections, their skills in digital social media, and a complex, dynamic understanding of what it means to truly make themselves at home again. The deep mapping process was enriched by diverse, multimodal testimonies, which challenged reductive labels placed on displaced individuals by highlighting the varied nature of their journeys through "traumascapes" projected onto the maps.

The risks associated with arts-based projects involving refugees and asylum seekers have been noted. Even counter-narratives can inadvertently reinforce stereotypes if artists lack lived experience or critical self-awareness, or if they assume that collaborations are immune to misrepresentation, thus perpetuating voicelessness and disempowerment. The project remained mindful of these pitfalls by focusing on the process of mapping and its meaning concerning participants' memoryscapes of home and their future imaginings. Attention was paid to identifying resources and processes that could be applied beyond the immediate project and participatory action research, enabling individuals to repeatedly mobilize them for empowerment in other contexts, leading to sustained empowered agency.

By focusing on the diverse notion of home, the project enabled co-researchers to work across various scales, from the personal to the urban and national. They actively sought methods, like deep-mapping, to explore the challenging but productive interplay between these levels. The shift in cartography towards understanding maps as dynamic, relational, and evolving processes acknowledges the co-constitutive link between map space and the real world, which has both ideological and practical implications. This shift has opened up the act and space of mapping to local knowledge and spatial practices previously marginalized by traditional cartography, emphasizing a plurality of Indigenous, Black, and now refugee "counter-mappings." Participants creatively re-examined, challenged, and enriched digital cartographic representations of their homes through the tangible process of making, creating a social space for meaningful encounters and the renegotiation of their situated selves and social relationships, both in discussions and through embodied experiences.

This article places the role of memory work at the heart of homemaking practices, linking memory and home across different scales of "rupture" through performance and imagination. This expanded model of "memoryscape" provided a sense of personhood, self-efficacy, and a safe space to express emotions and feelings about home and self. The connection between home and self is crucial for establishing new social negotiations of differences and similarities, influenced by factors like race, gender, and ethnic background. Such imagined and recovered negotiations are evident in the act of making, rooted in significant urban and domestic spaces.

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Abstract

Escaping war and persecution during the twenty-tens, over two-million displacees made life-risking journeys into Europe. Trauma continued for those who managed to cross borders and reach new havens: grappling with migration systems, searching for decent housing, and striving for social integration. This article presents empirical findings of a multi-modal participatory mapping project conducted with refugees and asylum seekers in Southwest England, and highlights the impact of memory and deep creative mapping on the spatial practice of making-home in forced displacement. The resulting maps embody spaces of recovery; memoryscapes revealing synergies between the constructs of memory and the concept of home in exile. The project asks how a creative participatory method of mapping home through memory reconsolidation can ameliorate the trauma of displacement and aid the re-making of home.

Introduction

The asylum system in the UK places people seeking refuge in difficult situations. They often wait for months, or even years, for their cases to be reviewed based on UN Convention for Refugees criteria. The UK has one of the largest systems in Europe for holding migrants. After being held, individuals are often moved again through a limited national program in various cities. This process continues to cause distress as people navigate the UK migration system, search for suitable housing, and try to fit into society. This pattern is similar across Europe. Beyond physical injuries, emotional distress often increases. Recovery is often hindered by strict asylum policies that make it harder to heal. For those seeking asylum, this distress is made worse by feeling disconnected from their culture and familiar social networks in new urban areas. Trauma can become a lifelong issue, affecting brain function and memory. This experience of trauma becomes more intense for each displaced person as they remember and mourn the loss of loved ones, homes, and homelands without the benefit of caring therapy.

This article explores creative ways to help people recover through interdisciplinary approaches to space. It looks at how memory relates to home over time and space. The aim is to contribute to new studies on how creativity helps people after traumatic displacement. It also examines how spatial, narrative, and material practices can help shift post-traumatic recovery towards a sense of personal fulfillment and belonging. Based on findings from a participatory mapping project with refugees and asylum seekers in Southwest England, the article explores the power of slow, repeated, and collaboratively designed methods, specifically deep-mapping. The concept of memory-rich "home landscapes" supports a person-centered approach to understanding how a sense of home is rebuilt and how people actively integrate after displacement. From an ethical standpoint, and through collaborative methods and shared knowledge, this project and article contribute to the complex field of research on social and spatial justice in action.

The article follows a narrative, process-driven structure. It highlights the insights and experiences of participants, connecting them to important discussions in geography, displacement studies, psychology, and spatial practice. This approach discusses ideas of home, and how it connects and disconnects from its surroundings (like a neighborhood or city), through the lens of spatial imagination. This idea is further explored by looking at the material culture of home and homeland. This reciprocal approach helps create a sense of personal power and identity, seen as keeping "a capacity for change." At the intersection of asylum (integrating into urban life), displacement (losing home and homeland), and making-home (the temporary nature of rebuilding a home in exile), the article focuses on a detailed examination of the connection between migration and home, especially regarding space and time for those on the margins. The role of memory, particularly "memoryscape," is also considered vital for rebuilding a sense of home and affirming identities. This builds on existing work about geography and memory, as well as the changing nature of memory in understanding place (memoryscape) and aiding recovery. Importantly, the article argues that the construction of memory guides the process of rebuilding a home after displacement through deep-mapping and participation.

This article, seen as a research-based spatial practice, shifts the discussion of home from a fixed space, like a container for things (especially in policy and housing), to a more fluid, socially engaged idea of multiple spaces in geographical terms. It becomes a space of "becoming" that is open, negotiated, and reimagined. Methods for designing this space depend on personal agency and community activism. Therefore, home is approached through the performance of practice, emotion, and memory, as they are closely linked to becoming, agency, creativity, and imagination.

The first section of the article describes the project and its main ideas. The second section introduces the participatory methods used. The third section highlights how participants gradually developed memoryscapes of home, connecting trauma and memory. This latter section focuses on participants' memories of their homes and homelands, recalled through interviews and workshops. The fourth section illustrates the "space of recovery" — the map and the deep-mapping process — and emphasizes the importance of "rupture" in the relationship between memory and the concept of home, as processed and expressed visually on the map. Findings in this section are supported by feedback from project participants in exit interviews and from exhibition attendees. This feedback contributes to the larger understanding of how home is negotiated, imagined, and acts as a key to collective action towards integration. The conclusion emphasizes future imaginings of displacement that are constantly evolving, and how they overcome strict asylum and resettlement policies.

Creative Recovery Through Spatial Practice

The "Creative Recovery: Mapping Refugees' Memories of Home as Heritage" project, funded by the European Cultural Foundation, was a pilot project focused on refugees and asylum seekers. It was launched by the Displacement Studies Research Network at the University of Plymouth between September 2018 and October 2019. Using a creative participatory action research approach, the project shifts attention to individuals seeking refuge as creative participants in the recovery process after the initial trauma of being moved across the UK. This approach allows them to become co-researchers and co-producers of vivid and revealing representations of their original home environments. It also helps them explore how valued aspects of their material, spatial, and socio-cultural identity can be revived as they integrate into new communities. The project's main idea is based on the changing meaning of home and the material culture of belonging, which are reformed as sites of memory in situations of forced displacement. It asks how a creative, participatory method of mapping "homescapes" through memory can help ease the trauma of displacement and assist in the rebuilding of home.

