Category Archives: Uncategorized

Young, free and single-minded

Young people who have helped transform their neighbourhoods despite are among those being celebrated in today’s Prince’s Trust annual awards.

Amid recent figures showing youth unemployment has nearly hit 1m, it is inspiring to hear how teenagers and young adults are determinedly pursuing work, training or volunteering, despite the kinds of experiences that would lead some to write them off as “hard to reach”.

The trust’s Celebrate Success event honours young people who, supported by one of the trust’s many programmes, have overcome challenges like homelessness or unemployment to make a difference to their communities or to the lives of others.

The community impact award in particular (there are various categories in today’s awards) recognises how young people around the country have breathed new life into a neglected area of a block of flats, launched a support scheme for young carers and turned a disused part of a children’s centre into a a play space. While their projects might not have led all of them into full-time employment, many are on a more secure path to independence.

Young people in Glasgow transformed a disused space (photo: Prince's Trust)
Young people in Glasgow transformed a disused space in Helenvale Flats (photo: Prince’s Trust)

A group of eight unemployed young people, supported by the Prince’s Trust Get Started programme, revitalised an area in a block of flats in the deprived east end of Glasgow. They created flower beds and benches, built a willow hut for children to play in and sprayed a giant snakes and ladders board on the ground.

The Caring Alone project helps support young carers.
The Caring Alone project helps support young carers.

Steven Bland was among the four young carers who created the Liverpool-based Caring Alone Support Service, backed by a cash award from the trust, for a Community Cash Award. They matched the funding with support from other organisations launched the online support support for young carers, offering advice and a forum for information exchange.

A team of young people from Birmingham helped improve Fox Hollies children's centre .
A team of young people from Birmingham helped improve Fox Hollies children’s centre .

While participating in the Prince’s Trust Team programme, 10 young people made a disused outdoor space at the Fox Hollies children’s centre in Birmingham into a beach play area. They raised the cash through donations from local businesses and activities including bag packs and car washes.

A different perspective on learning disability

Unknown-5

A stereotype-shattering art project, which uses photography to counter negative mainstream attitudes towards people with Down’s syndrome, is showcasing the last eight years of its work.

Unknown-2

Unknown-6

Shifting Perspectives Photographic Exhibition 2005 – 2013 is at the South Bank in London until Sunday (31 March) and aims to portray people with the learning disability as individuals, rather than people with a specific syndrome. Carol Boys, chief executive of the Down’s Syndrome Association, believe that the project has shown how people with Down’s syndrome have “the same hopes and dreams as everyone else”.

Unknown-1

Down’s syndrome is a genetic condition caused by the presence of an extra chromosome and affects one in every 1,000 babies; there are around 60,000 people with the condition in the UK.

The small group of photographers whose work forms the exhibition all have experience of having had children with Down’s syndrome; the collective came together 10 years ago to create a series of works for Down’s Syndrome Awareness Week (this year’s awareness week ended yesterday).

George_DSC0969_fianlPS

Among the photographers involved in the ongoing project is Kayte Brimacombe, who documents social issues and whose previous images for the awareness week can be viewed here.

The art and awareness project has toured the UK and Ireland since then, visiting seven different countries. This week’s show reflects the body of work created so far and coincides with a special book marking the work created so far.

A wider range of images can be seen on the project website and admission to the show is free. It’s open from 11am – 6pm until Sunday 31 at the gallery@oxo and Bargehouse.

Unknown

ccok

Unknown-3

“People who have a learning disability have the right to good services, choices and a good life”

If only more people had the chance to develop in confidence like Laura Minett.

Laura, who I interviewed for a Guardian social care piece today, works as an expert by experience. Her part-time role through the charity which supports her, Choice Support, means monitoring and inspecting social care services on behalf of social care watchdog the Care Quality Commission. The self-assurance she has developed thanks to the job means that when I misspelt her surname during our interview, she politely – but firmly – asked for my pen so that she could write it out for me herself.

