1 Introduction

This chapter focuses on conditions for co-creative research with regard to experiences and diverse forms of knowledge that are silenced by stigmatizing, negative labelling and (subtle) kinds of exclusion that must be countered. We reflect on three core conditions that emerged in LIMBO: a creative research collaboration between queer refugeeFootnote 1 community organizers and artists, the Amsterdam art institute Framer Framed and the Refugee Academy (expertise lab based at the Institute for Societal Resilience at VU Amsterdam). LIMBO is part of the Engaged Scholarship and Narratives of Change project, which investigates specific forms of transdisciplinary cooperation between academic institutions and society, which we refer to here as transformative engaged scholarship.

Transformative engaged scholarship refers to critical forms of academic work with the aim of enabling more inclusive practices both in society and in academic institutions. It is grounded in the belief that academia has an important role to play in expanding the collective imagination and facilitating the inclusion of marginalized groups. Other than understandings of engaged scholarship that hinge on researchers’ advisory and consulting roles in existing policy or professional frames, which are familiar in Science and Technology Studies (Zuiderent-Jerak, 2015), this form of engaged scholarship involves critical reflection on power dynamics in knowledge production and creating spaces for mutual learning with different social actors, particularly those from marginalized communities (Meekosha et al., 2013). Transdisciplinary work from this perspective involves investing in challenging normalized structures of exclusion by incorporating diverse forms of knowledge, making power structures more visible and promoting shared responsibility for change (Medina, 2013), through processes of knowledge co-creation.

In the Dutch welfare context, one instance of a normalized form of exclusion is the image of refugees as deviating from the norm. These images are informed by hegemonic discourses based on gendered, racialized and cultural hierarchies of difference that reproduce structures of inequality in everyday practices (Young, 2007). In these normalized structures, members of non-privileged groups—such as refugees—are depicted as both completely different and ‘lacking’ and also, increasingly, as dangerous and unwanted (Ghorashi, 2020). Transformative engaged scholarship, seen as transdisciplinary work, addresses this normalized form of power and recognizes the agency and voices of marginalized individuals and communities, but also goes beyond merely documenting such issues. In our view, enabling change starts with scholars acknowledging power relationships (including their own position) and making efforts to establish sustainable conditions for both epistemic and social justice, recognizing and valuing experiential and community knowledge as meaningful ways of existing and understanding in the world. This chapter describes such conditions that are relevant to co-creative research in the context of LIMBO, a collaboratively designed community to enable non-academic participants to co-own the process of knowledge production.

1.1 LIMBO: Co-creative Engagement in the Margins

LIMBO is an alternative space for knowledge creation outside dominant structures for people who experience the intersection of queerness and refugeeness. It facilitates twice-monthly creative workshops by and for those identifying as queer refugees, and who face intersecting dimensions of (blatant and/or subtle) exclusion in the Dutch context. LIMBO has aimed to create space for sharing stories and content through art, such as poetry, drawing, creative writing, collage and photography. Reflecting on this project, which was initiated and co-facilitated by the first author (hereafter FH), enables us to highlight the transformative potential of co-creative spaces and to investigate the premises and conditions that can lead to creating these. We have reconstructed the methodological opportunities and challenges through reflective dialogues among ourselves, thinking through the skills, aptitudes, choices, processes and relations that led the organizers of LIMBO to navigate the complexity of this creative and collaborative journey. In addition to seeing the transformative value of engaged scholarship, the experience of LIMBO made us more aware of academics’ vulnerability when engaging with communities. Hence, our chapter is guided by the following questions: What is the role of academia when community-engaged research decentres the hierarchical position of academic knowledge to enable epistemic justice and multiplicity? What are the challenges and opportunities?

Decentring involves researchers stepping back from their (personal, academic) perspectives in their leadership and researcher roles to allow the group’s desires, needs, stories and practices to remain central, in order to become part of the group and let others take the lead (Braidotti, 2018). This means that, like most participatory research, the researcher shares power over the research process with the group (Caretta & Riaño, 2016). For instance, the researcher does not depart from a fixed research frame when approaching the research participants but approaches the group with a flexible framework with the aim of adjusting it throughout the process of co-creation. It thus involves researchers being open to different perspectives and values within the group and being willing to set aside their own preconceived notions and opinions, allowing for epistemic justice through a multiplicity of knowledges (Caretta & Riaño, 2016). Recentring is stepping in when needed, moving towards a productive direction by including academic insights. De/recentring can be seen as acts of situational humility (Edmondson, 2018), which are at the core of our approach.

In an earlier co-creation project led by FH (see Fig. 11.1), it became evident that decentring presents specific challenges and opportunities. We learned that it is important to find a balance between decentring and recentring. In Trans-Clash, the group of participantsFootnote 2 was in control of designing the project and the researcher was almost entirely decentred. However, this process led to a somewhat limited outcome in FH’s perception. The relatively small group of six members wanted to create a performance event and co-author an application to fund a small tour. FH took the lead in co-writing this funding application, which served as an opportunity to learn what was important to this group and why. However, FH aimed to reach and include the larger queer refugee community as part of their PhD research. TheyFootnote 3 wanted to create a project that was meaningful to many/most queer refugees in the hope of attracting more (diverse) queer refugees by using the snowball technique (Tracy, 2013). FH also deemed specific elements based on theory and experience to be important, such as holding space and abstaining from pressure to work towards creative results. Because most members of the Trans-Clash group did not give priority to these values and since FH had almost completely decentred themselves, they could only follow the direction of the group. After one co-organized performance event that was warmly received by the audience, the funding body rejected the application. LIMBO was then co-created in order to navigate democratic decision-making while at the same time including insights and knowledge based on theory and the researcher’s experience.