Existing research with forcibly displaced people in cities has mostly focused on social service and health-related projects, along with strong investigations into the broader systems that shape the refugee experience. Research that combines creativity in spatial practice, memory, and migration has extensively covered the trauma of conflict, displacement in camps, and border crossings. However, there has been little research on countering the trauma of integrating into countries of arrival. Notably, there is a lack of research projects using deep, slow, and repetitive participatory mapping processes that weave together memory and history for making-home in exile.

Successful projects that examine the "migration-home connection" explore how memory, experience, and relationships to material objects create a shared sense of home. Home is therefore seen as more than just a physical space, defined and considered from national, personal, and collective viewpoints. This understanding of homemaking goes beyond the domestic; instead, it identifies the processes of belonging, settling, dwelling, and asserting ownership over space, and how these depend on the economic opportunities and social structures available to displaced communities. Homemaking looks at immigration at the local level and the dynamic, small-scale relationships between hosts and guests. While homemaking can empower, it is not always a fair process, as it is influenced by gender, age, country of origin, and other factors. These other factors and relationships are seen as "more-than-human relations" of imagination that blur boundaries, making the homes of displaced people shift between the material relationships of "nature and culture, private and public, domestic and non-domestic." Additionally, the gradual development of a sense of belonging in new host contexts has been shown to be positively supported by opportunities for "curated sociability," where the act of being together and engaging in activities within friendship or mentorship schemes has boosted engagement with the wider urban context and furthered connections with host communities. All of these were relationships that the project addressed and used as discussion points among participants in workshops.

The "spatial turn" has allowed for a deeper engagement with creative methods for social research on migration. It recognizes the power of visual, participatory, creative, and collaboratively produced research with migrants and refugees to have a transformative impact on their health and well-being, as well as contributing to their social integration. This further supports the innovative and repeatable approach developed and tested through the Creative Recovery project, providing that crucial link between the inward-looking work of recovering from trauma to outward-looking social connection and integration in the new context of making-home after displacement.

The capacity of creative and participatory research methods to create a sense of safety is strongly argued for in research. People with direct experience of forced migration are identified as "Knowledge Holders," central figures and leaders in research on the refugee experience. The project agrees with the advocacy for creative participatory methods. Throughout the work, there is an awareness of the possibility of falling into a "fixed narrative" of the refugee experience. Therefore, the importance of breaking down and rebuilding the imagery, narratives, and identities surrounding this topic is emphasized.

Experience-Based Co-Design and Creative Deep Mapping

The "Creative Recovery" project intentionally highlighted participants' lived experiences, aligning with research that links creativity and healing. This process encouraged personal agency and allowed for self-representation by exploring elements of identity. It was guided by a participatory action approach known as Experience Based Co-Design (EBCD), a method used to develop and improve health services based on patients' stories and experiences.

The project was built on a slow, repetitive, and reflective process over nine months. Participants explored ideas of self, home, identity, memory, displacement, and integration. This involved initial interviews, a series of biweekly mapping workshops on specific themes, exit interviews, and self-representation through a group exhibition of project outcomes with audience interaction. The project's method emphasized personal agency and self-representation through creative exploration rooted in participants' lived experiences, mapped through emotional "touchpoints" they identified. These touchpoints represented moments of departure, intersection, and resolution related to the concept of "home."

These emotional touchpoints, which were important topics from each participant's point of view, loosely revolved around the idea of home, at least initially. Touchpoints brought out feelings of happiness or sadness in the person telling the story, but also in others listening or reading it. Most importantly, however, they addressed issues of "testimonial injustice," which occurs when a speaker is denied a voice by being unheard or invalidated during interactions with others, especially those with more power or social standing.

In line with research highlighting the impact of storytelling in medicine, especially for establishing compassionate care, multimodal storytelling techniques were used to create powerful opportunities to address testimonial injustice. These testimonies became touchpoints; feeling heard means feeling validated. Within the workshops, these touchpoints formed the basis of discussions and created shared experiences, also fostering empathy and connection among the group, which participants later described as meaningful. These touchpoints were also central to shaping the narrative maps, with participants becoming co-designers and co-producers of material that communicated and visualized their experiences and meanings. This use of touchpoints expands on the use of mapping "traumascapes" in psychological research and psychogeography. It does so by having participants trace the uncertain parts of the refugee experience in a post-colonial landscape, using the idea of home (homescapes) as sites of memory in response to displacement, aligning with key areas in migration studies.

Participants led the way in creating memories of their homescapes through maps, drawings, and personal photographs during a series of themed workshops. These workshops encouraged a multi-modal, multi-skill approach. During the project's nine workshops, a diverse group of refugees and asylum seekers from ten different countries learned experimental deep mapping techniques. These techniques (geographical, memory, narratives and stories, objects, photographs) were used to capture memories of everyday journeys taken at home. This method focused on bringing out previous and important memories of home and the meanings tied to them; some were clear, others still needed to be identified and expressed. Later questions explored how these memories could be acted out as experiences in the UK. This method avoids direct questions like "How did you feel about leaving your homes/homelands?" or "What have you left behind?" Instead, the discussions and activities naturally led to the collaborative creation of a story of personal value and agency, where loss was only one part of the personal experience, rather than an all-defining label.

To achieve this, mapping was used as a process to spark imagination. It combined stories about objects and sentimental photographs with slow and repeated drawing and tracing of daily journeys participants took in their neighborhoods (in their homelands). This included tracking the locations of some photographs and sharing other memories of making a home. These "cognitive maps," also known as "counter-maps," are personal representations of how time and uncertainty are experienced. They are mentally charted through spaces of movement by people fleeing home. Often, they challenge the "politics of bordering and ordering" created by a state. Mapping provided the perfect set of tools, leading to new ways of making a home as it shifted between imagining, remembering, creating, and transforming. Building on the idea of "Spatial Stories," the maps traced and reframed the spatial memories of participants' homes (homescapes). This reaffirmed that making a home is an essential part of everyday spatial practices and a powerful act of rebuilding a sense of place in the world.

Therefore, maps, when considered and used in this way, are fluid, relational, and temporary. They are created while navigating and redefining space and time. This definition aligns with the idea of mapping as a "creative practice" of "finding that is also a founding." It suggests that mapping uncovers "realities previously unseen or unimagined, even across seemingly exhausted ground."

This process of "uncovering realities" was observed with several project participants, especially towards the end. They found that the slow and patient work of rediscovering and rebuilding a sense of self in connection with home became a space where they experienced feelings of ownership, confidence, and self-worth.

In addition to maps, other visual methods like photographs, films, and storytelling were used to gather narratives (both real and imagined). These revealed the hidden complexities of what "home" meant to each participant. When using imagery for socially focused research, the challenges of this approach are understood, such as "the problem with images" which creates "the problem with audiences." However, the focus remains on the "meaning" negotiated and constructed collectively by researchers, the audience, and the visual materials produced, overlaying trauma, memory, and meanings of home onto the space of a map.