Laura, who has a learning disability, told me she is driven by helping improve support for people who may be less independent than her. As she says in today’s piece in the Guardian: “I like getting out and about meeting people and thinking ‘maybe that’s good maybe that’s bad’. I like having a job and talking to the service users – it’s about their quality of life.”

The views of people who use social and health care services are so often not taken into account, something which a major inquiry into health treatment of people with learning disabilities found this week. Involving people who use services in improving the health and social care sector is vital, but so often consultation is nothing more than lip service.

Not so with the experts programme it seems. Another expert I met, Laura Broughton, stressed that paid work and the recognition that her opinion is valuable has made a huge difference to her life. Both the experts explained they have spotted things that could be improved in residential care (simple things, even, like offering people a better choice of food and drink) and told me that individuals in care tell them their concerns or wishes much more freely than they would a professional or full-time inspector without their personal experience.

Laura Broughton volunteering at London 2012
Laura Broughton volunteering at London 2012

She has been an expert for just two years, but already speaks in public and to social care professionals about her role. She walked into our meeting relaxed and confident. “I was quite different before doing this,” Laura told me. “I’d never had job before, certainly not in offices, I was more shy. Now I’ve done the experts work, Choice Support is getting me involved in slightly different things as well. I’m training [Choice Support staff and CQC inspectors] and have done presentations and workshops. It’s exciting…I’m travelling quite a lot and getting to know the country.”

Here is some more from the two experts in their own words, which both women previously shared on the CQC and Choice Support websites.

Laura Minett
Laura Minett
Laura Minett: “If someone said, “What is an expert by experience?” I would answer that I am a person who has a disability and who has first hand experience of using services provided by both health providers and social care providers. I use my experience to talk to others to find out what they think about the care they are getting and if it is good enough for each individual using the service.
I work with different inspectors and have already visited lots of different services like hospitals, a residential college, care homes, assessment and treatment units and secure units. I have recently been part of inspection teams involved in the National Review of Learning Disability services.
My main job is to find out about people’s experiences of the care they receive. The inspector tells me which of the 16 outcomes I need to prepare questions on to ask on the inspection. We arrange a meeting time for the day and go to the service unannounced. This means the provider doesn’t know we are coming. I use my experience to find out what they think about the care they are getting and if it is good enough for each individual using the service.”

Laura Broughton
Laura Broughton
Laura Broughton: “Being part of this review was a good experience for me. It gave me the experience of what it is really like for other people who have a learning disability. What happened at Winterbourne View was terrible and should have never happened.
Working as part of a team with inspectors was exciting. The work was exciting but difficult too. Sometimes some of the places I visited were not pleasing , they were challenging.
Some of the people I met should have more help in getting a better life. They were often bored and distressed and staff talked to them not as adults but as though they were children. Some of the people weren’t treated as individuals and certainly not in a person centred way. I felt some people didn’t get the opportunities they should have because they couldn’t speak or because others felt their behaviour was challenging.
It was good for me because I’m now a lot more confident, I’ve got a paid job as an Expert by Experience. Having a paid job is new for me as it is with a lot of people who have a learning difficulty.
I have a voice and I was able to help other people living in these services to have a voice.
I hope things will change. All people who have a learning disability have the right to good safe services, choices and a good life.”

“I am valuable. I can still shine and I will still go on”

Gold, from Bound, Anthony David King and Samona Naomi Williams
‘Gold’, from Bound, Anthony David King and Samona Naomi Williams

Huge lashes sweeping over her eyelids, face framed by diamante and skin shining gold, this is a photographic portrayal of how Samona Naomi Williams feels some days: valuable, not a burden to society.

Yet Samona, a wheelchair user who Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (EDS) type 3 which, amongst other things, affects her mobility, also has days where she feels trapped by her condition, vulnerable and delicate. Outwardly, on some days, she may show little sign of her disability. This is reflected in a portrait where she is bound to her chair with tape emblazoned with the word ‘fragile’.