Fig. 11.1
A timeline of the co-creation process. January to July 2020, art for change. February to August 2021, trans-clash. January to March 2022, Limbo part 1. March 2022 to March 2023, Limbo part 2, and September 2023 to May 2024, Limbo part 3. Whether they are researcher-organized or community-organized is mentioned below.

FH’s co-creation timeline about decentring-recentring in the project’s design

The dynamic interplay of decentring and recentring is relevant not just in the project’s design but throughout the entire process. The following sections critically unpack this as one of three conditions that appeared in LIMBO as crucial avenues in working towards transformative impact. The first condition concerns the use of creativity, more specifically using art practices as a research method. The second condition concerns the notion of ‘holding space’ for all kinds of intimate and often uncomfortable feelings and conversations. The third is the ability of decision-makers to decentre and recentre.

2 Creativity

During the first co-creation project Art for Change (Fig. 11.1), the potential of creativity to cross language barriers became evident. FH was researching the role of art in the lives of queer refugees in the context of the social distancing and lockdowns during the COVID-19 pandemic. The entire research team was suddenly forced to reflect on what community engagement means in times of social isolation. What role can academics play? An online platform was created with the intention of continuing meaningful and mutually beneficial academic community engagement with queer refugee artists (Holle et al., 2021). There, we found that art practices are experienced as liberating because they are not restricted to verbal language (Karimi, 2020; O’Neill et al., 2002). For people with a refugee experience, for whom Dutch or English is often a third or fourth language, art offers a ‘means of imagining beyond the limits of language (or playing creatively with language) via more sensorial, visual or emotional levels’ (O’Neill et al., 2002 in Holle et al., 2021).

I think poetry, it surpasses just words, I think they're more like illustrations and they’re like colours. They are stories. I was quite impressed with what a lot of people came with. […] It was very mind opening to me to learn about new cultures, new people, their ways of life, how they got to the Netherlands. (Musa)Footnote 4

Art practices are playful, more embodied, forms of sharing and expression and for that reason might be easier to understand, feel or relate to, than (academic) texts (Dewhurst, 2010; Oliveira, 2019). For this reason, creative expression can be an important way to increase epistemic multiplicity, which means recognizing and valuing the simultaneous presence of different forms and sources of knowledge. This project significantly deepened our understanding of creativity (a broader frame for art practices) as a valuable methodological approach. Despite this importance, creativity in the neoliberal context is commonly defined interchangeably with innovation—referring mainly to bigger, better, higher, faster or more (Jeanes, 2006). This is a rather hierarchical perception as it focuses on linear growth. As an alternative to this understanding, we embrace the horizontal value of liminality inherent to creativity and creative practices (Turner, 1979). When the focus is on the process and not on the final results, it removes the pressure to perform, making the experience more liberating. Creativity through the lens of liminality enables tuning into oneself in playful ways and encourages (self-)discovery and (self-)expression.

A focus on liminality is relevant because (queer) refugees often find themselves in a liminal state arising from displacement and exclusion (Manjikian, 2014). In the context of (forced) migration, liminality refers to the state of transition, which can be experienced as temporary or permanent, depending on both individual and social perceptions: when does a person ‘belong’ in their new society? Being in a liminal state can be challenging for refugees, as it can involve a loss of identity, culture and community (Turner, 1969, 1979). In many cases, refugees cannot return to their own country and must navigate the challenges of building a new life in a foreign land. This liminal state can also have an impact on mental health and well-being, as refugees may experience feelings of isolation, marginalization, loss, uncertainty and feeling cut off from social structures (Elferink & Emmen, 2017).

Despite its difficulties, liminality also involves specific sources of situated knowledge. Edward Said (1994) argued that those living in exile occupy a position of in-betweenness, which makes it impossible to fully assimilate into specific social structures. It involves both a sense of permanent non-belonging and having the potential for creativity and originality. Said uses the metaphor of exile (or, in contemporary terms, refugees), to show that juxtaposing the old and new cultural and structural contexts enables reflexivity. This ‘forced reflexivity’ allows exiles to hold an insider–outsider position that challenges assumed positions in either context (Ghorashi, 2018). In a similar way, queerness can also be seen as a liminal condition that fosters reflexivity, particularly when ‘queer’ refers to activism on challenging dominant binary social norms (Jagose, 1996). Hence, both queerness and refugeeness involve a potential for the critical thinking necessary to stretch the boundaries of what is considered the norm. The question is how engaged scholars can highlight this other side of liminality, which is in contrast to dominant perceptions of those in liminal positions as ‘lacking’ (Ghorashi, 2020). To broaden this singular perspective of lack, the name LIMBO—referring to liminality—aims to boost this positive source of creativity and originality.

Liminality has been described as having transformative potential at the individual, group and public levels (Turner, 1979). At an individual level, liminality is described as ‘a rite of passage’, which refers to a state or a journey in which one lets go (or is forced to let go) of one identity while transitioning to another (Turner, 1979; Van Gennep [1909] 2019). Examples are adolescence, when one is no longer a child but not yet fully adult; migration, where one is no longer part of the former society, but not yet fully settled in the new one; or being in the process of losing a loved one, where one is transitioning to an identity without that other person. These are all forms of identity (re/de)construction (Beech, 2011). Creativity in the form of art practices can enable such identity (re/de)construction (Holle et al., 2021).