Trauma, Memory, and Home

Individuals forced to leave their home country often suffer from a range of terrible experiences before leaving, during their journey, and upon arrival in the country where they seek asylum. Understanding and supporting their responses to these experiences is complex. This is due to significant differences in how individuals express recognized psychiatric conditions like PTSD. Using these labels can be misleading when assessing responses to trauma and providing care, unless viewed through the more detailed lens of cultural norms and behavior patterns.

The hippocampus is particularly sensitive to stress but can also adapt, offering the potential for self-led recovery through enriching, creative activities that combine memory work and positive social interaction. Research affirms this enrichment of memory in geographical studies, emphasizing its complexity beyond the basic processes of encoding, storing, recording, and retrieving experiences. These can happen sequentially or not, voluntarily and involuntarily (consciously or unconsciously), in the long or short term, and through sensory means. This research places the imaginative and creative aspect of memory in the performance of practice embodied spatially through time, stating: "Memory is a key means by which the present is practiced." This aspect of memory's performance is deeply linked to its fragility, especially for vulnerable and traditionally excluded communities. This unique understanding of memory certainly aligns with the concept of home, particularly for displaced people, where "homescapes" are intertwined with "traumascapes."

The shared story of war, conflict, displacement, border crossings, detention, dispersal, and integration was a common theme for the 12 participants in the Creative Recovery group. They came from four continents, ten countries, and spoke six languages, but were united by emotional loss and a longing for home. For ethical reasons, the project intentionally avoided discussing loss for its entire duration. Instead, the focus was on countering the trauma of loss through positive memories of home and homeland. To begin, there was a need to create a shared understanding of what home meant. Through memories, participants described different interpretations of home, which were explored during interviews and workshops.

Memories of Home

For Mohammed, a Palestinian from Gaza who recently earned a management degree, home is a complex and complete concept. It exists between the individual and the collective sense of identity, belonging, and nationhood. In addition to childhood photographs, which he used to explain the meaning of home, Mohammed brought his traditional Palestinian scarf, the keffiyeh. This scarf represents his Palestinian nationality. Its pattern symbolizes unity (black dots showing strong bonds among Palestinians) but also separation (the border pattern represents Gaza's separation from the rest of the world). This pattern holds deep personal meaning through its abstract nature, which individuals can interpret based on their life experiences.

From this perspective, Mohammed's keffiyeh is an abstract map that connects his personal identity and national identity. It quickly became the creative focus of his memoryscape map. Filtered through Mohammed's own experience, the resulting piece also functions as a "counter-map," reclaiming Gaza from political power and challenging its "authority to write the earth."

Deborah, a single mother from Lagos, Nigeria, connects home with community, influenced by socio-economic class, spirituality, and resilience. She described the contrast between wealthier, poorer, and rougher areas of the city, with religious worship places acting as a spiritual bond. Land and home ownership are difficult to achieve in Nigeria, leading many to live in shared compounds where housing units are rented at very high prices. Although 15–40 people from different tribes share houses in these compounds and socialize, Deborah's account also suggested a constant need for vigilance due to fights, violence towards children, and accidents: "If everyone could build, nobody would live in shared houses." Deborah's best memories of home involve gathering with others at her local church to share their spirituality. Though not explicitly stated, perhaps the equalizing effect of the interaction between divinity and the congregation subconsciously enhanced her experience and memory of these events.

Waleed, a human rights activist from Khartoum, Sudan, has been away from his homeland for 20 years yet still does not feel at home in exile. He states that his idea of home remains rooted in his childhood and where his family still lives. Waleed emphasizes his strong connection to the Nile and memories of swimming across to fruit farms on the other side of the river. For Waleed, his memory of home is a rebellious and expressive concept, reflecting the connection between memory and geography. Waleed found the freedom to cross boundaries between the sensory experience of his childhood place and the imagined alternative life he built through books, novels, and poems.

Waleed explained that his inability to settle down is shown in his refusal to display framed pictures of his family on any walls in a place that could never be home, including his current flat. With the spatial awareness of a wanderer, Waleed uses online photos of home and all the places he has visited as memoryscapes that define him beyond the geographical limits of his current, past, or future location.

Mahmoud, a trainee doctor from Kobanî, Syria, currently working as a delivery driver in the UK, experiences home through the smell of his mother’s freshly baked flatbread from a clay oven. Home is also the mountains and the freedom of animals roaming, his evening gatherings with friends drinking tea in winter and cold yogurt drink (Ayran) in summer, smoking shisha, playing cards, and sleeping outside in the garden counting stars at night. He noted that his first visit to Dartmoor felt like the closest place in the UK to his home in Syria. Mahmoud stated that these feelings and associations of home are shared among his entire village community, who are mainly farmers. By separating home from just the physical structure of the house (or stone, in his village’s case), almost all villagers were able to return and rebuild homes in the exact same geographical location after their complete destruction during constant shelling and bombing between 2011 and 2016. He further recalls: ‘We had the mental capacity to make them even bigger and better than before.’ The villagers’ attachment to home was geographical, communal, and experiential, yet never to a building itself.

Basma, a single mother from Baghdad, Iraq, and a Fine Arts graduate, finds home in her connections with her family and the community around them. She primarily discussed how this network expanded and contracted depending on major life events. During her last few years in Iraq, as a divorcee, she lived in an apartment building near her parents' house and her daughter's school. She remembered being able to see and hear children playing in the playground during break time, but also being watched from other balconies by distant neighbors. This hinted at the fact that in a conservative society (which had become more extreme after years of war, sanctions, and sectarian violence), a single mother in a flat is both judged for her past and protected by neighbors. This contrast of protection and surveillance, among others like freedom and oppression of women in general, is common in a conservative society.

This collection of definitions and rich comparisons of meaning around the idea of home through memory reveals the universal, human connection to home as a basic requirement for well-being and personal identity. This includes having a home, knowing one, making or longing for one, or choosing not to be tied to one. It also shows home's challenging fluidity. Home becomes an endless concept rooted in experience rather than place. It becomes spatial and temporal, or purely emotional and relational. It can be understood, achieved, lived in, and built, or longed for in the intangible realm of the mind and imagination. Home means having a place, knowing one's place, and critiquing one's place within society. This flexible meaning of home is evident through lived and imagined experiences. Research connects this changing nature of home to everyday homemaking practices, which are described as spatial imaginings.

Home, when re-examined through the imperfect art of memory, is both less and more: less, as the constraints of society fade; and more, as the endless possibilities of a peaceful, hopeful childhood become solid. It is suggested that each time a moment from life is remembered, it is constructed anew. This is done using the building blocks of episodic memory (feelings of being somewhere) and semantic memory (concrete knowledge about the world and personal history). Memories are almost never entirely accurate and can always change.

Memories are woven from many past stories and physical objects that exist in time. These are also known as "memoryscapes" or "geographies of memories." Similar to other research on memory and nostalgia, participants' stories chart all these complexities of memoryscapes through space and time. They often choose to describe home through the activities that take place there, the people who fill it with daily joys and sorrows, and the journeys for which it is a starting, middle, and end point. The physical objects brought in to support these diverse imaginings of homescapes are equally complex. For example, traditional wedding attire not only represents a significant milestone in a woman's life, starting from home, but also her place in and treatment by society. Like home, the inclusion of material culture plays a vital part in creating and reaffirming identity. According to one perspective, homes, clothes, and belongings can be both restrictive and instrumental in developing a sense of personal power and identity.