Fragile, from Bound, by Anthony David King and Samona Naomi Williams
‘Fragile’, from Bound, by Anthony David King and Samona Naomi Williams

Then there are times, she recalls, referring to a shot of her on a mattress strewn with medication, that her bed is a “marshmallow prison”: “There is no rest for me here. Yet I’m tied to it. I’m bound to it. There’s nothing sexy about being bed bound, though I wish to see it differently.”

Bed, from Bound, Anthony David King and Samona Naomi Williams
‘Bed’, from Bound, Anthony David King and Samona Naomi Williams

Samona has turned her experience of disability into an art project, Bound, documenting her story with photographer friend Anthony David King. The pair recently exhibited the works at the Brick Gallery in east London and the pieces are available to view online at Saatchi with an exhibition tour of London planned for later this year.

Until her diagnosis in 2009, Samona was a TV, music video and film producer, producing and directing a short film screened at Cannes. With her condition, she felt she had “nothing to give”: “I was just this ‘disabled person’. I cannot write, I cannot do my films, I cannot work – that’s when Anthony and I sat down and had a discussion about what can I do to use to use my skills and illness. We came up with photographic project which we could make work around my disability.”

Anthony, who met Samona as a student, adds: “When she became ill, the impact on me as a friend, seeing her go through this…I could see she felt she didn’t have much to offer. We decided to do something together, an opportunity to do something not just for her but to tell her story that may be encouraging to others, looking at ways we could express her experiences.”

Samona’s condition means that everyday tasks – taking a shower or making a cup of tea – can be difficult. She uses a wheelchair when she goes out due to weakness, dizziness, a heart condition and pain when she walks. She often suffers fortnight long “crashes” where she remains in bed, exhausted and in pain. She describes these episodes as “being crushed by bricks”.

Yet the images are bold and provocative – Bed and Gold, for example, portray an attractive woman. Samona adds: “I may be sitting there [in bed or in the wheelchair], but in my head, I’m imagining something else, a feeling of fantasty. I was keen to get away from any stereotypical views that are out there; this is something that we don’t talk about – I’m still a woman…I know lot of people living with illness and we can infiltrate popular culture and can present beautiful images.

“Disability in the media is about benefit culture, it’s a negative thing, and also a lot of the time I feel people [without disabilities] cannot relate to disabled people, they have one of two reactions – they look away or they overcompensate. But we are just normal people who have an illness – it does not change you as person. I can’t get up every morning and do my hair but it doesn’t take away the desire to be who I am and who I was before. We all suffer from some kind of weakness and vulnerability; some wear it on the outside and some on the inside.”

The project, says Samona, also stemmed from a desire to draw attention to the lack of support for disabled people and how the current welfare reforms are a threat to vulnerable people.

Samona, who has home care, adds: “It is important, especially after the Paralympics, to keep attention on disability – not say ‘well, the Paralympics was a positive thing, and now let’s move on’…we are not miserable people who don’t want to work and who are in chairs and who are a burden on society.” She worries about the government cuts. “Of course they pick on the most vulnerable members of society, most disabled people are suffering.. it’s difficult to get out of bed some days, let alone write a letter to make a complaint. They kick you while you’re down.”

The artists stress that their exhibition portrays the the challenging side of Samona’s experience, but has a positive message. “The full set of images we shot try to keep a balance of reality – so the truth is that there are great moments and we tried to show that in images like Gold, Samona still has something to offer, still a valuable person,” says Anthony.

Samona explains the story behind the shots above:

Gold:
“When I realised that I wasn’t going to recover easily, quickly or perhaps not at all from this illness, I didn’t know what to do. I had so many dreams and goals and suddenly it felt as if I would no longer be an asset to this world. I was going to be a burden. A burden to my family, a burden to society, incapable of contributing anything to anyone. I sat and contemplated this new existence, I felt completely worthless and couldn’t really see the point of carrying on, I may as well end it, I thought. However the caterpillar struggles through its cocoon before it can become a butterfly and a rock undergoes immense pressure before it becomes a diamond. I slowly began to see this illness as less of a torment and more of a metamorphosis, a struggle into something greater than I was before. I saw my worth in a different way. I could still contribute to my family and I still have so much to give to society. How? By allowing myself to be me regardless of this illness and realising that rather than being worthless, I am worth more than ever before. I am valuable. I can still shine and I will still go on.”