At a group level, liminality in creativity triggers ‘plural reflexivity’ (Turner, 1979, p. 465). In contrast to making art in solitude, plural reflexivity is a form of sharing reflections and art in a group—strengthening not only one’s own but also the group’s identity. It can enable a sense of belonging because plural reflexivity refers to ‘ways in which communities think about, see and present themselves through signs, symbols, music, dance and visual arts, thereby strengthening a sense of community’ (Holle et al., 2021, p. 4).

At a public level, artists and activists use creativity and reflexivity to enable social change. This is what Turner refers to as ‘public liminality’ or ‘public reflexivity’ (Turner, 1979). Activists use art or creative expression to ‘make us wonder about what we are doing, to rupture a stream of thought’ by using ‘non-discursive means’ such as ‘pictures, song, poetic imagery, and expressions of mockery and longing performed in rowdy and even playful ways aimed not at commanding assent but disturbing complacency’ (Young, 2001, p. 687). This is in line with what Toni Cade Bambara says: ‘The role of the artist is to make the revolution irresistible’ (cited in Brown, 2019).

2.1 Playfully Unsettling Normalized Positioning

Essentially, creativity in LIMBO concerns the possibility of unsettling and liberating oneself from normalized or conditioned positioning. With this in mind, we realized the importance of icebreakers, games and/or movement when Kenza Badi gave a workshop about clowning. Clowning is another way of playfully questioning and resisting normalized positioning. Badi’s workshop was mentioned by several members as one of the highlights:

It was very funny to me, because for you to be able to do this kind of weird things, it really, really, really, really relieved a lot of stress for me. Because sometimes you don't need to feel that I’m too big to do this, this is for small kids, but when you try to be weird like a baby or all those things you see that stress is still relieved. (Faadin)

Badi’s workshop idea relates to Adrienne Maree Brown’s understanding of pleasure activism, which she defines as ‘the work we do to reclaim our whole, happy, and satisfiable selves from the impacts, delusions, and limitations of oppression and/or supremacy’ (Brown, 2019, p. 13).

In LIMBO, there was only one clowning workshop, but elements of playfully unsettling remained. Over time it became evident that moving, dancing and playing games should become part of the LIMBO routine. We borrowed several games from other contexts and developed some that focus on collectivity. Such games have the potential of learning to leave one’s comfort zone in a relatively safe setting. By constantly switching games, creative practices, workshop facilitators and the changing environment of the LIMBO homebase, participants essentially practise being comfortable with change. The group is continuously invited to practise something unknown, and in effect, never have the opportunity to rely on stability or reproduction of any kind. The only constant is the practice of sharing reflections. One thing that we learned in LIMBO is to avoid typical introduction rounds: ‘My name is …, I was born in …, I studied …, I am working as, etcetera’. Such routines can produce a pressure to ‘properly’ introduce oneself. Instead, in LIMBO the members get to know each other through (name) games and (reflections on) creative practices.

2.2 Liminal Space

In addition, liminality is also described in the literature in terms of space, which refers to ‘transitory in-between spaces’ through which people pass, such as hallways, airports or streets (Shortt, 2015). They are situated between ‘dominant’ spaces that have clearer social codes on how to behave, even though those codes are often internalized and taken for granted. Think, for example, of classrooms, dining rooms or conference halls. Ways to behave in spaces with such clear purposes are culturally shaped and conditioned, because ‘the practices within them are interwoven with social expectation, routines and norms’ (Shortt, 2015, p. 634). Whereas dwelling in liminal spaces, as opposed to passing through them, may allow for new possibilities and a sense of freedom on how to behave. We might think of dwelling with colleagues around office areas that are not designed for hanging out. For instance, running into somebody in a hallway and spontaneously staying there, or smokers gathering around an exit. These experiences may open up different types of conversations and allow a freedom to act outside one’s conditioned behaviour according to social codes (Shortt, 2015).

LIMBO is situated in a creative surrounding that can be seen as a liminal space (Shortt, 2015). Its homebase is an art institution that holds changing exhibitions and periods of in-betweenness when new exhibitions are constructed. The experience of some members in LIMBO is one of being temporarily outside their routine of going to spaces that are goal-oriented and filled with expectations, such as taking Dutch classes or meetings with case managers. Meetings with case managers, lawyers or the IND (Dutch Immigration and Naturalization Service) are examples of obligations that are paired with social codes that are culturally conditioned.

Many queer refugees in LIMBO were conditioned to behave ‘properly’ in their former contexts because of the risk of violence or prosecution. In their new context, when undergoing the asylum process, some are at risk of the IND not believing their claim for asylum based on gender or sexuality (Renkens, 2018; Spijkerboer, 2013). Many LIMBO members were denied their asylum claim because the IND did not believe them. In most cases, this was due to not giving enough detail. While in their former life they were forced to hide or suppress their sexuality, they now have to be open and somehow prove they are queer. FH heard many life story details in private conversations, which are often extremely violent and traumatic, full of examples of torture and other brutalities. These stories are difficult to share, particularly with institutions that approach them with scepticism. In LIMBO almost all participants mentioned feeling relief during the workshops.

I was feeling relieved and started opening up freely, because LIMBO is a safe place and family that makes me feel myself. (Elea)

Before it was so difficult to say I’m gay, but now I feel confident to share I’m gay. I’m feeling relief through these kinds of workshops. (Dex)

Participants mention this feeling of relief in connection to feeling safe with people who have similar experiences as well as the playful and fun character of the workshops, whose main goal is to hold space for whatever they want to share. However, participants also mentioned that if LIMBO had been situated in a more institutional setting, like a classroom, it could have been more anxiety-inducing because they would have felt more out of place. Hence, in line with Shortt (2015), we argue that dwelling in a creative liminal space makes it easier to shake off internalized expectations of how to behave, which adds to momentarily feeling liberated from such dominant norms and expectations. This relief then creates space to tune into oneself, which is a form of (re/de)conditioning when practised and repeated over the longer term.

