Archive for the ‘Inclusion’ Category

“A society where everyone matters”

Wednesday, October 11th, 2017

by Jess Cahill & Yewande Akintelu-Omoniyi

This article is from the Summer 2017 edition of Inclusion Now. Join ALLFIE to receive three issues of Inclusion Now per year.

ALLFIE recently met Dame Christine Lenehan, Director of the Council for Disabled Children (CDC), which represents the national disabled children’s sector. We thought it would be an interesting time to talk to her as she has been working for the government on a review of residential special schools. Her report is due out in early winter.

We asked Christine how the review came about. She explained her own motivation:

“My first job as a professional was working on long stay hospital wards in the 70s and 80s. So that really left an imprint on me. In honesty I’d been trying to look at residential schools for quite a long time, and that’s partly because if children are a long way from home I want to know they’re there for the right reasons and in the right place and getting the right outcomes.”

As well as some political background, she explained that the review was partly triggered by her previous report this year on children in mental health inpatient services.

There are 324 residential special schools and colleges across the UK (“We can now tell you this, we couldn’t before we started.”). For the current review they visited 10% of these across the Ofsted spectrum, from “outstanding” to “requires improvement”, and talked to young people wherever they visited. They spoke to local authorities and looked at why some were placing a lot more children out of the area than others. And they put out a call for evidence, receiving around 130 responses from parents and other people, including from us at ALLFIE. At the time we met, they were digesting what they had found.

Christine talked about her impressions: “I think the strongest thing that comes out of it is that this is not a planned and coordinated system. I think the worst thing for the children and young people is that they repeatedly fail and that they internalise that failure. When you ask the kids “why are you here then?” they say “because I got thrown out of this school and I got thrown out of that school and I couldn’t live at home and I couldn’t do this and I couldn’t do that” and they see that as belonging to them. What they don’t see is this is a system that failed you, they see themselves as being failures of a system.”

“The phrase we use at ALLFIE is that children are being set up to fail,” we commented.

“Yes and I think that’s true. I think we saw a lot of that. The strongest thing that came out of that for me was just how powerful bullying is. We know that bullying is a really powerful dynamic but actually it was SO powerful for these groups of young people. They were very positive often about the schools they were in because they were the first places they hadn’t been bullied in.”

She also feels the mainstream is becoming less tolerant of disability, and that the effect of much of the positive work on inclusion that CDC did with ALLFIE, with similar organisations and with people like Richard Rieser around the time of the Disability Discrimination Act had been lost. “One of the things that shocked us was the amount of children who should have done really well in mainstream education and were not there because reasonable adjustments had not been made.”

“One of the groups of children we saw were children with autism, who were bright, able kids who were going to get 5 A to Cs, or they should have done, but people were just not making the adjustments. People were expecting them to be different than they were. They were young people with autism in massive schools without safe spaces. Often they would come out of that because their mental health wouldn’t cope, they’d get very anxious about it, or again they would do something, usually to do with behaviour, that would take them out of the school, and the minute they did that the future for them in terms of success would start to go down fairly quickly. Yet we know for many of those people fairly basic reasonable adjustments in schools can meet their needs.”

When ALLFIE submitted evidence to the review we were struck by how much people’s stories reflected huge forces which have shaped their lives negatively and left them feeling quite powerless, and we asked Christine what she thought those forces were.

“We’ve now got this huge array of different ways of running education whether it’s free schools or academies or local authorities. What we don’t seem to have behind that is a set of standards for all children.” She also identified that this had created a challenge in the system about who provides specialist services, such as peripatetic hearing impairment teachers, and who pays for them, where they were previously the responsibility of the local authority and a shared resource for all local schools.

Then the diversity of schools can lead to discrimination. “It appears that some chains of schools are excluding and other chains of schools aren’t. When there’s that narrow attitude of ‘how do I meet my targets? Well I don’t take children who aren’t going to hit them,’ then actually that’s fundamentally wrong.”

She also cited cuts to NHS services and social care, and not just education: “People have retreated back into their silos. The NHS does only what it has to do, schools only do what they have to do. The children we represent need really good creative joined up commissioning. We wanted to be clear that austerity bites.”