Fragile:
“I sometimes wish I were wearing this fragile warning tape when I go out in the wheelchair so that people would heed the signage and treat me delicately. Being in a wheelchair means you are exposed and on show and people often have reactions, judgments and lack consideration. They may see you as an inconvenience or worst still behave like they don’t see you in a clumsy and nervous fashion. In my case, people behave confused ‘what exactly is wrong with her’. I see their questioning and it feels almost accusing sometimes, ‘You’re not really disabled.’ ‘You don’t look ill’. Imagine how that makes me feel. The physical pain is enough but this is coupled with emotional pain whenever I go out. I feel the need to explain, ‘Hey, I might look ok but I’m suffering every day’. I am broken physically and mentally and I wish people would understand. It would be easier if I could just wear the tape.”

Bed:
“I have found a new relationship with my bed. It’s like a marshmallow prison, necessary, uncomfortable, restricting and binding. It’s where I spend most of my time, in complete agony and pain. I feel restless, unable to sleep and too weak to stay awake. It’s a mind- numbing, agonizing, maddening experience being unable to move from the bed. Despite its billows of softness, feathered stage and relaxing countenance, it is not the pleasure pen that I wish it could be. There is no rest for me here. Yet I’m tied to it. I’m bound to it. There’s nothing sexy about being bed bound, though I wish to see it differently.”

* See the Bound website for more information or find Anthony and Samona on Twitter

Older, wiser..and off the radar?

How old does a woman have to be to be categorized as “older”? 50? 70? And if we push females deemed to be “older women”, in “late adulthood” or in “advanced years” into the same group, what common concerns do they share, if any? More importantly, does anyone outside of that demographic notice or care about ageing women? And if they do – what’s being done about the issues they’re concerned about?

While Britain as an ageing society is a constant source of political and public debate, the specific issue of women and ageing isn’t afforded the focus it should, given that women tend to live longer than men. The 2011 census suggests there are about 11 million women over the age of 50 years, about 4 million of which are over 70 years. By 2035 there will be 4 million more females aged 65+ than under 16s.

Like most people, my personal experience – and I speak from the start of my fourth decade – is that the older you get, the younger so-called “older people” seem. As you age, your perceptions of old and young clearly shift. I don’t, for example, class my friends in their 50s as “old” and my own 81-year-old mother-in-law defies stereotypes and expected patterns of behaviour with her far flung travels to South America and her energetic role as a breeder of rare sheep.

The youth/age picture becomes confused still when you think that childhood apparently ends at 12, younger girls are presented (and sometimes present themselves) as much older while older women – think Madonna, Helen Mirren – are variously praised or mocked. And more often than not, the kind of articles I’m thinking of include a particular kind of faux-praise for a woman’s age-defying antics and appearances…you know what I mean – the pieces that comment on a woman’s “confidence” (ie delusion) in “flaunting” (as in “she’s too old to dress/act like that”) her “mature” (read: “wrinkly, untoned”) figure.

A provocative series of essays published today, coinciding with International Women’s Day, highlights policy issues about ageing women, underlining how the contribution to and role of older women in society is overlooked.

The think tank the International Centre for Longevity (ILC-UK) publication Has the sisterhood forgotten older women? contains 38 essays – everything from personal recollections about the role of women in family and society, to thoughts on intimacy and relationships, the invisibility of older women in international development and opinions about the low media profile of older women (see the words of an older female MP on how she is treated by political parties in relation to media work).

The authors include politicians, policy makers, academics and campaigners such as Jane Ashcroft, chief executive of housing and care group Anchor, Sheila Gilmore MP, Michelle Mitchell, chief executive of Age UK, Heléna Herklots from Carers UK and Marina Yannakoudakis MEP.

As well as discussions about how far women in their 50s 60s 70s think of themselves as “old” (answer: they don’t), the collection of writing stresses the dilemma facing older women – while longevity is to be celebrated “there is a risk that women, who often live longer than men, do so at the risk of being caught in the metaphorical mouse trap: alive but with little quality of life”.