2.3 Transformative Potential of Creativity

The focus on epistemic multiplicity and justice brought us to strive for three levels of transformation: individual, group and public, as described by Turner (1979). At the individual level, the aim is to encourage tuning into oneself without feeling any pressure to arrive somewhere or produce something. Rather than trying to make something that others may or may not believe as true, categorize as good or bad, valid or invalid, our focus is on safely tuning into oneself, fostering reflexivity. Reflections by LIMBO members are often profound and reveal relationships with their own and other’s ideas, values, histories and dreams. Over time, in sharing and reflecting about their creative works, we have witnessed changes.

I get to learn every day. Every time I come, I learned something new. Yeah, the other time I learned how to write a poem. In the other day, maybe to train my mind […] I also wanted to say thank you for having us have this opportunity and make my handwriting, my painting on that wall. I left Uganda. And now to enjoy this whole experience, it helps me with my mind. I am struggling to put my mind to keep fighting. I don't know why I'm fighting but it has helped me to know more about myself. It's like I can talk, I can just use my mind and your paper, without even speaking what’s actually going through my mind. I'm actually a very quiet person, but it has helped me to open up. I actually love you guys. Yeah, it has been an amazing experience for me. (Jenny)

Jenny refers to constantly learning something different, apparently safely stepping outside her comfort zone. She mentions not knowing why she is fighting but learning more about herself in LIMBO. She appreciates ‘talking’ without speaking, referring to art being an intuitive and liberating language, because creative practices make it safer and easier to express and construct notions about oneself in relation to the other and to their experiences in the new society.

At a group level, the mutual learning experience is central to LIMBO. By sharing stories and art in a group setting, participants recognize the similarities and differences, which creates bonds. Everyone shares a refugee experience; some are currently going through the asylum procedure, while others did so up to eight years ago. With regard to queerness, experiences are often more implicitly shared and negotiated. For example, how a person does not adhere to gender norms in the way they dress. Although the workshop facilitators almost never explicitly work with themes of gender or sexuality, queerness is negotiated simply through sharing a space with various queer displaced bodies. It fuels feelings of kinship, which became evident in the fact that most participants refer to LIMBO as family.

LIMBO is a family, we all come together, there are no insecurities when I’m in LIMBO. I know that I'm surrounded by people who love me, who have the same sexuality with me. (Mira)

Over time, we observed members expressing themselves more comfortably and confidently, which is also recognized and acknowledged by others in the group and further encouraged, strengthening the sense of collectivity and kinship.

The transformative potential at the public level is enabled through LIMBOs public presentations, events, co-created booklets and articles. These outings all serve as a platform to share their stories and art and are forms of public reflexivity (Turner, 1979). Outside audiences are invited to engage and reflect on the creative output presented. Queerness plays a role because it is often seen by LIMBO members as being inherently activist in terms of breaking or blurring dominant social (gender, sexual, relationship) norms (Jagose, 1996).

I am a queer from Uganda and it’s my first time to open up for everyone [tearing up]. My first time and I’m very happy in LIMBO. LIMBO has helped me to get confidence, and it has helped me find a family which is the same as me. I’m happy, I’m very, very grateful for LIMBO. I will live with all of it in my life, thank you. (Elea)

Elea stated this at a public LIMBO event in which she found confidence to speak in front of more than 200 people. Public reflexivity took place because visitors referred to this moment as ‘powerful in its vulnerability’. Elea experienced that her voice matters for others and for herself. She also refers to ‘family which is the same as me’, referring to the developed kinship in LIMBO, feeling connected by recognizing similarities in difference.

3 Holding Space

Aminata Cairo (2021) argues that it is important to hold space for one’s full range of human emotion and experience, without immediately trying to (re)solve them. As discussed above, we argue that creative practices are a useful tool to hold space for the full spectrum of experiences without striving for, or arriving at, results. In the context of facilitating groups, Heather Plett defines holding space as ‘what we do when we walk alongside a person or group on a journey through liminal space. We do this without making them feel inadequate, without trying to fix them, and without trying to impact the outcome. We open our hearts, offer unconditional support, and let go of judgment and control’ (Plett, 2020, p. 18). For Plett (2020), holding space is about transformation to witness and guide from a place of humility, for which a safer environment needs to be created. One metaphor for a liminal journey is transforming from being a caterpillar into becoming a butterfly, letting go of one identity to become another (Plett, 2020). She goes on to say that the journey often feels like a labyrinth, ‘moving you close to the destination and then, with a simple turn, taking you far away from where you think you’re meant to be’ (Plett, 2020, p. 29). The journey is thus never linear but rather complex, messy, layered and challenging, including a full range of emotions from shock and grief to joy and relief.

In LIMBO, we hold space for queer refugee narratives through creative practices. Plett (2020) metaphorically describes those on a liminal journey as crystals with sharp edges. Because of the sharp edges and variety of shapes and sizes, she suggests the idea of a bowl or container with a soft protective inside layer, a safer space for exploration. There needs to be a sense of comfort and protection so that our sharp edges do not hurt ourselves or others along the way. In LIMBO, we co-create this safer space by constantly practising consent, and listing intentions for how we want to be together that specific day. The safer space is based on three principles: autonomy, safety to fail and simple instructions (Plett, 2020). Plett describes additional principles in depth, but in the context of co-creation with queer refugees, these three are the most relevant.

