Archive for Uncategorized

Celebration Time

Last Thursday i passed my CIEH Professional Trainers Certificate.

Jean did better. She passed with a credit. She really deserved it. She gave an absolutely brilliant presentation on ‘Love Food Hate Waste’ which was all about making the best out of food, saving money and saving time. It was impressive stuff and put over in such a friendly way

Now its just a case of me doing more paid Disability Equality Training and Jean doing more in her chosen field of Community Food Work and Community Nutritional Advice.

It feels good to have the paper that says we know what we are doing

Leave a Comment

Chatting to a Chugger

Clara stood on the corner in her bright yellow t proclaiming Whizzkidz. She wanted me to stop and talk. or did she? Maybe she just wanted to see the colour of my money. I asked her to walk with me. I was going to a cash point within 20 meters, just a few short strides. She refused. i said stay there. I’ll be back. Just what i need – a chat with a chugger.

She was pleased i stood by word and i told her i’d heard of whizzkidz and could she tell me if it was an organisation for disabled children or of disabled children. She said ‘for’. One point against. I asked her if she knew what it meant. She said yes. 2 points against. She asked me how come i knew whizzkidz I said i work for a disabled people’s organisation. She asked me which one? We were getting on famously. I named names and she had never heard mine. It’s just a small thing Clara. A local group that some people appreciate.

She proffered me her PRFA or was it PFRA board. I couldn’t see it and I told her so. She spelt it out. i said, no i can’t see it. I can see that part, i can’t see the rest of it. She said it was her guidelines. it told her what she could do. i asked if it said she couldn’t walk with me. She said no not specifically but if she had walked with me and asked for money it could have looked like she was hassling me. So she was after my money but she didn’t want to hassle me. She was nice was Clara. Is nice is Clara.

She showed me the harassment clause and i said, no i’m sorry but i can’t see it and i am surprised that the info isn’t more accessible in any case. The points against this nice person were piling up but she continued to save herself. I’ll tell them she said and i’m sure she will.

Then she read the small print. Whizzkidz had invested £24,000 in the campaign in the hope opf returning £97,000 (must confess i haven’t got the exact figures but i know i’m close). I said what does invested mean. She hesitated. I said it means they are paying your wages and that’s ok because you are worth it aren’t you Clara and she agreed with me. She is worth it. We are all worth it.

She showed me some more of her words and pictures. I told her i couldn’t see it. She gave me the headlines. I stopped her at campaigning.

I like that i said. i like campaigning. Tell me what that one says. She told me about a 15 year old wheelchair using kid who was leading the campaign for mobility aids and she told me 70,000 kids need mobility aids. I asked her if she knew how many of those kids would be wheelchair users and if she knew if the campaign leader was being paid and how much of the £97k would be going into a 15 year olds’ pocket. She was happy to guess the number of wheelchair users but couldn’t tell me the rest. I said i think this is sad Clara. i think the kid in charge is a tokenistic figure don’t you? Is she sitting on the board? Does she have voting rights? Not necessarily. More than likely just another kid being used by a charity full of white middle class, i stopped myself from saying wankers, and got the word people out which was very very good of me. What? With my history and everything.

So i got back to asking about the words on the papers she was holding and asked her if she thought i should have the right to see them and she thought i did. In fact she was getting quite uppity about it and understanding the injustice of it all. So i asked her if she thought kids who needed mobility aids should have them as a right and she said she did. So, i said, and that’s why i won’t be giving to your charity but as you’ve been so nice to me Clara i’ll tell you what i’ll do i’ll go home and i’ll send a pound or two to Imogen May, an activist i know who needs 12k for a communication board so she can talk to other students in her class, so she can tell models what they should be doing when she goes to work as a photographer and i’ll send some quidz (oh the irony of that zed or should that be zee) to DAN. Have you heard of DAN Clara? No i haven’t Rich. We were on first name terms. They’re an unfunded organisation of disabled people, owned and controlled by disabled people, who get disabled people out and on the streets to complain about things and to stand up for rights. That’s where i think the best chance of getting the mobility aid is Clara and think that’s where we can get it as a right.

A couple of asides. Clara told me for every pound i gave if i signed this gift aid form the government would give another whopping 28%. So if i gave £10 it would be worth £12.80 which would be good but if they will do this and i presume they do it out of taxes why don’t they add a penny in the pound to taxes so we get the mobility aids as a right.

Later i saw a kid on a scooter dropping dirty tissues everywhere she went. Her mom was talking about her legs and how she might need to use a chair, poor little darling, and she couldn’t be expected to pick up the tissues and i noticed two lines of plastic running up from her shoes like a splint and i thought is this the little angels mobility aid. Wonder how much that plastic costs? Bet i’d be surprised. Bet I wouldn’t. The cost of aids is rediculous. Why doesn’t the government do something about this shifty side of rip off britain that make money out of us.

Anyway a couple of links for you. One for Imogen May
Another for DAN’s facebook page:

Leave a Comment

a great day on a social utility

I enjoyed my facebook today. My friends are doing stuff and it all became apparent.

Welcome to the disability arts circuit.

