I chose this topic because it reflects the reality of my day-to-day practice and one of the most formative journeys of my professional life. Working as a Practitioner using the Non-Violent Resistance approach has repeatedly placed me alongside families living with fear, exhaustion, and profound uncertainty, they endure whilst navigating violence in the home and simultaneously facing serious risks that sit far beyond it.
Much of my work involves high-risk cases, often where contextual safeguarding is present, such as exploitation, county lines, criminalisation, and extra-familial harm. These are not cases where difficulties are contained within the family system. Instead, parents are trying to protect their children from powerful external influences while managing aggression, withdrawal, and fear inside the home. Over time, I noticed how often parents arrived feeling erased, stripped of confidence, authority, and hope despite their relentless efforts to keep their children safe.
My presentation grew from one particular case that shaped me deeply as a Practitioner. It was one of the first cases I held, and it forced me to sit with the uncomfortable reality that meaningful work does not always lead to neat or predictable outcomes. The family’s journey challenged my early expectations of what ‘success’ should look like and pushed me to reflect honestly on my role, my values, and the limits of control in high-risk safeguarding contexts. What struck me most was how contextual risk profoundly impacted parental presence. Years of aggression, absconding, exploitation concerns, and professional involvement had left the parents operating in survival mode, whereby fear governed decisions and boundaries felt dangerous. Attempts to intervene often escalated situations rather than calming them. Understandably, parental presence was lowered, not because of a lack of care, but because staying emotionally and physically present felt unsafe.
Non-Violent Resistance offered a different way forward, rather than focusing on control or compliance, NVR helped shift the work toward presence, connection, and resistance without violence. It allowed the parents to slow down, ground themselves, and respond intentionally rather than reactively. Over time, I witnessed how increasing calm, anchored parental presence interrupted cycles of escalation and created moments of safety where none had existed before.
Vigilant Care was particularly significant in this work. It helped the parents move from fear and erasure to calm attentiveness. It allowed them to hold their child in mind emotionally and practically while remaining alert to extra-familial harm. Even when outcomes later moved beyond the family’s control, this form of care ensured that the connection was not lost. The family stayed united, engaged, and present during moments when it would have been easy to collapse under shame or despair.
Cultural competence was not an added layer to this intervention; it was central to it. The family’s cultural identity, faith, and values shaped how they understood parenting, resilience, and responsibility. One parent, in particular, held a naturally strong, grounded presence rooted in cultural tradition and spirituality. Rather than imposing a new model of parenting, NVR was adapted to build on these strengths. It enhanced what was already there, providing structure, language, and containment without undermining identity, belief systems, or moral values.
This experience reinforced for me that effective practice must honour culture rather than override it. When families feel respected and understood, engagement deepens, resistance softens, and hope becomes possible again.
As a Practitioner, I often found myself holding tension between immediate safeguarding demands and the slower, relational work that NVR requires. There were moments of overwhelm, moments of doubt, and moments where the wider system pushed for quick change in situations that required patience and containment. This case taught me that my role is not to choose between safety and relationship, but to hold both at once.
The intervention did not end as I had hoped, as serious external events changed the course of the family’s journey. Yet, what stayed with me was the shift in the parents themselves. They no longer responded from panic or collapse; they remained present and leaned on support rather than isolating. They held their child in mind even when circumstances were painful and frightening, and with this, their narrative changed from helplessness to resilience.
Hence, I felt compelled to focus on this topic, as it reflects the truth of the work, that NVR does not promise perfect outcomes, but it does offer families dignity, agency, and connection in the face of complexity. It reminds us that even when risk cannot be removed, relationships can still be protected, and with this, it reaffirms why I do this work. It reminds me that parental presence matters not only when things improve, but especially when they don’t. Therefore, it strengthened my belief that my role as a Practitioner is to walk alongside families, honour their culture, hold hope when it feels fragile, and never underestimate the power of staying present in the darkest moments.
Written by Simone Rennalls
CAPVA Team Leader
RISE Mutual
NVR Association (NVRA) Accredited Practitioner
Accreditation Module Participant, 2025