3.1 Autonomy

The first principle is autonomy, which is defined as ‘the quality or state of being self-governing; self-directing freedom and especially moral independence’ (Plett, 2020, p. 52). We encourage everyone to trust their own intuition and wisdom and do so by focusing on consent. In addition to an information and consent letter, we practise consent continuously. At the start of each workshop, we remind everyone to check in with themselves and others to feel whether it feels good to do something together or share one’s story. We encourage everyone to make their own decisions, whether to share a story, whether to keep it light and easy, heavy and deeply personal or anything in between. In this way we embrace diversity by making different decisions and sharing different experiences.

The first LIMBO workshop was about consent as an ongoing practice, checking in with oneself and the others, that everyone (enthusiastically) commits to whatever they are consenting to. We imagined that a consent workshop would contribute to feelings of safety and autonomy. However, there are university ethics and guidelines regarding consent forms that research participants are obligated to sign. Such forms usually include content, activities such as interviews, agreements on using pseudonyms, authorship and potential risks. Although this can have an important function in protecting participants’ rights, this way of obtaining consent is not always appropriate for all research contexts. In LIMBO, which is an ongoing journey where participants learn to hold space for each other as part of collective research, signing consent forms gradually seemed to be out of context. Often the issues cited in those documents are rather abstract, and people may change their mind when experiences become concrete. How can someone consent to something when they don’t yet know what they are consenting to? Moreover, we learned that signing formal documents triggered anxiety, memories of bad experiences and difficulty understanding Dutch bureaucracy. Signing documents can thus be scary or complicated for refugees, especially for undocumented migrants. We hoped that, through a playful workshop, we would make a conversation about consent more meaningful and fun.

Workshop facilitator Maha Youssef addressed issues of consent by practising with rope. One person would tie another person’s wrists or ankles so that they would physically and emotionally feel constraint. This constraint became a measuring tool for the person to check internally and read their levels of (dis)comfort. It was stressed that consent can be evoked for no apparent reason, or for reasons one is unwilling to share. In this way, the responsibility is shared for deciding whether something feels (mutually) good. Youssef borrowed rope play exercises from the Bondage, Discipline (or Domination), Sadism (or Submission), Masochism (BDSM) community, where there is extensive knowledge about consent in practice (see, for instance Bennett, 2018; Fanghanel, 2020).

While consent in LIMBO seldom concerns physical touch, it is mainly directed to decisions about sharing stories and creative works. These (art) narratives are shared inside the safer space among ourselves and sometimes in public events. For some, this step from private to public depends on the time and space whether they choose to share stories and different layers of meaning connected to the work. As part of how we approach consent as an ongoing practice, as opposed to completing a single consent form at the start, we continuously emphasize that everyone should share if, where, or when, they are ready. All choices are encouraged, although the authors believe there is power in sharing, because it may be inspiring, helpful or courageous. It might connect people, trigger reflection, introspection or bring clarity for the person and/or the receiver.

3.2 Safety to Fail

The second principle concerns a focus on learning and growing. In LIMBO this translates into a continuous effort to support everyone to feel safe enough to fail. We encourage taking risks and learn from ‘mistakes’ without fear, judgement or shame. In terms of art practices, the term ‘mistakes’ does not really apply. Any drawing or text can be silly or serious, technically ‘good’ or ‘bad’. One does not have to be good at art or sharing stories. It's about learning and discovering together and finding ways to tell our stories. In this sense, group members are all researchers because they engage in some form of internal, external or relational inquiry. This relates to what we discussed about creativity; through playfulness and dwelling in between, as opposed to striving for results, implies that making mistakes, failing, or stumbling is fine or even encouraged. Because LIMBO members’ daily challenges are often intense and overwhelming, we remind ourselves in the workshops to laugh, act in silly ways, dance and enjoy. In ‘The Queer Art of Failure’ (Halberstam, 2011), it is argued that living up to social norms is overrated and that failure should be celebrated because it points out taken-for-granted forms of exclusion. If the idea is to make the revolution irresistible, queer people, particularly those who are displaced and/or of colour, must (re)learn to joyously embrace failure of living up to social (gender, beauty, relationship, heterosexual, institutional) norms.

In practising being safe to fail, we work with the term ‘intentions’ for how we choose to be together in that moment. In contrast to terms as rules or guidelines, the term ‘intentions’ is more active as something for which to strive. Rules are more static because they can be broken or bent. Guidelines may limit one’s freedom to act because they suggest certain forms of behaviour. Using intentions is thus both more liberating and also makes it safer to fail. For example, one might unintentionally ‘break the rule’ of addressing someone with their proper pronouns. Rules that are established together, and unintentionally breaking them, may then trigger feelings of shame, or feelings of (sometimes constant) failure. In using intentions, ‘mistakes’ are less likely to be seen as problematic, and one can move on more quickly without feeling shame or failure. Moreover, queer activists are often actively breaking rules in terms of dominant norms or standards. Collectively creating intentions is thus a more liberating and inclusive practice because it does not suggest behaviour.

In LIMBO, intentions are co-created and constantly developed and revisited in every meeting. They are collectively listed on a large piece of paper and placed in a prominent spot. In every gathering the list is checked and revised in case anyone wants to add or change something. This is particularly salient when current affairs affect (individuals in) the group. For example, when something occurs in their country of origin—such as war, revolution, natural disaster—they might feel worried about friends and families, feel vulnerable, overwhelmed or easily triggered. The collective remembering, revisiting and listing of intentions becomes an appropriate moment to tune in with oneself and share specific desires or needs—for example, ‘don’t ask me anything today’, ‘I just want to sit in a corner’ or ‘hugs are welcome’.