As well as individual factors which triggered a child being sent to residential school, whether a school exclusion, difficulties with their social care package or family breakdown, she was clear that local authorities were experiencing problems with capacity due to a bulge in the child population, and also lack of expertise which was often about poor planning in the system. “The best local authorities plan. They understand who their children are, they’ve got really good data, they understand place planning. Local authorities that are in more trouble just react: ‘Oh my god, what have we got to do here?’ Some of that is to do with the fact a lot of their staff have gone [due to cuts], but some will just always be better than others.”

We also discussed why some parents actively seek residential schooling for their child. Christine had found that some, particularly parents of autistic children, thought specialist provision such as the “24 hour waking day curriculum” would give their child the best chance in life, but there was also a group of parents who struggled with their child’s care and found residential schooling more acceptable, believing that it would meet all their child’s needs, rather than leaving them to battle with separate authorities themselves.

“We’re trying to untangle these things because they’re difficult. Families should get choice, they should be able to choose lives for their children, they should get the very best. But is the very best you want as a parent the very best you want as a child? Are they things that we have really good conversations about? I’m not necessarily sure they are. And if we decide we’re going to fund these children at this cost and we take it out of the local system, are we then putting less money in the local system for more children? I think there are some really difficult dynamics behind this.”

The report had not been written when we met so Christine couldn’t tell us exactly what her recommendations would be, but she did define for us what a good inclusive education system would look like for her: “I’m not saying it was perfect before, but I think we have moved away from a good inclusion system and I think one of the things we will want to recommend back to government is an inclusion strategy. I think a good inclusion system is an education system that sees its purpose not solely about academic achievements, although I’m not saying that’s not important, but about educating children to be part of a whole society where everyone matters. I think we have got a system that’s become increasingly narrow about defining a cohort of children that succeed, and if you define a cohort of children that succeed you in effect define a cohort of children who fail.

“There are some really good inclusive schools. The quote always in my head is from a head teacher from a school in the North East. ‘We may be an 800 place school but we have 800 individual children with 800 individual sets of needs and a good school meets 800 individual needs.’”

“One of the challenges we wanted to bring out in the review is that assumption that because a decision was made at 9 that your child should be in this school does that mean they’re there till they’re 18? Should we see more children going for what is needed and coming back again?” The review may propose that residential education should function more as a system of shared expertise, which a child attends temporarily with the aim of assessing them and returning them to their community with a package of support. “One of the other things that happens to children is when they move away and then become young adults they have real issues about friendship groups and circles, so should we assume that going away is for the whole of your childhood or should we ask some questions about that?”

“One of the most frightening things about the first review that I did was watching children come out of their community at nine, ten, eleven, twelve and never returning.” She was uncomfortably reminded of her past work in long stay hospitals and that era’s attitude that removing disabled children permanently from society was “kinder for them”.

However she also felt there was a balancing act to get right. “One of the things we got wrong when we closed hospitals and introduced inclusion is we forgot that people make friends with people like them. So you’d have one disabled person in an able-bodied environment and isolate them entirely, because actually they wanted to talk to people who shared the same views, who shared the same challenges. There’s something about how you build those friendships and those worlds without saying the answer is to put all the disabled people in this environment and they can all talk to each other.”

We also asked how CDC could enable children to understand that they have rights such as the right to mainstream education, and Christine explained that just telling people about rights is not enough – children and service providers need to understand how these work in practice, so CDC have produced toolkits for practical activities, and worked with a theatre company acting out some of those situations.

We were also interested in how she felt about the challenges of representing a sector which has often very mixed views. “I think we are on a road to citizenship for young people. I don’t think we’re anywhere near the end of that journey yet. And I think each generation that comes along has to challenge for the next. Organisations like ALLFIE, because they have disabled people at their heart in a way we don’t, are part of that challenge. Looking forward I think we will keep falling out with ALLFIE and I think it’s a really important thing that we do, provided in the end what we have is a constructive dialogue. You’re the essential grit in the machine. One of the things I’ve learnt in my career is the need to learn from disabled people about their experiences.

“I recognise regularly the frustration of the disabled people’s movement that things do not seem to progress in the way they need to and most of the time that frustration is one that’s shared. I might regret this but I would encourage organisations like ALLFIE to keep being frustrated and to keep pushing us to move and to change.”