A mix of scales, from the very personal to the national, runs through these understandings and mappings of home. With each retelling and remembering, the context shifts to allow for new meanings and associations—past, present, and future. These scales are influenced by the degree of "rupture" in the daily lives of displaced people and the space needed for recovery. Research explores the meaning of detours as disruptions in the movement of forcibly displaced Sri Lankan refugees trying to resettle in Sydney, Australia.

In the new way of thinking about mobility, places are interconnected processes, experiences, and networks built over a lifetime, carried to new homes and resettlement locations. Different memories, experiences, and identities gather and are carried too; points of disruption become parts of life. The Creative Recovery project engaged with this combination of the changing concept of home and the flexibility of memory through map-making. In this process, maps became spaces for recovering from trauma, which is explored further in the next section.

Spatial Recovery: Impact of Common Threads in a Larger Tapestry

Deep mapping helped create alternative imaginative spaces. It visualized disruptions in participants' journeys and provided a valuable sense of recovery and reclaiming a sense of home while in exile. Attention is drawn to the idea of "rupture" as something that causes both displacement and detours in movement, as well as blocked paths to safety for participants. Identifying "rupture" highlights the many stopping points and homes in the migration journey. This challenges a single story of what settling and making a home in exile means. Through the work of one participant, the idea of "rupture" is illustrated in the intricate and fragile process of mapping a space of recovery while mapping home from memory.

Mohammed's approach to home was based on building and nurturing community relationships. His experiences volunteering and organizing events during university had shaped his spatial practices of home with a transformative power aimed at collective action. A favorite seaside promenade was a fluid space for shared dreams and social projects, planned while walking alongside friends. This flexible understanding of space, which enabled and supported social action for both the city and the self, was also filtered through Mohammed's creative homescape collage, built around his traditional Palestinian scarf.

The geometric pattern holds a rich array of meanings across various scales—from a person's own room to the entire Gaza Strip, and from the deeply personal to the political. As part of his mapping process, he discovered that the three open-source maps of Gaza provided did not match when overlaid. More importantly to him, they did not reflect his vivid memories of Gaza's streets (from as recently as 2017). Further research revealed that for political and security reasons, no two maps of Gaza are identical. This finding encouraged Mohammed to map Gaza the way he remembered it in his mind. This directly affected his growth through the project by strengthening his passion for advocacy, particularly in addressing the inaccurate and negative portrayal of Gaza and refugees in the UK. Soon after the project finished, Mohammed was granted refugee status. He moved to Scotland to pursue an MA in International Relations and Politics at the University of Edinburgh and was shortly after offered a job at the Scottish Refugee Council.

This transformative and informal process of slow, repeated, and cognitive deep mapping, traced through "rupture," had a clearly positive effect on all participants, as shown in the quotes below. The open-ended, collaboratively created maps of diverse memoryscapes of journeys taken at home (and homelands) have encouraged not only the reaffirmation of a sense of personal and cultural self, but also their adaptation and re-rooting in a displaced context. Participants recalled:

"It just made me realize more about myself, and my journey, and my childhood, and all these kinds of memories. Being involved in the project, listening to my other colleagues, what they are saying and just starting to realize like there are too many things I didn’t know that they mean anything to me until the project came. It’s really good, like, even emotionally and psychologically like, it definitely helped me a lot." (Tarig from Sudan, from an interview at the opening night of the exhibition, June 2019).

"In the past we have spoken many times about our memories, but this time it is different, it’s something unique, we portray our memories by mapping. Some part we feel nostalgic to the past, and the faces, and to the routes we used to take back home, but another part we are proud of what we have achieved.

I have three homes actually, one of them is Palestine, Gaza with my family and friends, and one is here with my new friends, and one is the world itself.

I map, therefore, I am." (Mohammed from Gaza, from an interview with BBC Spotlight Southwest, June 2029).

Alongside the participants' self-reported sense of recovery from loss and the trauma of displacement, three additional findings emerged from the analysis of their responses. First, an optimistic self-projection into the future as creative agents was observed. Once rebuilt, the memoryscape of home becomes a fluid mental place of emotional release. Beyond recovery, it becomes a source of psychological resilience, supporting a shift towards flourishing. Second, designing and physically creating the maps allowed participants to "make real what was in our head" (as one participant remarked during a workshop). This helped them articulate and express feelings, meanings, and ideas of home that support critical thinking and self-assertion in the pursuit of making a home in exile. Third, participants' growing awareness of social, cultural, and political issues affecting their countries of origin, the UK, and the EU developed into a strong interest in advocating for social integration, as well as community and social work focused on fostering multicultural relationships.

These findings can also inform policy-making at local and central government levels regarding housing and educational and professional opportunities. The initial impact of this ripple effect has already been tested through an exhibition showcasing participants' creative maps and personal stories. This exhibition also offered interactive opportunities for the audience to reflect on the patterns, joys, and challenges of making a home in an era of increasingly common international mobility. Below are the common themes that emerged from the impact study of the Mapping Creative Recovery exhibition.

Home Negotiated

Home, as a multiple, undefined, and adaptable realm that blends imagination, daily spatial practices, and a network of related social relationships, is the unifying theme in the exhibition survey responses. The precise combination of material and immaterial elements that form home varies significantly, though all largely share a range of experiential markers of identity that are constantly being negotiated. This negotiation results from the spatial practice that is imagined, lived, and experienced in relation to movement, material culture, the passage of time, and the uncertainty of making a home while on the move. It further allows for different considerations of negotiation at the personal level, shaped by the act of making a home in exile, as well as the cultures and dynamics this creates outside the individual, all woven into ideas of constant "rupture" to daily lives.

Home Transformed from Space to Imagination: The Self as a Nexus for Home

Most exhibition visitors, when asked "What does home mean to you?", strongly associated home with memory. This open-ended answer was chosen more often than three multiple-choice options, showing the importance of memory in providing a space for self-definition. While visitors' answers touched on some common themes (safety and belonging, love and acceptance, calmness and contentment, the familiarity of everyday life), they also indicated that home is a dynamic space for growth, becoming, and imagination. It is an undefined entity constantly reshaped through everyday practices.

A final point of connection between the project and its public reception centers on the individual, deeply personal stories of self-representation co-produced by the project participants. The combination of storytelling and shared memories, photographs/portraits capturing the essence of each participant beyond their refugee status, and the maps exploring their imaginative journeys of recovery, supports art-based participatory action research methods towards creating a sanctuary. This dimension is often missing from discussions about cities of sanctuary in the UK, where aspects of territory and policy often overshadow the relational creation of place. The commonalities of human experience, regardless of cultural background, and the fundamental need to be seen and heard above the eroding noise of ignorance and misrepresentation, further resonated through the exhibition's open feedback.