3.3 Simple Instructions

The third principle does not require much clarification. It concerns keeping it simple in terms of tasks and information. A liminal journey can be overwhelming, given that norms, values and ways of being in the world no longer apply. In addition, most participants struggle with stress, depressive thoughts or other mental health issues. Therefore, we have experienced the importance of keeping information to a minimum to create space for a mutual learning experience and limit feelings of being overwhelmed. This is another reason why the focus is not on learning artistic techniques or skills, but rather on reflecting on one’s context through creativity.

3.4 Belonging

Holding space is important in the context of LIMBO because the aim is to provide a safer, supportive and non-judgemental environment for refugees, who are often approached as a weak group in need of help. This dominant image of refugees as lacking inhibits their chances of participating and belonging in society, despite various policies aimed at improving their integration (Ghorashi, 2020). According to Brené Brown (2017), belonging is the opposite of fitting in. Therefore, LIMBO offers an alternative approach, rather focusing on belonging in enabling refugees to express themselves freely.

And when I found you [FH] and found LIMBO, I start giving my heart, I start giving my energy, sharing myself, being vulnerable. I open myself in the exhibition to show them how SAFE I fucking feel. […] I found people who also I feel comfortable with to speak up and to be safe to express myself. Maybe my ideas about it [are] very big for some people, but I don't want you to understand. I want to be able to talk. I want to be able to express. I want to be! And if I cannot speak it, I can draw it, I can dance it, and create it for you. Just give me the space, give me the time [laughs]. (Neo)

Neo’s quote highlights the transformative impact of LIMBO in providing a space where they feel comfortable and safe to share their thoughts and ideas. In this space, they can be vulnerable and express themself without judgement or the need for others to fully understand them. LIMBO gives them the opportunity to be heard, whether through words, art or dance. This sense of freedom is crucial for Neo, as it allows them to break free from the limiting perspective of being seen as lacking and instead to embrace their own agency and creativity.

The significance of creating a safer space for queer refugees became more evident during a specific workshop focused on holding space in the context of clubbing. The workshop took place at the start of a semi-public clubbing LIMBO event that was organized by queer refugee artists for approximately 300 invited guests. To ensure the safety of all attendees, 25 volunteers, mostly LIMBO members, were asked to hold space in short shifts. This preparation included a workshop led by two experienced individuals in organizing queer safer clubbing events (for more context on these events, listen to an interview with one of the organizers here: Van Driel, 2020). The participants were asked to share memories of when they felt truly safe. It was remarkable that a majority of LIMBO members expressed only feeling safe within LIMBO, highlighting the importance of the space in providing a sense of belonging and safety for queer refugees.

3.5 Challenges of Holding Space

Holding space for guests at semi-public events is of different nature to doing so in the LIMBO workshops. This is because in public events it is not entirely possible to work ‘without trying to impact the outcome […], and let[ting] go of judgment and control’ (Plett, 2020, p. 18). The reason is that events are end results in which safety needs to be organized for both the public and the hosts. This makes it important to have clear judgement while trying to control a situation into an outcome that is positive and safe.

In contrast to events, during the workshops it is possible to dwell in between and let go of controlling an outcome. In an ideal situation, the responsibilities of holding space are shared within the group. LIMBO members’ shared queer refugee experience and similar challenges faced in the Dutch context, potentially make the group members themselves ideal to hold space for each other’s humanity in all its complexities, ambiguities and challenges. When done successfully, diversity and inclusion are practised by recognizing and supporting similarity and difference at the same time. It has the potential to counter victimizing narratives (Ghorashi, 2018), which is an important aim of research collaborations and co-creation with refugees generally.

However, holding space is intense emotional labour. It becomes increasingly difficult when the narratives are complex, painful, full of trauma and triggers. There are constant challenges refugees face in asylum centres, shelters and their inability to be with their family, finding suitable jobs or places where they feel safe. Under such conditions of ongoing crises, mistakes in holding space are bound to be made even if they’re done with the best intentions. In contrast to creativity where mistakes are encouraged, mistakes in holding space can break trust from (individuals in) the group that has been built over time. In view of this, space holders should have proper training, time and resources. Unfortunately, LIMBO does not have the capacity, skills or budget to provide such training, time or resources.

Moreover, if one is holding space for queer refugee narratives, the sharers’ needs, emotions and transformation need to be prioritized. This implies that, in addition to proper training, the space holders’ needs have to be met elsewhere (Plett, 2020). In the case of LIMBO members as space holders, they often have no support system outside LIMBO—so many members see LIMBO as their family and sometimes jokingly call the organizers ‘mom’. The concept of chosen family is not uncommon in queer culture. Particularly in queer ballroom culture, there are ‘houses’ in which the ‘legendary children’ are led by the ‘mother’ of that house (Bailey, 2011). In research methodologies where care is central, especially in the context of queer culture, it is important to remember to care, while keeping a healthy distance and not taking on a ‘mother role’. Excessive intimacy can hinder the ability to properly hold space. Plett (2020) argues that holding space is not recommended ‘when close is too close’, simply because the greater attachment makes it harder ‘to let go of the outcome – because the outcome has a direct impact on us’ (p. 103). This is why healthy personal, as well as structural (space and time), boundaries are important, because one needs to protect oneself and the group while holding space—particularly because ‘[m]any people, especially those in crisis mode, are unaware of how much emotional labor they ask of others’ (Plett, 2020, p. 87).