The ILC-UK has also today announced it is establishing an Older Women’s Policy and Research Action Alliance to create “a roadmap for future research and policy priorities”. The organisation hopes today’s compedium will spark a new debate on women in an ageing society.

The issue of the challenge for ageing women in care is a particularly strong theme in today’s collection of essays. In the UK, women account for two thirds of community care users over the age of 65, and three quarters of people in residential care.

Baroness Sally Greengross, chief executive of the ILC-UK added: “Women must engage in the debate on social care funding if we are to get a solution which works for all. It is also essential that the caring contributions of older women are not ignored. Future care reform must take account of and not disincentivise the informal care contribution of older women.”

Here are just three edited highlights from among the pieces in today’s publication:

Oh, I didn’t see you there!
Jane Ashcroft, chief executive, Anchor
:
“For several years I have been irritated by the propensity of print journalists to tell us the age of any woman in the news, regardless of any relevance to the story, while rarely applying the same approach to men. Why is age a defining characteristic of women?

In 2010, research conducted on behalf of Anchor, the housing and care provider which I lead, analysed one week of TV programmes on the 5 major UK channels (Older Faces Audit, March 2010, Anchor). We found a dramatic under-representation of older people, and especially older women. Across all channels, people over 50 were under–represented. Despite making up 34% of the UK population, representation on the major channels was as low as 12%, with only BBC2 achieving a realistic level of 38%. And amongst TV presenters appearing in the week under review, only 1 in 5 was an older woman.

This supports my view that ageing in men is often seen more positively than in women – many older men are described as wise and experienced, whereas the expression “don’t be such an old woman” is used to convey entirely negative characteristics.

This picture is so different from the reality that I see in my everyday life, that it is tempting to wonder if I live in a parallel universe! Of my 9,000 or so colleagues in Anchor, over 500 are continuing to enjoy their work well past the official “retirement age”.

Behind the scenes, many older women are leading change in communities, organisations and families, contributing their resources and multitude of skills, and leading interesting and rewarding lives. Some older women, like older men, are facing loneliness, loss and poor health. As a society, and for ourselves, don’t we need to recognise every older woman as an individual, and to enable us to do that we need to improve visibility – instead of “oh, I didn’t see you there” can we say “ah, I’ve been looking for you”?

Older women and care: are they invisible to the sisterhood?
Michelle Mitchell, Age UK:

“Despite care having been on the feminist agenda for years, the issue of it in later life has remained shrouded from our viewpoint, as millions struggle in quiet crisis. Yet nowhere are the compound challenges of class, gender and age more evident and nowhere are older women more in need of a voice.”

Older women carers – invisible and ignored?
Heléna Herklots, chief executive, Carers UK:

“Many older women carers grew up during a time when women’s contribution to society was far less recognised than it is today. They now live in a society which too often ignores their contribution as older women carers. We need to challenge this; guard against any prejudices and assumptions we may ourselves have; and work to ensure that older women carers are recognised, respected, and valued – no longer invisible and ignored.”

*Download ILC-UK’s Has the sisterhood forgotten older women? here

Pertti, punk and pedicures

Pertti Kurikka's Name Day, a film about punk rockers with attitude
Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day, a film about punk rockers with attitude

“I need a little respect and equality in my life”

“Decision-makers are cheaters, they suck..they don’t give a sh*t about us disabled”

“I don’t want to live in a group home, I don’t want to live in an institution”

“They make promises in Parliament and break them every day”

Not the words from a campaign against welfare cuts or disability rights, but lyrics from a Finnish punk band whose learning disabled members star in a new film and are about to embark on a UK tour.

The Punk Syndrome, already being shown in selected cinemas and out on DVD next month, is a documentary about the band Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day (see the trailer with subtitles at the end of this post).