Home: A Key to Collective Agency and Integration

Home belongs to a community with shared, yet adaptable, values, and the ability to bring about positive social change beyond its immediate influence. Through an open-ended brainstorming session for future research that would build upon and expand the current project, exhibition visitors highlighted the importance of sustained community outreach and involvement for strong social integration, which should not be confused with assimilation. Participants suggested that this could be achieved by changing public opinion through educational initiatives, especially within local school communities, with the broader goal of influencing social policy creation. Furthermore, respondents noted the crucial role of refugees' creative involvement in development projects, particularly housing, but more generally with "more-than-human imaginaries"—for example, economic, spiritual, and aesthetic ideas of home—as key to integration.

Conclusion: Future Imaginings

The project led participants on a journey of recovery through maps. It engaged an expanded understanding of memory in space and time, where the idea of memory and the concept of home overlapped into "memoryscapes" of creative recovery amidst displacement. However, these journeys did not stop at map-making. Some project participants have since been granted refugee status and continue to navigate new life challenges and migration-based systems of control and assistance (e.g., social services). This confirms that making a home is a process of negotiation rather than a fixed destination.

Developed through the Experience Based Co-Design approach to mapping refugees' memories of making a home, the project revealed participants' exceptional awareness of international connections. It also highlighted their related skills in digital social media and a complex, disrupted understanding of what it would take to truly feel at home again. The deep mapping process was enriched by diverse, multi-modal testimonies, challenging the simplistic labels placed on displaced individuals by highlighting the variety of their journeys through "traumascapes" projected onto the maps.

Research discusses the risks of arts-based projects involving refugees and asylum seekers. Even when creating alternative stories to harmful narratives, such projects can reinforce existing stereotypes if the artist lacks lived experience or critical self-reflection. This can also happen by assuming that collaborative efforts are inherently free from misrepresentation, thereby continuing to silence, alienate, and disempower participants. These pitfalls are kept in mind by focusing on the mapping process and its meaning in relation to participants' memoryscapes of home and their future imaginings. The crucial step of identifying resources and processes that can be applied beyond the immediate project and research is also emphasized, enabling individuals to repeatedly use them to exercise empowerment elsewhere towards stable and repeated forms of agency.

With its focus on the diverse notion of home, the project allowed co-researchers to work across various scales, from the personal to the urban and national. They actively sought methods, like deep-mapping, to explore the challenging but productive clash of these levels. The shift in understanding cartography towards a more process-oriented, contingent, and evolving view recognizes the interconnected link between map-space and world-place, which is both ideological and practical. This shift has opened the act and space of mapping to local knowledge and spatial practices previously marginalized by traditional (colonial) cartography. It now highlights a variety of Indigenous, Black, and now, refugee "counter-mappings." Participants creatively revisited, challenged, and qualitatively improved digital maps of their homes through the hands-on process of making. This created a social space for meaningful encounters and the renegotiation of the situated self and social relationships, both through discussion and embodied experiences.

The article places the role of memory work at the core of homemaking practices, linking the two ideas of memory and home at different levels of disruption through performance and imagination. This expanded model of "memoryscape" provided a sense of personal identity, self-efficacy, and a safe space to express emotions and feelings about home and self. The connection between home and self is vital for establishing new social negotiations of differences and similarities, influenced by factors such as race, gender, and ethnic background. Such spatially imagined and recovered negotiations are evident in the act of making, anchored in significant urban and domestic spaces.

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Abstract

Escaping war and persecution during the twenty-tens, over two-million displacees made life-risking journeys into Europe. Trauma continued for those who managed to cross borders and reach new havens: grappling with migration systems, searching for decent housing, and striving for social integration. This article presents empirical findings of a multi-modal participatory mapping project conducted with refugees and asylum seekers in Southwest England, and highlights the impact of memory and deep creative mapping on the spatial practice of making-home in forced displacement. The resulting maps embody spaces of recovery; memoryscapes revealing synergies between the constructs of memory and the concept of home in exile. The project asks how a creative participatory method of mapping home through memory reconsolidation can ameliorate the trauma of displacement and aid the re-making of home.

Summary

It can be very hard for people seeking safety in the UK. They often wait a long time to find out if they can stay. Many of these people have been held in special centers. Even after leaving, they often have to move to different cities. This causes more stress. Dealing with new places and trying to fit in can be tough.

People who have gone through such hard times often carry a lot of hurt inside. This can make it hard to feel better. Being in new places, far from what they know, can make this hurt even worse. Losing loved ones, homes, and countries can deeply affect a person's mind and memory. They often do not get the help they need to heal.

This article talks about ways to help people heal by using art and creating special places. It looks at how making art and telling stories about home can help people feel more like themselves and find a sense of belonging again. The ideas come from a project where people seeking safety in Southwest England made maps of their memories. This project used a slow, careful way of working together to help people draw their feelings about home. This method helps people understand how to make a new home and fit into a new place. The project also focused on doing research in a fair way, by working with people to create knowledge together.

The article tells a story about how the project worked. It shares what people learned and how it connects to bigger ideas in the study of places, being displaced, feelings, and art. It talks about how a home is more than just a house, and how it changes over time. It also looks at how memories and things from home can help people feel strong and build a new identity. The article uses ideas from different experts to show how memories of home are important for healing and finding a place again.

This article shows how thinking about home can move from just a building to a bigger idea of many possible futures. It talks about how creating things and remembering can help people find their way and feel like they belong. The article has different parts. First, it explains the project's main ideas. Then, it talks about how people worked together to make maps. The next part shows how people's memories of home helped them deal with sad past events. It also shares what people said about the project, showing how it helped them feel better and imagine a future. The end part talks about how these new ideas can help change strict rules about safety and moving to a new place.

Creative Recovery through Spatial Practice

The "Creative Recovery" project helped people seeking safety. It got money from the European Cultural Foundation and ran from 2018 to 2019. It was started by people at the University of Plymouth. The project helped people who had been forced to move to different parts of the UK. It helped them use art to feel better after hard times. This way, they became active in showing what their first homes were like. They explored how their old ways of life, places, and shared culture could be brought back to life as they made new friends in new towns. The project thought about how home means different things to different people. It also looked at how things from home help people feel like they belong, even when they are forced to leave. It asked how using art to map memories of home could help heal the hurt of being displaced and help people make new homes.

Most studies about people forced to move to cities look at health and social services, or the bigger rules that affect them. Some studies look at the hurt from war or living in camps, or crossing borders. But not many studies have focused on helping people heal from the hurt of trying to fit into new countries. There are also not many projects that use slow, careful ways of mapping that connect memories and history to making a home in a new place.

Experts like Paolo Boccagni have done good work looking at the link between moving and home. They show how memories, experiences, and things from home create a shared feeling of home. Home is more than just a place; it is felt in national, personal, and group ways. Boccagni says that making a home is not just about the house itself. It includes feeling like you belong, settling down, living in a place, and feeling like it is yours. This also depends on jobs and social support that new people can get. Making a home can make people feel strong, but it is not always fair. It can be affected by a person's gender, age, or where they came from. These other things, like ideas and feelings, can make homes for displaced people feel like a mix of nature and human life, private and public, home and not-home. Also, chances to spend time with others in planned ways have been shown to help people feel like they belong in new places. This includes doing things with friends or mentors, which helps them get involved in the city and connect with local people. The project worked with all these ideas and used them to start talks among the people involved.