4 De/Recentring

Both decentring and recentring appeared in LIMBO as important conditions for co-creation, as they involve leadership in terms of democratic decision-making and sharing responsibilities. Co-creation entails the ability of those leading the research process (who are generally the researchers, but also applies to collaborators or co-creators leading parts of the process) to move in and outside the centre. Decentring involves temporarily letting go of the leading position to become part of the group (Braidotti, 2018). Recentring involves making critical decisions when clear direction is needed. For example, in case of conflicting desires or needs when there are too many captains trying to steer the ship in different directions. By decentring and recentring, the researcher can actively navigate diverse values and expectations in co-creation projects, which may differ greatly within a group as well as between institutions and communities.

Decentring is described in the literature as essential to ‘intimate scholarship’. Transformative engaged scholarship can be seen as a form of intimate scholarship, when the researcher is part of the study and therefore also being researched (Hamilton & Pinnegar, 2014). The ‘researcher being researched’ does not necessarily mean by someone else but could also be in the form of rigorous self-reflexivity (Caretta & Riaño, 2016). By allowing the group to take the lead, the researcher can enable the co-creation process to be truly collaborative. Overall, decentring enables the group to take ownership of their own stories and experiences and ensures that the co-creation process is respectful, inclusive and reflective of the group's needs and desires. It allows for a more open and transformative co-creation process that can lead to deeper understanding of and support for the research itself.

In contrast, recentring is important because it involves stepping in as a leader and making decisions when necessary. Additionally, recentring helps make academic knowledge and experience more visible when embracing epistemic multiplicity. While decentring is about stepping back and allowing the group to lead, the notion of recentring recognizes there are times when the researcher's expertise and perspective are valuable in guiding the co-creation process. While the researcher should prioritize the voices and experiences of the participating co-creators, they must also ensure that the general direction and main purpose of the project stays on track. Furthermore, recentring allows the researcher to address potential risky situations or conflicts that arise. The researcher may have to intervene in conflict and guide the group towards resolutions that align with the project’s overall goals. Rather than maintaining the complete control over the co-creative research, decentring-recentring is a balanced and dynamic process that requires the researcher to recognize when their expertise and leading role are needed. It is a delicate balance between stepping back and stepping in order to support and facilitate a collaborative and transformative co-creation experience.

4.1 What Are the Challenges of Decentring-Recentring?

In the context of LIMBO, this careful navigation of decentring-recentring proved to be challenging. In the first period (LIMBO part I in Fig. 11.1), FH drove the organizing with input from community members with whom they had previously worked. The experience of Trans-Clash was still fresh, which made balancing community needs and theory and former research insights relatively easy. Seven community-led workshops were organized, and the project was supposed to finish with a final presentation in the form of an exhibition at the art institution. The project generated a lot of enthusiasm. Also, the snowball effect worked because the group had grown from six participants in the first workshop to a group of 20 at the public presentation that attracted more than 200 visitors. Given the group’s enthusiasm and the feelings of hope, safety and joy it generated, we felt that we needed to continue.

I felt safe enough to share this with this group and I felt there was the sense of hope being built, and from the conversation that I had with a lot of people they really did want this initiative to continue because it represents hope for them. (Musa)

Almost all members asked for LIMBO to continue and expressed concern that it might end. We also received an abundance of positive reactions from the visitors at the public event and saw how LIMBO had a positive transformative influence. As researchers and the art institution, we were equally excited and therefore decided to continue. In terms of research, it meant that we could see what is entailed in making such a project durational and sustainable.

However, in continuing LIMBO (part II in Fig. 11.1), challenges concerning time and responsibilities arose along the way that needed immediate solutions. FH spent many hours co-organizing and co-facilitating workshops, which proved too much alongside other academic commitments. Given the emotional labour of holding space, we sought to shift this responsibility to people in the group. The idea was that the researcher would progressively fully decentre, so that LIMBO members could step in and take on these responsibilities. However, as LIMBO continued to expand to more than 50 participants and started to be recognized by the wider Dutch LGBTQIA+ community and refugee organizations, the requests for collaborations and responsibilities grew. This was received with enthusiasm by the organizers and group members. It fostered feelings of finally belonging in the Dutch context in ways that suit them. For some, the hope that LIMBO represented became a goal of making it into a permanent job—especially for those who had been struggling for many years to find work in the Netherlands and longed to move out of the uncertainty and challenges of living in their continuous liminal state. In LIMBO, they felt that their expertise of in-betweenness was finally recognized and that they could use this knowledge and creativity to reach a more stable situation, both financially and emotionally. While FH tried to manage expectations, they also didn’t want to kill or put brakes on hopes and dreams.

In reality, FH failed to decentre. From their perspective, the initial focus had shifted from holding space for workshop participants to now also guiding and accommodating the needs and desires of organizers and workshop leaders. This was not only more work, but the work itself was also of a different nature. Holding space is not controlling the outcome (Plett, 2020), which is more in line with a task of a researcher, to observe and analyse without intervening. In contrast, organizing is meant to control an outcome in terms of content, scheduling, safety measures and so forth. We communicated boundaries in what we as organizers could do and what was beyond our capacity. However, in trying to keep up with the growing enthusiasm and requests for more events, the boundaries became blurred. We were spending increasingly more time listening to ideas for new initiatives and collaborations with other organizations. Although we kept explaining that we could not support ‘outside LIMBO projects’, we were continuing to give support in terms of listening and sometimes advising.