My thoughts on “Schools that work for everyone”

Monday, January 9th, 2017

My name is Yewande and I am an office volunteer at ALLFIE. A few weeks ago, I was working with our Campaigns Coordinator Simone, looking through the new Government consultation. It is called “Schools that work for everyone”.  Their plan is to make schools more selective and to introduce more grammar schools. So my job was to find out if the consultation showed how these changes are going to affect disabled pupils (including those with SEN). The subject of grammar and selective schools has always been a controversial one so I was interested to see what the new Prime Minister and her Government’s take would be on them. This blog post is going be about what I think of the consultation.

Worryingly, there is no mention of disabled pupils or those with SEN in the consultation. My view is that grammar school and selective education is not good for disabled children and young people. I believe that education should be inclusive of all children and young people regardless of ability. Inclusive education is a fundamental human right, and should be taken seriously.

I also believe that when it comes to selective education, a limited view of “ability” is being tested. The test criteria are most likely to be very narrow; as a result many disabled pupils will not be able to pass, due to the nature of their impairment. The testing will not be broad enough to accommodate the fact that people learn in different ways, especially when you have an impairment.

One of the main points of the consultation is that some schools will still remain non selective. If parents of disabled children cannot get them into selective schools, then the next step usually would be to send them to a non-selective school. This may seem like a positive development; however it is still a cause for concern. It is fair to say that more of the funding will go to selective schools, because the Gov. wants to make most schools selective. When the funding goes to the selective schools, it means that non selective schools will have fewer resources. This will result in non-selective schools having fewer students and fewer good teachers. Most parents and teachers do not want to be part of a school that does not have enough money. Low student and teacher numbers can lead to poor quality education, and may even mean closure for some non selective schools. This puts parents of disabled children and young people in a difficult position. If their child or young person is not getting a good education in a non-selective mainstream school, many of them will feel that they have no choice but to send them into segregated provision, by that I mean special schools and special units.

In conclusion, I believe that the Government plans are a huge step back for inclusive education. Even if a small percentage of disabled children and young people are chosen to attend selective schools, it is still wrong because education should welcome all pupils instead of fitting a few into narrow criteria. The disabled pupils who get selected have less chance of receiving an inclusive approach to their learning, even if they are struggling with certain aspects of it. We should find ways of improving our education system for disabled pupils by exploring various learning styles and showing teachers the different ways that children and young people learn. The Government also should provide funding and resources for schools to develop an inclusive ethos.

The Government is showing that inclusion is not a priority for them by not mentioning disabled pupils and students in the consultation. If more parents start to feel that they have no option but to send their child or young person to segregated provision, the less chance there is for children and young people to be educated together. If children and young people of all abilities are not educated together, there is less opportunity for us to create an inclusive society.

 

Yewande Akintelu-Omoniyi

ALLFIE Office Volunteer

How grammar schools excluded me as a disabled child

Monday, December 5th, 2016

Our anonymous writer tells us how he was barred from grammar schools in the eighties due to disability.

As a young child starting infant school I was often absent from school due to various illnesses, and the fact I was born with disabilities didn’t help the situation. Due to my unavoidable absences my infant school teachers saw me as behind the rest of the class and basically an obstruction to other pupils’ learning. As I was seen as a “struggling student” I was not given extra help but instead left in a corner to play with Lego as others were learning. I was lucky as I was reading and writing ahead of my peers, only all my learning happened when absent from school from my mother and grandparents.

Eventually time passed and my peers and I were due to move up to junior school. This was when my mother was informed I would not be with my peers but placed in a “special school” to help me catch up with children my age. I was then sent to a different school which I had to travel to via minibus everyday due to the distance. The staff at this school were obviously more aware of pupils’ abilities as I came top of the class throughout my junior school years, even with continued absences. When I was in my final year the headmaster attempted to get permission for me to sit the 11 plus exam – a special school pupil apparently had no need as they wouldn’t pass or qualify for local grammar schools. My headmaster gave me his own version of the test and then sent the results and a personal statement of my abilities to my local grammar school and Manchester grammar school, explaining that although I was disabled I could manage all the work without any problems. Both grammar schools replied to my mother and my school explaining that, although academically I could easily be accepted, they could not take students who couldn’t participate fully in their curriculum, which included an extensive sporting requirement. I accept this may not be the case in all grammar schools but in Manchester and Altrincham in the mid eighties this was their excuse.