The documentary by filmmakers Jukka Kärkkäinen and J-P Passi follows the members – Pertti Kurikka on guitar, Kari Aalto, vocals, Sami Helle on bass and drummer Toni Välitalo – as they record, fight, find love and gradual fame. Guitarist Pertti, who lends his name to the group, composes the music and writes the lyrics with vocalist Kari. The band members’ learning disabilities include Down’s syndrome and autism.

Kari, left, and Pertti
Kari, left, and Pertti

The film bills itself as painting a “frank, edgy and funny portrait of the individual band members” and you can believe the hype; this is one film that does what it says on the tin.

It is warm, refreshingly raw, poignant and laugh-out-loud funny. Watch out for some awkward issues around personal hygiene, a comically honest complaint from one musician to another that the music he’s writing is, well, a little too difficult to play, and an al fresco gig in a shopping area where the audience, pensioners included, is encouraged to “wave your hands in the air like you don’t give a f..”.

This isn’t a portrait of vulnerable people undergoing music therapy (although, even the band originated through music therapy workshops, does it matter if the end result brings their story and their experiences as adults with learning disabilities to light?) but charts the bust ups and the brotherly respect between the musicians (although there’s more of the former than the latter).

My favourite song? The one about one band member’s trip to the pedicurist, a regular event that inspires an angry song. On one level a darkly comic diatribe against yet another appointment that has to be kept, on another, a spitting rage against a lack of choice and control; being forced to do things you don’t really want to do at times when you don’t really want to do them.

Pertti and his band members
Pertti and his band members

The band was formed in 2009 in a workshop arranged by Lyhty, a non-profit organization that provides housing and education services. The group came together on punk fan Pertti’s name day [the tradition of celebrating the day associated with your given name] the band’s name was born. Pertti won the silver medal in the Nordic countries’ street organ championships in 2008.

As for Pertti’s fellow musicians, Kari is into motorcycles and has a girlfriend who he one days hopes to move in with. He hates group residential living, a sentiment he puts into his lyrics: “I live in a group home in Töölö, but I don’t like it because the area is too quiet. People in Kallio are nicer and there are record stores and bars.” As he says in the film: “Everyone has the right to make a decision about where and how they would like to live.”

Bass player Sami, a volunteer campaigner with the political party he supports, lives in the same group home as Kari. Toni lives with his parents who want him to move into group living, but he wants to stay at home.

Pertti, who describes touring as “terribly lovely” says he has been surprised “to see how many people dig us and say ‘Hey, that band plays damn well.’ We played a gig and they really liked our band.”

If anything, I’d have liked to have known more about their families, a bit more about the process that brought them together, but that would have been a different film. Cinematographer J-P Passi, has said of the documentary: “I hope that our film will show people that these people shouldn’t be though of as defective or inadequate, but rather as individual and complete human beings. I’d like the audience to see them as people who lack certain knowledge and skills but also lack the ability to act destructively against other people.”

To borrow Pertti’s words when he describes his band, this is one “kick-ass” documentary.

* The film is playing in selected venues, see the list of screenings here.

* If Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day and the film are of interest, then check out Stay Up Late, founded by the band Heavy Load. The Brighton charity brings disability arts to the mainstream and advocates for the rights of people to lead the lives they want to. Stay Up Late’s gig buddies scheme, for example, gets people with and without learning disabilities going to gigs together through a love of the same music. You can also check out this link to a documentary about Heavy Load.

Comment is free

Hello all, briefly highlighting my words posted in the comments thread under my Guardian interview last week with the Muslim mayor of Tower Hamlets council, Lutfur Rahman.

I’m re-posting my comment here for clarity given there were around 140 responses last time I looked.

Thanks if you’ve read and commented on this piece. As many of you know, it’s written for the SocietyGuardian interview slot, which has a particular format and tone and if it was an investigation or piece of long-form journalism, it would have been tagged as such. 
The aim, mentioned early on, is to push aside the mutual mudslinging, hype and hate, and look specifically at whether or not aspects of the latest budget stack up long term – essentially, can the council balance its books? The piece doesn’t set out to repeat or re–explore the well–documented allegations and criticisms which are available to read in other places:
‘Is it time that Tower Hamlets, a political morass and England’s third most deprived authority where half the 250,000 residents are from black and minority ethnic (BME) backgrounds, mostly Bangladeshi, be looked at afresh?’
While it’s not possible to include or analyse every element of spending or cuts in 1200 words, the piece ultimately disputes Rahman’s claim of fireproofing the frontline and his divisive nature, outlined at the start, is reflected by many of the responses here
.”