Using art to study how people move has led to new ways of doing research. This type of research understands that visual art, working with people, and creating things together can help people who have moved. It can improve their health and well-being and help them fit into society. This also shows that the "Creative Recovery" project has new and useful ideas that can be used again. It helps connect the healing of inner hurt with making friends and fitting into a new home after being displaced.

Caroline Lenette says that using art and working with people in research can create a safe place. She believes that people who have lived through forced migration are the most important people to lead studies on this topic. The project agrees with using art and working with people. The project was careful not to tell a single story about being displaced. Instead, it showed how images, stories, and identities about this topic can be taken apart and put back together in new ways.

Experience Based Co-Design and Creative Deep Mapping as a Combined Methodology of Research

The Creative Recovery project put the real-life experiences of the people first. This helped them feel strong and tell their own stories. They explored who they are, what home means, their memories, and how they fit into a new place. This was done using a method called Experience Based Co-Design (EBCD). This method helps improve health services by using stories from patients.

The project had a slow, careful, and repeating process. For nine months, people explored ideas about themselves, home, who they are, memories, being displaced, and fitting in. This was done through talks at the beginning and end, and workshops every two weeks where they made maps. They also showed their work in an art show where others could join in. The project focused on letting people tell their own stories through art. They talked about important feelings, like happy or sad moments, that came up when talking about "home."

These important feelings were about what each person cared about most. They made people happy or sad, and they also affected others who listened. Most importantly, these talks helped people feel heard and valued. Often, people are not listened to or believed, especially when talking to those with more power.

The project used different ways to tell stories, like speaking and making art, to help people feel heard. Feeling heard means feeling like you matter. In the workshops, these talks became the base for discussions. They created shared experiences and helped the group feel closer and understand each other better. People said this was very helpful and made them feel good. These talks were also key in shaping the maps, with people helping to design and make things that showed their experiences and what home meant to them. This way of mapping goes beyond just showing hurt from bad events. It uses how people think about home to show the complex experiences of people seeking safety in a new place.

People took the lead in creating memories of their homes using maps, drawings, and their own photos. This happened in workshops that used many different skills. During nine workshops, people from ten different countries who spoke six languages learned about special deep-mapping methods. These methods used geography, memories, stories, objects, and photos to capture everyday trips they made in their old homes. This way of working helped bring out old and important memories of home and what those memories meant. Some of these meanings were clear, while others needed to be thought about more. Then, they talked about how these memories could become new experiences in the UK. This was different from just asking how people felt about leaving home, or what they left behind. So, the talks and activities helped people tell their own stories about what was important to them. In these stories, losing things was just one part of their experience, not the only thing that defined them.

The project used mapping as a way to let imagination flow. It combined stories about meaningful objects and photos with slow drawing and tracing of daily trips people took in their old neighborhoods. They tracked where some photos were taken and shared other memories of making a home. These "mind maps" are ways to show the feelings of not being sure about things. They are drawn in the mind through the places people traveled while fleeing home. Often, these maps go against the rules and controls set by the government. Mapping gave them the right tools to imagine, remember, create, and change their idea of home. Using ideas from Michel de Certeau, the maps traced and reshaped the stories of people's memories of home. This showed that making a home is an important part of everyday life and a powerful way to create a sense of place in the world.

So, maps are seen as changing, connected, and not lasting forever. They are made while people deal with and redefine space and time. This idea fits with James Corner's description of mapping as a way to create new things. He says mapping helps uncover things that were not seen or imagined before, even in places that seem well-known.

The project saw this "uncovering realities" happen with some people, especially toward the end. They found that the slow, patient work of finding and remaking themselves, connected to their idea of home, became a place where they felt strong, confident, and worthy.

Besides maps, the project used other visuals like photos, films, and storytelling. These helped bring out real and imagined stories, showing the complex meanings of home for each person. The project knew that using images in social research can be tricky. It can lead to problems with how images are seen and how people understand them. But the project focused on the "meaning" that was discussed and built together by the researchers, the audience, and the visual things created. This put together the hurt, memory, and meanings of home into the space of a map.

Trauma, Memory, and Home

People who are forced to leave their country have often been through many terrible things before they leave, while they are traveling, and when they arrive in the country where they are seeking safety. It is not easy to understand and help people with these experiences. This is because people show their hurt in different ways, and common terms like PTSD might not fully capture their feelings. It is important to look at how different cultures show feelings and act.

The part of the brain called the hippocampus is sensitive to stress. But it can also change and grow new connections. This means that people can start to heal themselves through fun, creative activities that combine memory work with good social interactions. It is important to see memory as complex, not just a simple process of putting things into the brain, storing them, and bringing them back. Memory can happen in different ways, with or without thinking about it, for a long or short time, and through our senses. The article says that memory also involves imagination and creativity, shown through how we act in places over time. Memory is a key way we live in the present. This changing nature of memory is linked to how easily it can be lost, especially for people who are struggling and often left out of society. This idea of memory fits well with the idea of home, especially for people who have been displaced and whose homes are wrapped in painful memories.

The project worked with 12 people from four continents and ten countries who spoke six languages. They all shared the common experience of war, conflict, being displaced, crossing borders, being held in centers, being moved around, and trying to fit in. They also shared feelings of loss and missing home. To be careful, the project did not talk about loss for a long time. Instead, it focused on helping people deal with loss by remembering good things about home and their homeland. First, the project wanted to create a shared meaning of home. Through memories, people talked about what home meant to them in interviews and workshops.

Memories of Home

Mohammed, a Palestinian from Gaza, recently finished his degree. For him, home means many things. It is about who he is as a person and as part of a group, feeling like he belongs, and being part of his nation. He brought photos from his childhood to the workshops to show what home meant to him. He also brought his traditional scarf, the keffiyeh. This scarf shows his Palestinian background. The design on the keffiyeh has a deep meaning. The black dots show how closely Palestinian people are connected, but the border pattern also shows how Gaza is cut off from the rest of the world. This pattern has a special meaning for him because he can understand it based on his own life experiences.

Mohammed's keffiyeh is like a map that connects him as a person to his country. It quickly became the main focus for his memory map. His personal experiences shaped this map, and it also became a "counter-map." This means it showed Gaza in a different way than what is usually shown by those in power. It challenged the idea that only certain people can decide how to show a place.

Deborah, a single mother from Lagos, Nigeria, connects home with her community. She sees it through money, her faith, and her strength. She talked about the differences between rich, poor, and tough parts of the city. The churches and religious places acted like a spiritual glue for everyone. In Nigeria, it's hard to own land and a home. So, many people live in shared buildings where they rent rooms for a lot of money. Even though 15 to 40 people from different groups might share a building and spend time together, Deborah said she always had to be careful. There were fights, violence against children, and accidents. She said, "If everyone could build, nobody would live in shared houses." Deborah's best memories of home are about going to her local church and sharing her faith with others. Even though she didn't say it, maybe the feeling of equality she felt there made her memories of those times even better.