This was a gradual process, which made it difficult to start establishing clear boundaries. Given the pressure of growth expectations within the group, the organizers and FH in particular were slowly but steadily becoming overwhelmed with all this growth and enthusiasm. The stakes for the organizers also became higher and conflicting desires among LIMBO members affected our core task of holding space together as a team. This meant that in situations of conflict between LIMBO members, FH needed to be involved in resolution or mediation. The increase in communication and guidance, while trying to hold space for everyone’s ideas and dreams, became too much and FH was forced to temporarily step back due to symptoms of burnout.

During the necessary break for healing and reflection, a few things became evident. For LIMBO part III (Fig. 11.1), FH had to recentre and establish clear boundaries, particularly in terms of time and space. We realized that for the project to be sustainable, we could only hold space during contained meetings. We had to shift back to the original idea of simply holding space for queer refugee narratives, without trying to guide the growth of community organizers. In addition, rather than different people organizing different workshops, which was the case in the first two periods, we found two experienced people with more ‘relational distance’ to facilitate all the workshops for the entire last period. These facilitators have a (forced) migration background, but are not relationally entangled with the group. Our aim thus shifted from co-organizing and co-holding space, to more ‘experienced outsiders’ holding space. We believe that this is better because of the greater emotional distance, which makes it easier to ‘let go of controlling an outcome’ (Plett, 2020), in an attempt to remove (result-oriented) stress.

Because FH was forced to decide on this re-evaluation and new direction and was thus not co-created with the group, it posed the question of horizontal versus hierarchical decision-making. If decisions are made in a top-down fashion, does it still align with a democratic approach where the group’s input and voices are considered? The answer to this question relates to the context and general aim of the project. If its aim exceeds holding space for narratives to co-organizing a long-term project, then the necessary resources and support need to be in place. In fact, LIMBO is inspired by Phoebe Kisubi Mbasalaki’s research in South Africa as part of the Global Grace project (GlobalGRACE, 2018), where there was extensive support in terms of therapists, conflict mediators and so on. In LIMBO, we realized later the need to keep it smaller and simpler because we had been seduced by the enthusiasm and growth. Fortunately, the group expressed a lot of care and understanding of this decision to go back to the core essence, as most members desired first and foremost a space to express their narratives safely and creatively.

5 Conclusion

This chapter has delved into the potential of transformative engaged scholarship in co-creation with queer refugees through the lens of the LIMBO project. Our exploration was guided by the principles of transformative and critical academic work, which seek to challenge established power dynamics, biases and discriminatory practices while fostering inclusivity and equity. We have shown how this requires an act of decentring to create the necessary space for co-creation in knowledges that are often excluded in the process of academic knowledge production. Even when voices of disadvantaged communities are included in research there is often a lack of meaningful engagement with such perspectives as integral part of knowledge production. This means that a selective inclusion of those voices do not challenge the normalized assumptions inherent in much research. This is partly to do with the fact that acts of decentring make scholars vulnerable in the process of knowledge production. We also aimed to show how such vulnerability can become a strength when this form of scholarship contributes to transformation at the level of individual co-creators and of the group as a whole. Transformative academic engagement goes beyond mere description and documentation in recognizing agency and creativity, while following the perspectives of marginalized communities as leaders in the process. Within the context of this co-creative project, three pivotal conditions emerged that underpinned this transformative process: creativity, holding space and the dynamic interplay of de/recentring.

Creativity in LIMBO is seen as the possibility of unsettling and liberating oneself from normalized positioning. The liminal space of LIMBO allows individuals to temporarily suspend social expectations and explore their identities within the new (Dutch) context. The playful and creative atmosphere of LIMBO provides a sense of relief from daily stress and struggles, promoting joy and tuning into what feels good. Creativity allows individuals to move away from the pressure to fit into social norms, in reference to queerness and refugeeness. The transformative potential of LIMBO is evident at the individual, group and public levels. At the individual level, LIMBO encourages tuning into oneself without the pressure to produce specific outcomes. At a group level, the mutual learning experience fosters bonds and a sense of collectivity and kinship among the participants. At the public level, LIMBO’s public presentations and co-created publications serve as platforms to share stories and art, enabling public reflexivity.

Holding space is a crucial element in the context of LIMBO as it provides a safer and supportive environment for queer refugees. This non-judgemental space allows them to freely express themselves without feeling inadequate. However, holding space also involves intense emotional labour, especially when narratives are complex and traumatic. It is essential to prioritize the needs and emotions of the sharers and provide proper training and/or support for the space holders.

Decentring and recentring are other important aspects in the co-creation process, involving stepping in and back as leaders when needed and making the value of academic knowledge more visible. While holding space is aligned with decentring as it encourages autonomy and decision-making, recentring requires making critical decisions that may challenge certain values or may not fully align with the ideas of (everyone in) the group. The challenges of recentring and decentring in LIMBO are thus multifaceted and require careful navigation. In LIMBO, we were seduced by the enthusiasm, growth and visible transformations that occurred, but realized that we had to keep it simple and go back to the essential core of holding space for queer refugee narratives.

Overall, transformative engaged scholarship in co-creation with queer refugees in LIMBO offers a space for the agency of queer refugees, enabling them to challenge social norms and create their own narratives on their own terms. At the same time, it is important to recognize the challenges and complexities in maintaining these conditions and to continuously adapt and evolve the co-creation process to best serve the needs and desires of the participants, while honouring the organizers’ emotional, practical and structural capacity and boundaries.