In 1986 I started at my local high school where I found in the first year I was bullied extensively – and not just by other students. The work I was given consisted of workbooks and papers I had already completed at my junior school, as since I was ahead of some of the other pupils, teachers had given me the work  so I had something to do, never expecting the same work to be handed out at secondary school or that both grammar schools would refuse me. As anyone can imagine, along with the bullying, being bored in almost every class resulted in me not wanting to be at the school on most days. Although my absences were less now they were still more often than most and a lot of teachers decided I was lying about my disabilities and other illnesses to get out of attending school, so if I was being accused of truancy for the first two years I felt I may as well play truant. I would leave my house to go to school most days and end up going all over the country finding and visiting libraries, art galleries and museums – probably giving myself a better and more intense education anyway.

I left school in the early nineties with two GCSE grades F and G – not a great start to life – so I worked for a year, then attended a general vocational course at my local college, going on to study English literature and ESOL/TEFL as it was known then, becoming a qualified adult literacy support teacher and a qualified ESOL teacher.

Segregated education on the grounds of physical or perceived academic ability is not only a disgrace in this day and age but can also ruin people’s lives. If I had been accepted at a grammar school, given something to learn and not repeat and not been discriminated against due to my disabilities, my life may have turned out very differently.

UK Disability History Month – Language and Disability

Monday, October 24th, 2016

UK Disability History Month coordinator Richard Rieser writes about this year’s theme: language and disability

Schools and colleges should now be planning what they will do in this year’s Disability History Month (22nd November – 22nd December, though you can do work before and after). Let us know your events.

34% of disabled Year 9 students  compared to 26% of non disabled students, experience bullying through name calling, according to the Equality and Human Rights Commission and Government. The ‘othering’ process that starts with name calling and devalues the disabled victim leads to social exclusion (21%), threats of violence (26%) and experience of actual violence (24%) – more than double that experienced by non-disabled students (11%). Schools have statutory duties to eliminate bullying. So examining the roots of disablist and pejorative language is an essential part of creating a climate of disability equality in your school or college. We have worked with the Anti Bullying Alliance to produce a whole range of resources to enable teachers to challenge language based disablist bullying.

Historically disablist language is common. In William Shakespeare’s “Richard III”, Scene I, Act I, Gloucester’s first speech before Richard was King is perhaps the most famous speech about the impacts of impairment on character, reinforcing the link between evil and disability.

“…Deformed, unfinish’d, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;”

This followed Sir Thomas Moore’s much earlier account of “The Life and Death of Richard III”. Moore’s account was written to curry favour with Henry VIII, who felt very insecure as King, because his father, Henry VII, had claimed the crown having killed Richard III in the battle of Bosworth, so usurping or stealing the crown. Moore therefore embellished history and added to Richard’s ‘hunchback’ or scoliosis, (now proven with the recent discovery of his skeleton in a Leicestershire car park), a ‘lame leg’ and ‘withered arm’ (both made-up) and dubiously directly linked Richard to the murder of his brother, the Princes in the Tower and several others which suited  Tudor propaganda. Shakespeare produced magnificent literature in Richard, who is contradictory, both an evil monster /murderer and  a magnetic personality, attractive to women.

Throughout history, human physical and mental differences have been described in language and given meaning based on the thinking of the day, reinforcing powerful stereotypes which stretch down the years and still influence thinking about disabled people. This is the theme of UK Disability History Month  Autumn 2016. We will focus on the language and words used to describe disabled people over time. What were the historic attitudes and ideas which led to this language? This includes literature, theatre, history, oral history, coverage in the newspapers and other print media. Through the lens of language we will seek to gain a greater understanding of our oppression in the past and now. Through human rights and the social model approach to disability, barriers can be removed and attitudes changed.

