Clutching at straws

When I started this blog I felt optimistic about the title I chose. I felt energised and able to contribute in a small way to improving dignity and life chances not only for my daughter but also for other children with disabilities. After all, a huge amount has been achieved in recent decades by and for people who have an uphill struggle just to get on the starting blocks in the great competition of life. It's only a generation since disabled children were routinely taken from their families and kept in residential institutions, and on another, but related, subject it's not long since we were fighting one another in Europe. We kid ourselves if we think we can never go back to those days.

It really all comes down to the language we use to describe people. When we use words like vulnerable and disabled we are minded to be caring, perhaps because deep down we know that this might one day be us or somebody we love. When words like claimant, welfare spend, scrounger, fraud are used a lot we feel resentful and can distance ourselves, thinking only of the impact on the taxes we pay as a result of this supposed waste of our hard-earned money. On a more severe scale, attrocities such as the holocaust and apartheid (we've looked at the history of these in Lent talks at our church) were supported by large numbers of otherwise caring people because they were able to think of other groups as wicked and dangerous.

Right now the word equality feels like it's gone out of fashion. It's feels a bit passé and slightly embarrassing to be banging on this old drum. We've done with that now and moved on, haven't we?

This week I've been out and about as usual with friends, colleagues and other parents and have done my best to hide the cracks in my smiling mask. I feel like I should re-label my blog "clutching at straws" because there seems to be no cause for optimism in the public discourse.

And yet, the sun is starting to shine, the flower buds are forming, nests are being built once again, and Easter with its profound message of new life and hope in the face of apparent failure is almost upon us. I must look away from public rhetoric and look instead for the beauty in each day, I must steer my thoughts to the abundant generosity and kindness of family, friends, staff and volunteers that support us week by week.

And it is up to me to carry on working to make sure our beautiful girl is as physically strong, emotionally intelligent, academically able and self-confident as she can possibly be to tackle the challenges and set-backs that life will throw at her. I want her to realise her ambitions to offer care and support to others. Indeed I want exactly the same things for my son, who has been lucky enough to be given a head start right now, but who knows what tomorrow will bring?  And actually I want the same for all of the other beautiful and disabled children and young adults, full of potential and patience, that I have the privilege to know.

So please bear with me for the moment until I get the energy and motivation back to continue with the fight.