Here’s a comment from my editor in the same thread:
As the editor of the Society section I commissioned Saba to interview Lutfur Rahman, about the plans he had in place to try to protect public services in Tower Hamlets from huge spending cuts. He seemed to be taking a very different approach to councils such as Newcastle, whose leader we profiled a couple of weeks earlier. The interview was intended to explore Rahman’s approach by giving him a chance to put his case and to assess whether or not his plans were viable.
I appreciated that he is a divisive figure for various reasons outlined in the interview – such as alleged links to Islamic fundamentalist groups which he has has repeatedly and categorically denied – but the purpose of the interview was not to focus on this aspect of his leadership which has been the subject of TV documentaries and countless column inches, but to focus on his policy initiatives. I feel that it achieved this, as some of you have acknowledged in your comments
.”

If you’re interested in reading more, try this, on the Telegraph website, which leads on from the comments thread and outlines issues not included in the Guardian piece. These issues weren’t included for the reasons stated in the piece itself and in the two responses above.

More background, history, facts, detail as well as conjecture from all parties involved – journalists, commentators, residents, Rahman’s supporters, his opponents and politicians of all hues – is easily found via a quick Google search.

Finally, there are a couple of links here and here (specifically the section marked footnote on the second link) by other writers who have felt compelled to clarify their reporting of and interviews with Rahman.

Happy reading!

Cuts and controversy in Tower Hamlets

Lutfur Rahman’s name is usually prefixed with the word “controversial”. It is an apt description of the first directly elected mayor of Tower Hamlets, in east London. He is the council’s ex-Labour leader turned independent mayoral candidate who won 2010’s election amid political intrigue, mudslinging and alleged links to Islamic fundamentalist groups – allegations he has repeatedly and categorically denied. His win, with 51% of the vote, handed Britain its first Muslim and Bangladesh-born executive mayor and the Labour party an intractable gulf between national leadership and grassroots activism. The rest of my piece is on the Guardian’s Society page.

Panto and parity

Happy New Year – and seeing as we’ve just had panto season (oh yes we have – sorry, couldn’t resist) here’s one fairy tale I wish would come true: Once upon a time, in a land far away, people who have a learning disability face don’t face discrimination, prejudice and abuse.

In reality over the last few weeks alone there have been comments from a former UKIP candidate that that mothers carrying foetuses with Downs syndrome or spina bifida should be forced to have abortions and someone from Mensa (the organisation for intelligent people) making what I can only describe as an unintelligent comment describing people with low IQs as “carrots”.

While my fairy tale sounds far fetched, there is at least a happy story emerging in the theatre sector, where venues and theatre groups are trying to be more inclusive of “non-mainstream” audiences.

Although theatre arts have long and well-documented therapeutic links to learning disability, what’s often lacking is understanding on the part of audiences and venues, as has been reported and and as I’ve had the personal misfortune to find out.

Which brings me back to panto, the latest theatrical genre to benefit from the burgeoning growth of the relaxed performance (see my last post on this back in October ).

You’d have thought that the slapstick shows, with their badwy humour, audience participation and rolling-about-it-the-aisles atmosphere is just about as informal a theatre experience as you can get, but even pantos can do with a more understading attitude to audiences that are different. Not only that, but often the noisy environment of panto is a huge challenge for people with sensory issues – you might want to take part in the family experience, but need time out to gather yourself if you feel overwhelmed.

Relaxed performances are aimed at families with children with autism or learning disability. There’s a more relaxed attitude to noise in the auditorium (staff receive training from the National Autistic Society) and before the show, audience members get detailed information and photos or might attend a “familiarisation meeting” in the theatre and make use of a chill-out zone during the performance.