Lame today is used by some young people to mean something that is good, being a reversal of the meaning not smart or impressive. In Shakespeare’s time it meant both having an injured foot/leg, make walking difficult  and not strong , good or effective. Overall this word is negative, sad and not a good experience. Halt was a word in common use then, meaning the same as lame, as was cripple, also meaning to move slowly, to be permanently injured or have no power.  The polarity of good and evil/ beautiful and unsightly in this language is found right across all languages and is a major contributor to the devaluation of disabled people. Generally, disabled people of that period would have had families, worked and not been distinguished from the mass of common people, unless severely impaired. Those not looked after by their community would have begged, though this became outlawed and the first Poor Law (1601) meant they had to stay in their local area and seek support from the parish. So the impact of the play “Richard III” (1592) would have been dramatically strong.  At a time when people generally believed in witchcraft and tangible forces of evil, it made a powerful link between disability and evil.

As part of this year’s UKDHM we have worked with the Open University and Access All Areas to produce a pack for schools around the film on the life of Mabel Cooper. Mabel was placed in a long stay hospital for the ‘mentally deficient’ at the age of four and stayed there more than thirty years. When eventually released under care in the community, she became a major advocate for people with learning difficulties and a founder of People First. The pack has developed activities for students from KS2-5 in English, drama, history, science, geography and PHSE.

Following Darwin’s publication of The Origin of Species (1865), his cousin Frances Galton and many others thought they could speed up natural selection of human beings by stopping ‘inferior’ people from having children. This movement, eugenics, particularly focused on those they called ‘feeble-minded’, who could pass as part of the general population, but who carried the characteristics of mental deficiency, crime, immorality and destitution which could be passed onto to their children. Most people with more significant mental impairments – the mad, idiots and imbeciles – were already by this time kept in asylums and the workhouse and for those of upper and middle class in private small asylums. Eugenicist Mary Dendy, for instance, worked ceaselessly in Manchester to separate the feeble minded from other children and also adults in the home she opened in Sandlebridge, Cheshire.

In 1902, the Rev. Harold Nelson Burden, chaplain at Horfield Prison, and his wife Katharine, founded the National Institutions for Persons Requiring Care and Control, to care for mentally retarded children and adults. In 1908 they rented the Stoke Park estate, opening the Stoke Park Colony in April 1909. The colony was the first institution certified as a home for mentally retarded patients under the Mental Deficiency Act 1913, the Rev. Burden having been a member of the Royal Commission for inquiry into care of the feeble-minded which led to the Act. The colony was regarded as a leading institution of its type.

The agitation, actions and false thinking of Galton, Dendy and Burden and a small group of other eugenicist activists led to a Royal Commission on Mental Deficiency which was supplied with false scientific evidence by psychologists like Cyril Burt, who provided intelligence tests, and doctors like AF Tredgold, who provided the authoritative text on mental deficiency for the next sixty years. This was followed by more eugenicist fear and propaganda which led to the Mental Deficiency Act 1913 being voted through Parliament with only two votes against. This led to the licensing and shutting away for life of 130,000 people, a growth industry in diagnosis and labelling, and the setting up of over 100 large institutions many of which only began to close in the 1980s to 2000s – many of the children’s facilities just changed their name to special school.

The 1913 Act established the Board of Control for Lunacy and Mental Deficiency to oversee the implementation of provisions for the care and management of four classes of people:

“a) Idiots. Those so deeply defective as to be unable to guard themselves against common physical dangers.

b) Imbeciles. Whose defectiveness does not amount to idiocy, but is so pronounced that they are incapable of managing themselves or their affairs, or, in the case of children, of being taught to do so.

c) Feeble-minded persons. Whose weakness does not amount to imbecility, yet who require care, supervision, or control, for their protection or for the protection of others, or, in the case of children, are incapable of receiving benefit from the instruction in ordinary schools.

d) Moral Imbeciles. Displaying mental weakness coupled with strong vicious or criminal propensities, and on whom punishment has little or no deterrent effect”.

Some of these words, though unacceptable, are still in common use as harassing language, but most young people know nothing of this particularly nasty period of oppression. This year’s UKDHM gives us all an excellent chance to challenge such ignorance and rejoin the struggle for disability equality. The pack will be launched in Parliament at 11am on the 22nd November. UKDHM will launch that evening at 6pm at Kings Place, Kings Cross.

Richard Rieser

This is an expanded version of an article that appears in Inclusion Now 45. You can join ALLFIE to receive three issues of Inclusion Now per year.

How did I do as a blind dad?