Waleed is a human rights activist from Khartoum, Sudan. He has been away from his home country for 20 years, but he still does not feel at home in his new country. He says his idea of home is still tied to his childhood and where his family still lives. Waleed talks about his strong connection to the Nile River. He remembers swimming across it to reach fruit farms on the other side. For Waleed, his memory of home is about breaking rules and doing things, showing how memory and places are connected. Waleed found freedom by crossing the borders between the place he grew up and the imaginary life he built through books, novels, and poems.

Waleed explained that he can't settle down. He refuses to put framed pictures of his family on the walls in any place that doesn't feel like home, even his current apartment. He uses photos he keeps online of his home and all the places he has visited. These photos are like memory maps that show who he is, beyond where he lives now, or where he lived in the past or will live in the future.

Figure 1 shows two maps: a. Deborah's map shows her daily trip in Lagos between her house, her best friend's house, and the church. b. Waleed's map of memory and home layers photos from his childhood onto daily trips he took across the Nile River, which he continued to do throughout his adult life in Sudan.

Mahmoud, a doctor-in-training from Kobanî, Syria, now works as a delivery driver in the UK. For him, home is the smell of his mother's fresh flatbread from a clay oven. It's the mountains and free-roaming animals. It's evening gatherings with friends, drinking tea in winter and cold yogurt drink (Ayran) in summer, smoking shisha, playing cards, and sleeping outside in the garden, counting stars at night. He said that when he first visited Dartmoor, it felt the most like his home in Syria. Mahmoud shared that these feelings about home are common among everyone in his village, who are mostly farmers. By seeing home as more than just the physical house (or stone house in his village's case), almost everyone in his village was able to go back and rebuild their homes in the exact same spot after they were completely destroyed by bombings between 2011 and 2016. He remembers, "We had the mental ability to make them even bigger and better than before." The villagers' connection to home was about the place, the community, and the experiences, but not just the building itself.

Basma, a single mother from Baghdad, Iraq, has a degree in Fine Arts. She finds home in her connections with her family and the people around them. She mostly talked about how this network of people grew and shrunk based on important life events. In her last few years in Iraq, after her divorce, she lived in an apartment building near her parents' house and her daughter's school. She remembered being able to see and hear children playing in the schoolyard during breaks. But she also felt watched by distant neighbors from other balconies. This suggests that in a traditional society (which became stricter after years of war and fighting), a single mother in an apartment is both judged for her past and protected by her neighbors. This mix of protection and being watched, along with freedom and control for women in general, is common in such societies.

Figure 2 shows two more maps: a. Mahmoud's map included the village boundaries and main roads to Aleppo (the closest city). It also showed a photo of his wedding, highlighting how important that event was in his village. b. Basma's map showed the mix of freedom and control for women. She chose photos of herself as a modern Iraqi, while also showing the close-knit feeling of her busy city neighborhood.

These different ideas and mixed meanings of home, shown through memories, prove that home is something everyone needs. It is important for well-being and who a person is. It can be about having a home, knowing where you belong, longing for one, or not wanting to be tied to one. But home is also an idea that changes. It is rooted in experience, not just a place. It becomes about time and space, or just about feelings and connections. Home can be found, built, lived in, or longed for in the mind and imagination. It is about having a place, knowing your place, and questioning your place in society. This changing meaning of home is shown through real and imagined experiences. Experts say that this changing nature of home is linked to everyday ways of making a home, which they call imagined spaces.

When we look back at home through memories, it is both less and more than it was. Less, because strict rules of society fade away. More, because the endless possibilities of a calm, hopeful childhood become clear. One expert, Catherine Loveday, says that every time we remember something from our life, we build it again. We use bits of memory from past feelings and facts about our world and our own life story. Memories are almost never completely accurate, and they can always change.

Paula Reavey explains that memories are made up of many past stories and objects that exist in time. These are also called "memoryscapes" or "geographies of memories." Like Butler's ideas of memory and missing the past, the stories from the project showed all these complex memoryscapes through time and space. People often described home through the things they did there, the people who shared its joys and sorrows, and the journeys where it was a start, middle, and end point. The objects they brought to help remember these colorful ideas of home were also complex. A traditional wedding dress is not just about a big moment in a woman's life, starting from home, but also about her place in society and how she is treated. Like home, including objects from her culture is very important for building and confirming who she is. One expert says that not only homes, clothes, and belongings can stop or help someone feel strong and know who they are.

These understandings and maps of home show many different sizes at once – from very personal to city-wide and national. With each retelling and remembering, the meaning shifts to allow new connections – past, present, and future. These sizes are affected by how much "rupture," or breaks, there are in people's daily lives and how much space they need to heal. Experts talk about how these breaks are like changes in the journey of people from Sri Lanka trying to settle in Australia. They say that in this new way of thinking about movement, places are like a mix of processes, experiences, and connections built over a lifetime. These are carried to new homes and places. Different memories, experiences, and identities gather and are carried too. Breaks become parts of a person's life.

The Creative Recovery project looked at this mix of how home changes and how memory can be shaped, through making maps. The maps became places to heal from hurt, as explored in the next part.

Spatial Recovery: Impact of Common Threads in a Larger Tapestry

The act of deep mapping helped create new places for imagination. It showed the breaks in people's journeys and gave them a valuable sense of healing and taking back their ability to make a home in a new place. The idea of "rupture" means both being forced to move and having stops or blocked paths in people's journeys to safety. Seeing these "ruptures" highlights the many stopping points and homes in a person's journey. It moves beyond a single story of what settling down and making a home in a new place means. Through the work of one person in the project, the article shows what "rupture" means in the complex and delicate process of mapping a place of healing while remembering home.

Mohammed's view of home was about building and growing relationships in the community. His experiences volunteering and organizing events at university had shaped how he thought about home, giving him the power to help others. A favorite place by the sea was a changing area for shared dreams and community projects, planned while walking with friends. This flexible idea of space, where people could act together to help their city and themselves, was also shown in Mohammed's art collage of home. It was built around his traditional Palestinian scarf.

The geometric pattern of the scarf holds many meanings on different levels – from his own room to the entire Gaza Strip, and from very personal to political. As he mapped, he found that three free online maps of Gaza did not match when he put them together. More importantly, they did not match his clear memories of the streets of Gaza (from as recently as 2017). More research showed that for political and safety reasons, no two maps of Gaza are exactly alike. This made Mohammed want to map Gaza the way he remembered it in his mind. This directly helped him grow through the project. It made him even more passionate about speaking up, especially about how Gaza and people seeking safety are often shown in wrong and bad ways in the UK. Soon after the project ended, Mohammed was given refugee status. He moved to Scotland to study International Relations and Politics at the University of Edinburgh and quickly got a job at the Scottish Refugee Council.

Figure 3 shows two more images: a. Mohammed putting together the detailed parts of his memory map. This map shows his childhood and the streets of Gaza, from the mountains to the sea. b. Mohammed's final map. At its center is a photo of his childhood, placed between the mountains and the sea, and surrounded by his Gazan keffiyeh.