Ambassador Theatre Group (ATG) announced pilot plans for relaxed pantomimes last year. Hopefully ATG will judge the scheme to have been a success and will embark on a relaxed panto performance at one of its West End theatres later this year.

My sister Raana had a great panto experience recently – it wasn’t because of the show itself, or because it was a relaxed performance (it wasn’t) but it because of how she was treated outside the auditorium, not just in it. A “relaxed performer” and understanding and accommodating staff, in fact, made all the difference.

My mum took Raana to see her hero, singer Noel Sullivan (onetime member of reality TV pop group Hear’Say) peform in panto at the Hawth Theatre, Crawley. Raana was desperate to meet him; for 10 years or so she has listened to his songs, watched him on YouTube, seen his shows, always talked about meeting him but never quite plucked up the nerve to try, even after waiting backstage after a show.

She had a stage door opportunity once but bottled out at the last minute – as our teenybop hero turned musical theatre performer emerged from the exit, off Raans scampered down the road, leaving my 60-year-old mother brandishing a mug as a gift and an awkward smile.

But, hey presto, the long-awaited meeting finally happened in December, thanks to some understanding members of staff who accommodated her request (replying promptly and sensitively to my mother’s telephone calls) – and to an understanding performer who gave his time to a painfully shy, awestruck, silent, nervous, overexcited fan just minutes before the curtain went up. Her wish was granted and she was incredibly proud of “her moment”.

My sis surely isn't going to meet her idol in panto? Oh yes she is!
My sis surely isn’t going to meet her idol in panto? Oh yes she is!

This time, despite the palpable anxiety, fidgeting and refusal to eat (nerves) she actually managed to meet him. As usual, my mother was prepared for her daughter to feel so overwhelmed that she’d throw up – despite this being something Raana desperately wanted to do. But it speaks volumes for my sister’s determination and self-possession that she waited patiently to meet him (I know we’re not quite talking about an audience with the Pope but with a man in pancake make up in Crawley – but the fact is she had this dream, and it was fulfilled).

Relaxed performer: panto fan Raana backstage with Aladdin, aka Noel Sullivan.
Relaxed performer: panto fan Raana meets Aladdin, aka Noel Sullivan.

Even weeks later, she is still buzzing from the experience, still mentioning to anyone who’ll listen (actually, even if they don’t listen) that she’s met her idol, still waving around her laminated (yes, for posterity) A4 colour copy of the photo of Noel posing with her.

This was, undoubtedly, her equivalent of Mission to Lars – only not quite as transatlantic, nor epic in scope, arduous in execution nor indeed as hardcore musically (just as well; I’m struggling to picture my mother at a metal gig).

This is what she said immediately afterwards (thanks to my leg man of a mum for taking down her verbatim words afterwards): “I met the biggest star in the world – couldn’t believe it was him! I got two big hugs from him and he posed for two photos with me. I was very happy to meet him. He is still my favourite!” (By the by, she is now planning her next meeting with him, rather than treating this as a one-off miracle, it’s boosted her confidence in the theory that her dreams can come true).

While the theatre in Crawley isn’t part of the relaxed performance scheme, general manager Dave Whatmore says that if someone needs a carer or companion – through having a visual impairment, learning disability or using a wheelchair – ticket concessions are available.

He adds: “Over the years staff have received training courses to raise their awareness of disability in general – although autism awareness as a specific training course hasn’t been offered, we’d certainly consider something for the future if it were available.” The theatre already hosts events for children with learning disabilities, working with Crawley council’s arts development team on organising inclusive events.

So while it’s heartening to see that the official relaxed performance drive is gathering apace, it’s also worth noting the difference that can be made through individual actions, good old fashioned customer communication, courtesy and simple awareness and understanding.

As for the days of people with learning disabilities being frowned upon in mainstream theatre, let’s hope they’re behind us (panto pun fully intended).

* For more information on accessible shows and venues, you can also checkout the Time Out with Netbuddy listings or follow @timeoutnetbuddy on Twitter