Thursday, August 11th, 2016

I know, I’m not the only parent to worry about how good a job I’ve done.  But, being a father with a profound disability gives  me some additional pause for thought.  As Caitlin, my only child, prepares to celebrate her 21st birthday, it’s an obvious moment to take stock and recall some of the challenges of being a blind parent.

Since Caitlin left home for university, she’s begun to gain some perspective on her parents and upbringing.  During a recent trip home, Caitlin and I had a few very frank discussions about what it’s been like having a blind Dad and how my obvious limitations have affected her. Caitlin admits, she finds it difficult knowing how to introduce my disability to new people she meets.  She dreads the awkward silences and same old questions that can follow – and it pains her when these responses come from people she has reason to admire and respect.

“It doesn’t matter how many times they’ve heard the one about the blind man who climbed Everest,” she complains, “they still ask the most basic questions about how you get dressed and get around.  I can’t explain, it makes you sound sort of …”

“Helpless?” I offer.

“Yeah, I suppose that’s it.  And then, I think they must see me as unusual or different.”

Caitlin’s never enjoyed being different or standing out.  And, knowing this, I’ve always tried to shield her from the stereotypes and prejudice I regularly encounter.  As Community Care, the journal for social care professionals notes: “children whose parents have additional support needs can acquire labels which are stigmatising and isolating”.

That’s why we always tried to get Caitlin into schools with a positive record on the inclusion of disabled children.  If any difficulties arose, we reckoned we’d be pushing at an open door.  Once, when Caitlin was nine, I presented a session to her class about Braille.  It was well received, and each child left the room with a Braille alphabet card, a secret message to de-code later and, so I hoped, the impression that Caitlin’s Dad, whilst different, was also an interesting and articulate man.

At secondary school things were more difficult.  Caitlin acquired the acute self-consciousness of a teenager and any parental presence at school was viewed as a potential source of embarrassment.  We received detailed instructions from her on what to wear and what to say in order to mitigate any loss of face: and one of Caitlin’s stipulations was that I should never bring my white cane.

Caitlin recalls, when she was 17, inviting her first serious boyfriend back to the house.  “I hadn’t mentioned to Tom you were blind and, because you and Mum had gone out to the theatre, I didn’t think you’d meet.  But you guys came back early and I remember us all standing round the island in the kitchen, feeling extremely awkward.  Then Tom reached out to shake your hand and I had to look away because I couldn’t bear seeing what would happen next!”

“Yes,” I offer, “but all credit to Tom for how he handled it.  And, later, the two of us got on really well.”

One of the standard questions Caitlin gets asked is, “who cares for who?”.  It’s a fair point.

Having one or both parents with a disability can shift the boundaries of responsibility and dependence, and there’s evidence to suggest it may have a detrimental impact on children.  Research commissioned by the Joseph Rowntree Foundation, examined the experiences of 60 young carers aged 16-25.  It concludes that: “Many children and young people who spend time caring for a chronically sick or disabled parent experience long-term problems in their own lives resulting from missed school and lack of qualifications or job opportunities”. The same study identifies an increased incidence of anxiety, depression and difficulties transitioning into adult life.

Caitlin never missed a day’s school on my account and she appears to be doing well at university.  However, it’s true that, when it came to the practicalities of child-rearing, there was often less available energy.  My disability meant there were tasks I couldn’t do and a whole lot more I could do, but only by slower and more circuitous routes.  Significantly, more than half the young people interviewed for the JRF research were living in lone parent families.  So, I’m lucky to have had a non-disabled partner to fill the gaps,  a job to bring in the money and a support network of friends for when the going got tough.

And yet, I still worry that my disability’s had some more subtle, psychological affect on Caitlin.  What about all those extra responsibilities she had to shoulder at an earlier age?  I try to remember when it was I first took Caitlin’s arm and she began guiding me.  We’re both surprised when I say, I think it may have been as early as six or seven.

Caitlin insists that guiding me has always felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“But surely,” I ask, “you must be permanently on the lookout for lamp-posts and hazards?”

“No more than when I’m walking by myself.  It’s like you’re an extension of me and I have a sense of the space we’re taking up.”