This special and informal way of slow, careful, and mental deep mapping, which included "rupture," clearly helped all the people in the project. Their words show this. The open-ended, co-created maps of different memoryscapes of journeys taken at home (and in their homelands) not only helped people feel more like themselves and their culture again, but also helped them adapt and find new roots in a new place. People said:

"It just made me understand more about myself, my journey, my childhood, and all these memories. Being part of the project, listening to my friends, what they were saying, I started to realize there were so many things I didn't know meant anything to me until the project. It's really good, like, even emotionally and mentally, it definitely helped me a lot." (Tarig from Sudan, from an interview at the exhibition opening, June 2019).

"In the past, we've talked many times about our memories, but this time it's different, it's something special, we show our memories by mapping. Part of us feels nostalgic for the past, and the faces, and the paths we used to take back home, but another part of us is proud of what we've achieved. I have three homes actually, one of them is Palestine, Gaza with my family and friends, and one is here with my new friends, and one is the world itself. I map, therefore, I am." (Mohammed from Gaza, from an interview with BBC Spotlight Southwest, June 2029).

Besides feeling better about loss and the hurt of being displaced, as reported by people in interviews, three other things were found when their answers were looked at closely. First, people felt hopeful about the future and saw themselves as creative. The memory map of home, once built again, became a flexible mental space for letting out strong feelings. Beyond just healing, it became a source of mental strength, helping people to do well. Second, thinking about and actually making the maps helped people "make real what was in our head" (as one person said in a workshop). It helped them say and show their feelings, meanings, and ideas of home. This helped them think critically and stand up for themselves as they tried to make a home in a new place. Third, people became more aware of social, cultural, and political issues affecting their home countries, the UK, and Europe. This grew into a strong interest in helping others fit into society, and in community work focused on building good relationships between different cultures.

These findings could also help local and national governments make rules about housing, education, and jobs. The first step of this wider effect has already been tested through an exhibition. It showed the creative maps and personal stories of the people involved. It also gave the audience a chance to think about the common ways, joys, and challenges of making a home in a time when moving between countries is becoming more normal. Below are the common ideas that came from studying the impact of the Mapping Creative Recovery exhibition.

1. Home Negotiated

The idea of home as a changing, borderless place that mixes imagination, daily actions, and a network of social connections is the main idea that came from the exhibition survey answers. The exact mix of things we can touch and things we cannot touch that make up home changes a lot. But all share many ways of showing who they are, which are always being discussed and changed. This changing comes from how home is imagined, lived, and experienced in connection to moving, things from our culture, time, and the uncertainty of making a home while moving. It also allows for different levels of discussion at a personal level. This is built by making a home in a new place, and by the cultures and ways of life that this creates outside of the person. All of this is wrapped up in the idea of constant "rupture" to daily life.

2. Home Transformed from Space to Imagination: The Self as a Nexus for Home

Most visitors to the exhibition, when asked "What does home mean to you?", strongly said that home is memory. This open-ended answer was chosen more than three multiple-choice options. This shows how important memory is for defining who you are. Visitors' answers touched on some common ideas (safety and belonging, love and acceptance, calm and happiness, the comfort of everyday life). But they also showed that home is a changing place for growing, becoming, and imagining. It is not a fixed thing, but something always being reworked through daily life.

Another important point about how the project affected the public was the personal stories of self-representation created together by the project's participants. Combining storytelling and shared memories, photos that showed the true nature of each person beyond just being a refugee, and maps that showed their imaginative journeys of healing, supported the idea of using art to create a safe space. This safe space is often missing in talks about "cities of sanctuary" in the UK. In those discussions, ideas about land and rules often hide the importance of building relationships and places. The shared human experience, no matter a person's background, and the basic need to be seen and heard over the fading noise of not knowing and wrong information, also came through in the exhibition's open comments.

3. Home: A Key to Collective Agency and Integration

Home belongs to a group of people who share values, even if those values can be discussed and changed. This group has the power to create positive social change beyond its immediate area. In an open discussion for new research ideas that would build on the current project, exhibition visitors said it was important to keep reaching out to communities and involve them. This would help people fit into society strongly, which is not the same as just blending in and losing your own culture. The people in the project suggested that this could happen by changing what the public thinks through teaching programs, especially in local schools. The bigger goal would be to help shape social rules. Also, people said that it is very important for people who have been displaced to be creatively involved in development projects. This includes housing, but more generally, it also means thinking about home in terms of money, spirit, and beauty. This is key to helping people fit in.

Conclusion: Future Imaginings

The project took the people involved on a journey of healing through maps. It used a bigger idea of memory in space and time, where memory and home came together to create "memoryscapes" of healing while being displaced. But these journeys did not stop at making maps. Some people from the project have since been given refugee status. They continue to deal with new life challenges and systems of control and help for people who move, like social services. This shows that making a home is a process of changing and adjusting, not a fixed end goal.

Through the project's approach to mapping memories of making a home, it showed that people involved had a great understanding of global connections. They also had skills in social media and a complex understanding of what it would take to truly feel at home again, even with constant disruptions. The deep mapping process was made richer by many different stories, which challenged the simple labels put on displaced people. It did this by showing the many different journeys they took through painful memories, which were then put onto the maps.

Some experts talk about the risks of art projects with people who have been displaced. Even when trying to tell different stories that go against harmful ones, these projects can accidentally make stereotypes stronger. This can happen if the artist doesn't have personal experience or think deeply about their own role, or if they assume there's no way to misrepresent things when working together. This can keep people from having a voice, making them feel like "the other," and taking away their power. The project was careful about these problems. It focused on the process of mapping and what it meant for people's memories of home and how they imagined its future. The project agreed that it is important to find ways to use these tools and methods outside of the project itself. This helps people to keep using their power and ability to act in other situations.

By focusing on the many meanings of home, the project helped the co-researchers work on different levels, from very personal to city-wide and national. They actively looked for ways, like deep-mapping, to explore the difficult but helpful connections between these levels. The shift in how maps are understood, seeing them as changing and unfolding, recognizes the strong link between the map and the real world. This link is both about ideas and practical use. This shift has opened up mapping to different ways of knowing and acting in space that were previously pushed aside by traditional (colonial) map-making. It now highlights many ways of mapping by Indigenous people, Black communities, and now, people seeking safety. The people in the project creatively looked at, challenged, and improved digital maps of their homes. They did this through the hands-on process of making, creating a social space for meaningful meetings and rethinking who they are and their social connections, both in talks and actions.

The article shows that memory work is at the heart of making a home. It connects memory and home at different levels of change and disruption, through acting and imagining. This wider idea of "memoryscape" gave people a sense of who they are, how effective they can be, and a safe place to share feelings about home and themselves. The link between home and self is very important for building new social ways of dealing with differences and similarities, which are affected by things like race, gender, and background. These imagined and healed ways of dealing with things spread into the act of making, rooted in important city and home spaces.

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Murrani, S., Lloyd, H., & Popovici, I.-C. (2023). Mapping home, memory and spatial recovery in forced displacement. Social & Cultural Geography, 24(8), 1305–1323. https://doi.org/10.1080/14649365.2022.2055777

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