It’s a source of pride to me that i know Julie MacNamara and Liz Crow. Both have new shows on in London. You should go she them before they move on. Julie is a massive all round talent and turn her hand to most things. Liz is one of the most sly, acerbic you ever saw race you to the fire exit.

I’ve been with both on DAN actions. Its good to have them with you. Community artists lifting the spirit. I’ve also done this with Liz Crow. Liz has been one of our leaders in television production but she’s also on the fourth plinth, this saturday night, 8th August 2009 at 10 pm until 11. I’m not sure what she’ll do but its an anti genetics thing and we sure seem to need this message going out with the pro death club making decent in roads of late. Not sure what Liz is doing. Feel pretty sure it will be brave without being tragic. Pretty sure that she’s got links of videos from Nabil Shaban reminding us a) of one of his shows and b) the truth about the nazi death camps. Good viewing. Check it out.

And dig the posters below too.

Mental Health, Learning Disability, Gay days in the Care Home

Mental Health, Learning Disability, Gay days in the Care Home

Disability Arts and Culture

Disability Arts and Culture

  • The First To Go Into The Nazi Death CampsThe First To Go Into The Nazi Death Camps
  • Leave a Comment

    i was inspired last night so will start a poem now which you can edit and finish for me

    we were told we could integrate in forty eight by the creation of the welfare state
    the NHS could choose homes in the community or institutions
    well you know their resolutions and that they’re no solutions
    but like 60’s kinks who were tired of waiting we’re still waiting to be integrating
    so i’ll never get tired of stating
    don’t be slow free our people now

    Leave a Comment

    i’m special me

    Oh dear oh dear me.

    Been back in the old homelands. Been listening to… what’s that five letter word starting with S and ending in e. S***e.

    I’m sure no one thinks I’m an angel. I’m an advocate. Some people think I’m more of a devil really. But, this is it, why is it that most folk; you tell them you work with and for disabled people and they think you are devine? That you’re special.

    Mom tried to celebrate the fact that we all, she, her daughter, her grand daughter and me all ended up in the care industry. ‘Advocates against the care industry’, that would make a good slogan for me. Not actually accurate in terms of how I feel, but pretty close nonetheless.

    She continued to talk us through the care industry. All about the stuff we do for these mental people. Thanks for the language lesson like.

    My niece told us she gets smacked at work. her first smack is scheduled for 10 o’clock when someone wants his lunch and she says no. Wake up. Don’t say no. Say yes. I’m not going to tell you when to eat, so don’t tell me and don’t tell anyone else. At the far from worse say yes and then distract, say yes and organise a snack. I’m not sure what is going on here but was this kid woke up at 6 o’clock and bussed in. Has he not eaten for four hours. Investigate the course of the hunger. Don’t put yourself in the way of a smack. Smack. Whoa Who is it good for? Absolutely no one.

    And then this little classic. “I’ll take them swimming, I’ll get in the pool with them because I’m the one who does special needs swimming”. Think about it. What special needs could you possibly have when swimming. Getting into the pool, doing your thing in the pool and getting out again. The same as everybody else then. Hello. Good Morning. Wakey Wakey. Where’s the special need? It might be to have the choice not to go to the pool, it might be the right not to get in the pool if you don’t want to, it might be not to drown. Oh the same as all of us then. Why do we have to keep on listening to this nonsense about special needs.

    Ain’t no wonder someone thinks I’m an angel.

    Leave a Comment

    The courage to speak

    Ah!!! Yes!!! Advocacy!!!! it’s so simple. All you need to do is speak.

    Express a choice and tell someone what the choice is.

    Easy Peasey Lemon Squeezy.

    I think if anyone wants to know how difficult it is to speak you should go to this link right now where Dame Jane Campbell speaks out against assisted dying in the guardian; http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=97721277658&h=OrXHV&u=si-5C&ref=nf

    You should see the response. It’s largely idiotic criticism which i call tautology but i sometimes get my words wrong. What it suggests to me, or indeed what it reminds me, is sometimes you need to speak up in environments where you are likely to be damned for doing so. The constant abuse of complaints procedures to protect the guilty would be another example of this.

    Anyway, i have spoken up and you can see my response if you follow the same link to page 4

    I’m now sure that jane would like me to give you the link for Not Dead Yet which i understand she is standing down from. Hopefully we’ll have someone who can take up the reins.

    Leave a Comment

    The Magic Wand

    Icebreakers, Warm Ups anyone?
    As my partner develops as a community nutrition adviser so it is she becomes more enthusiastic about being a trainer and using training techniques. She bought home a cracker the other day. The Magic Garden. If you could put your favourite food in the magic garden what would you put in it? And so discussion ensues. She liked that one and nicked it. I liked it and nicked it too but had to make it fit to what i was doing and so the magic wand.
    I stood in front of the magic circle of trainees and held up a transparent plastic ruler asking me if anyone could tell me what it was. The obvious answer a ruler was returned straight away. Other descriptions ensued. No one guessed that it was a magic wand and it had the powers to put something into society or to take things out. I used it as an introduction to the social model of disability and passed it to the trainees and this is what they identified as something to add or subtract. You can give your own plus and minus signs on reading this list.