I remember, with pleasure, when roles were reversed and Caitlin was an extension of my body.  Once upon a time, before she got too heavy, I could simply strap Caitlin into the backpack and head off wherever I liked, using my cane.  I was in charge: the way Dads are supposed to be.

Collecting Caitlin from her child-minder’s every evening was something I loved.  I felt so proud, carrying her along while, over my shoulder, she  chattered on about her day.
So, it saddened me to discover that one of the other mums had been discussing with the child-minder how dangerous it was for me to be crossing busy roads with Caitlin.  I tried talking to the mother concerned, but she just couldn’t get it.  And it rankled with me all the more because I knew she was an intelligent, talented and sometimes sensitive person.

Caitlin describes a traumatic incident when she was six.

One day, standing by the window, she saw me coming in from work, blood streaming down my face.  My wife explained I was okay and that I’d had a collision with a carelessly constructed display outside a shop.  But, when a police car pulled up, Caitlin’s anxieties peaked.

“I can’t even remember what I felt.  Maybe, I felt angry with the shop-owner?  But I clearly remember sitting there, feeling distraught, wondering, what I could do to help.  And then it came to me: [Caitlin assumes the voice of a six-year-old] `I must write to the Queen`.”

My wife posted Caitlin’s letter and I assumed that was the last we’d hear of it.  Except, to Caitlin’s six-year-old way of thinking: if you’ve taken the time to write to someone, then, obviously, you expect a reply.  And, Caitlin’s confidence was rewarded.

“I remember the sense of proving you wrong, when I got a reply.  I remember Mum screaming with excitement as we opened the envelope!”

So, aside from spawning a royalist, how have I done as a parent?  Caitlin’s never suffered from any lack of love or attention, although thoughts about available energy influenced our decision not to have a second child.  Maybe there’s a connection between the young woman who now sees herself as especially “observant” and “sensible” and some of the added responsibilities she had to assume at an early age.  Although, as Caitlin points out: “I like being sensible – and who’s to say I wouldn’t have been sensible anyway”.

Mike Lambert, ALLFIE trustee

 

This blog is an extended version of this piece on the BBC website.

Are you a disabled parent? Have your say in the comment section below.

‘United’ Kingdom and the EU: What Happens Next for Disabled Students?

Monday, July 11th, 2016

Author Miro Griffiths

Miro Griffiths

The question raised by the title of this post cannot have a simple and definite answer. The circumstances of the Government’s decision to hold a referendum on UK membership of the European Union, which resulted in a majority of voters electing to leave, are incredibly complex. The potential consequences are too varied to draw a clear conclusion as to the impact this will have on citizens and fellow human beings living in Britain; nevertheless, it is not hard to see substantial concerns from disabled campaigners, their organisations and allies regarding the effect this will have upon the lives of those experiencing disablement. Similarly, this represents a sharp turn away from the slow progress in opportunities to shape international affairs and safeguard support mechanisms to protect – or enhance – the rights of disabled people, and towards a further concentration of power for influential, elitist actors who set the terms on rights and justice for their own benefit.

Whilst the European Union should be rightly criticised on many issues, it is vital to recognise the bureaucratic processes and frameworks that sought to address the inequality and marginalisation affecting disabled people and their families across Europe. Although disabled people’s living standards continue to be severely affected by current austerity measures, adopted by the European Commission and implemented by the member states, there has been a collaborative effort to bring together various grassroots movements and challenge those that seek to cause harm during this time. Furthermore, the narrative around the debate on leaving the European Union must recognise that certain groups, including the State, have attempted to undermine the EU at all times.

Regarding the impact of the referendum result upon disabled learners, there is now a concern as to whether various EU directives will be adopted – voluntarily – by the British Government. The work priorities of the Disability Intergroup, which aspires to promote disability issues within the European Parliament, will become insignificant as the eventual exit of the UK may result in the dismissal of any proposals put forward by the group. This means any recommendations adopted by the EU in response to the United Nations Committee on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities will not need to be implemented by the UK, nor will the state prioritise the aspirations of the European Disability Strategy. Both of these examples will create further marginalisation and isolation for disabled students.

Recently, John Pring from Disability News Service highlighted the significance of three pieces of European legislation – outlined by Lord Low – that aim to have a positive effect on disabled people: procurement by public bodies, web accessibility and air passenger regulations. EU treaties guarantee certain fundamental rights to all citizens of the EU and among those rights are the free movement of persons, goods and services. Such fundamental rights will no longer be guaranteed to citizens outside the EU; therefore, it can be assumed that the barriers encountered when studying will intensify as the rights of disabled students will be further dismissed by the establishment and any discussion on advancing social justice issues associated with education can easily be excluded from the corridors of power – more so than it is now.

The economic and social inclusion aspects of the Europe 2020 strategy aimed to explore the correlation between disabled people’s underrepresentation in employment and their overrepresentation in ‘early school leaving’. This analysis identified the negative consequences of cuts to social services and community-based support – a stance echoed by the economists employed by the International Monetary Fund, who are critical of these destructive policies. This is not to embrace Brussels bureaucracy, which has been integral to the decline of democracy; rather it is a reflection of the various social structures (economic, cultural and political) that affect the development and delivery of education for people across Europe.

It is not just policy developments that will be affected; the geographic mobility of disabled learners to pursue their higher education options across Europe will become further restricted. The introduction of a European Mobility Card will, inevitably, no longer be realised and there is uncertainty as to what impact the exit will have on the Erasmus Programme (an EU exchange student programme). The scholarships provided through the Erasmus Programme are essential for meeting the access needs of disabled students but many national and international students who require support will find their opportunities further limited. The neoliberal capitalist frameworks and privatisation methods infiltrating higher education institutions are reflected in disabled people’s lack of current participation in academia. The British state has already committed to dismantling the support mechanisms for under/post graduates and the State will eventually not be required to justify itself to those within the EU who are committed to increasing disabled people’s social mobility and access to education.

Finally, detachment from the EU will lead to the further disintegration of Independent Living organisations that received support from Brussels and Strasbourg – whether through the advancement of demands through European Parliament collaboration or through financial security provided by the European Social Fund. User-led organisations have been closing rapidly for some time and it seems likely that this will accelerate due to the State ‘reclaiming’ sovereignty, which effectively means the ruling elite will be able to impose their ideology without substantial resistance from within the political system.

This article has continued the discourse surrounding the consequences for disabled people in the UK following the EU referendum result. The battle to advance the inclusion of disabled people will continue and there is a desperate need to retain the strong relationships between grassroots social movements across Europe. Those who support the fight for inclusive education must continue to plant and nurture the idea for a future education system within the present one. The roots of the problems in the existing institutions still exist, irrespective of Britain’s membership status, and those who seek to marginalise, isolate and exclude disabled people from society must be brought to account.

Miro Griffiths is a Trustee at ALLFIE and a PhD researcher and teacher at Liverpool John Moores University.

Inclusive School Health and Nutrition Programmes

Wednesday, April 15th, 2015

According to the World Health Organisation, approximately 93 million children in the world – 1 in 20 children aged 14 or younger – have a moderate or severe disability. The majority of them live in low- and middle-income countries, are not enrolled in school and have very poor access to the most basic health and nutrition opportunities. Whether it is due to poor data or a lack of knowledge and understanding, school health and nutrition (SHN) policy makers and programmers have previously struggled to visualize this group and respond effectively to their needs. These children have been left behind.

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Inclusion and Me

Wednesday, April 30th, 2014

From a young age I knew that I wanted to be in mainstream education. I didn’t like the concept of being away from home and not being with my family. That was the biggest thing I didn’t like when I was little. (more…)

Blackburn College – Further Education and Inclusion

Wednesday, October 2nd, 2013

At a recent discussion day organised by ALLFIE, a talk by Ann Harwood centred on the educational provision at Blackburn College. This is a college which OfSTED describes as ‘outstanding’.

Ann is the ‘Additional Learning Support Manager’ at Blackburn College and during her presentation, she discussed, from her perspective, how the college worked towards creating an inclusive educational provision. (more…)

Exclusion with Inclusion? How can we tell the difference?

Wednesday, September 4th, 2013

If you are reading this, my guess is that you believe in inclusive education for all children and young people, however how do we know when inclusion becomes exclusion? To achieve inclusion in an inclusive setting, is educating a child outside of the classroom necessary? When and if it happens what stops it from turning into another form of exclusion? (more…)