    A planet with 6.6 billion people living in peace.
    War
    Conflict
    Negativity
    Lies
    Dialogue
    Openness
    Positivity
    Truth
    Listeners
    Ideas
    Killing Animals
    Intoxication
    Prejudice
    Tolerance
    Gambling
    Illicit Sex
    Open Mindedness
    Passion
    A chance to work
    Better benefits
    A chance to work and benefits
    Austerity
    No bicycles on pavements
    Merciful
    Cleanliness
    Hate
    Love
    Opportunities
    Teaching
    Hate Crime
    Discrimination
    Equality

    Did this work as a warm up to the social model? What do you think?

    Me. I found it interesting what came from the trainees. I know them better than you do. I know the man of faith, i know the self advocate, i know the solicitor, the DJ and the advocates. I can see them in the answers that they gave.

    It interests me that we talk about hate, lies, negativity, bikes on pavements, the benefit trap that keeps us out of work. This is our experience. It interests me that we know the language that describes the opposites that we desire.

    Leave a Comment

    Walking Backwards

    From a window a Beeman tends his hive in rigid vane form, sentinely marking the start and in turn the stinging end.
    And I think of you. I call your name for rhyme only Louise. A book of flowers, a book of trees to please Louise with tales of all these things I’ve seen from C35 to C37 and further and back as i tramped alone to my minds romantic hill. My romantic hill is beautiful its true with its banks of yellow and odd purple blooms. Mysterious too. Hidden amongst its statuesque copse wherein man sat in front of fire in uncanvassed tepee by unattended silent, still swings that wait for winds before they swing again. But romantic? Without you? How romantic?
    As romantic as Elaine Daniels? 74 in 91 and Bill Pearse 79 who died within a year of his spouses demise? His bride when both of Dulwich, who kept her name bravely for their mutual year of marriage. 40. Makes you think. Makes you think who they were, what they did, where they walked in this green and pleasant land they loved so well. It makes you think too if it would be braver to take another name at that time with the death’s, they missed then, a given. Would it have been braver to retain the name as the crewmen and gunners did before crashing in this place but two years on from 40. Mottling this sacred landscape with a new mausaleum amongst the grass and rape.
    And i sit again and i write again and i think of you, the events that bought me here. As written on stone, as etched in tin, iron ore other so that it reads at the going down of the sun, when it ends and in the morning when it starts we will remember each and every one of them

    Leave a Comment

    A Canal Cannodling

    Cornelius Charles Spillane lived to 86. Died in 2007. Remembered fondly as a true country gentleman.

    Audrey Collins like Richard and Winifred Knight who would have been better alliteratively as Wright sat and enjoyed similar though different views.

    Rosie the dog had her last walkies here.

    Dr Ruth Dawkins supported but not supported the sending of a white feather to me as a reminder of the need for courage.

    It may have come from the green headed, black bodied, white fronted Duck whose name i dare to discover one day but its my guess that it may have been delivered by the moorhen whose red face glowed terribly scarlet in the afternoon sun. Remember

    Comments (1)

    Down Devil Den

    Parked opposite Fyfield Hill, walked west to Piggle Dene, walked north through sarsen stone paying silent witness to grey wethers, marked by time and mason, mostly sleeping though some upright standing, watching over white faced lambs. A vista of sheep retreating on green hills guarded by trees, naked to the sky from distance.

    The path to Totterdown becoming farm road at the barn and broken style. A pub name, Who’d Have Thought It. I climb up the hill to reach the top, to look down at the houses around North Farm. the river and someone elses church.

    I mark my first summer swallow, a martin and at the bridge where Kennet bends, a place with trees to photo, I scorn a coot for walking that way.

    Back to Fyfield I smell a plant that stinks of sewer and recall a day when my botany was so much better. Before the age of school cap.

    All this a mistaken walk to Devizes’s Dolmen, the Devil’s Den, a sight i have to map read for. Up and Down i go again having first eaten Peter’s Good Life Bistro Sandwich, cheese, rocket, olive. Yum Yum.

    I loved this walk. I loved it. Though feeling hampered in the groin. The greeness. The knowledge of knowing what i might find should i be able to recall the reading from the map i left behind.

    A slight detour to take advantage of a given height and there it stands behind me, Satan’s tenement, a testament to his taste; towering, reaching taller the closer i approach it. Cautiously, just in case, i walk three times widdershins around it, dizzy, dizzily dumbly counting, hoping i could add. Sitting easter bun eating on its fingers, i crawl beneath his oh so athletic torso, before standing on his toes, wondering all the time why Beelzebub would make this paradise his home.

    I venture back, striding across the bottom, Clatford by nomenclature. A deer hops the track before me, shaking its white bum, leaving hoof prints on the red earth, like magic before disappearing.

    Back along my favourite road, a new pretty bridge appears aside the stream, a secret footpath to a church by a gate, festooned in crosses in memoriam to those given to bravely falling.

    I sit, I write, i think of ice cream, i think of Christ. I consider the difference fleetingly (the devil has a nicer house which is always mnuch more open) and turn off to the cafe wishing i had a camera.

    Comments (2)

    Older Posts »