Category Archives: Writing

Made Possible: Lizzie’s story

Singer-songwriter Lizzie Emeh in a film for the book, Made Possible.

Londoner Lizzie Emeh says that she comes alive when she’s on stage – “like someone’s plugged me into the mains”.

You can get a glimpse of her performance in the short film we shot together to mark the publication of my book, Made Possible: stories of success by people with learning disabilities – in their own words.

Lizzie wasn’t expected to live beyond her third birthday, according to doctors. Today she’s a successful singer-songwriter, making history as the first solo artist with a learning disability to release an album of original songs to the public.

Lizzie’s talent was spotted at an open mic night run by arts charity Heart n Soul, where she’s now a key artist.

‘Made Possible’ is edited by Saba Salman and published by Unbound. Available from the usual booksellers like https://amzn.to/3fMJMXh

The good, the bad and the ah here we go again

You can’t rehabilitate someone when they’re locked away” Campaigner Julie Newcombe and her son Jamie, who I worked with on a story in January. Photograph: Martin Godwin/The Guardian.

I’m ending 2019 by looking back at some of the issues I’ve written about this year.

Generally, I’ve covered the good stuff we need more of and the bad stuff we definitely need less of.

Thanks to everyone I’ve worked with (quoted and not) about human rights, disability, learning disability, social care, equality, diversity and campaigning.

So here’s what we need more of and less of in 2020 and beyond, based on what I’ve written about:

1. More human rights and a proper community life for people with autism and/or a learning disability.

2. More of an ‘ordinary life’ for people like my sister, Raana.

3. More professionals putting people – like Nigel Hollins – at the centre of their care.

 Sheila Hollins with her son, Nigel, who is now a Beyond Words adviser and runs one of the Surrey book clubs. Photograph: Martin Godwin/The Guardian

4. …on a practical level this means more professionals truly understanding that people and their families are usually the real experts in their own care. No lip service thanks.

5. More authentic representation of disability on stage, screen, in front of and behind the camera and in the audience.

The Peanut Butter Falcon’s sentimental approach could be construed as reinforcing stereotypes about ‘vulnerable’ people triumphing over tragedy.’ Zack Gottsagen and Shia LaBeouf in The Peanut Butter Falcon. Photograph: Seth Johnson/Signature/Kobal/Rex/Shutterstock

6. More support and social care funding for autistic people and real, honest involvement of people and families in research.

7. Less social isolation so older and learning-disabled people really know their neighbours.

8. Less (or rather zero) health inequalities for people with learning disabilities, special educational needs and profound and multiple learning disabilities.

 Erica Carlin, a woman with multiple learning difficulties, who doctors had written off. Photograph: Andy Lord

9. Less cultural and social prejudice towards BME and Asian disabled women.

10. Less assumptions that people like my sister aren’t interested in or capable of forming relationships of different kinds.

11. Less official reports that bang on about the same stuff we’ve known for years and that fail to actually make any difference.

12. Finally, ending on a positive note – here’s my awesome sister, Raana offering a glimpse into her idea of community with a short film she made with her support worker (spoiler alert: it’s not that different to anyone else’s).

  • This post is based on a Twitter thread and reflects some of the issues that feature in my book, Made Possible, which is being published on 28 May 2020.

‘It’s like the light’s come back on’: connecting people in care homes with their communities

Paul Williams, former champion runner, is now a fledgling public speaker thanks to a new project connecting people who use support services with their local communities (pic: NDTi)

Paul Williams has a learning disability and was once an athlete. Years in institutional care meant he didn’t mention his talent. With the Time to Connect project, which I wrote about in the Guardian today, he dug out his medals, has done a local talk and is now writing his life story.

Williams, his care organisation and volunteer are part of the Time to Connect community inclusion project. This encourages stronger links between people using care services and their neighbourhoods, and ensures they become more active citizens. Time To Connect is a partnership between social inclusion charity NDTi(National Development Team for Inclusion) and Timebanking UK, the national charity that helps people to share time and skills.

So far, Time to Connect has involved 265 people: 92 care staff, 102 older people, 39 learning disabled people, 10 people with mental health support needs and 22 time bank members. An interim reportdescribes positive outcomes for all participants: “The evaluation found numerous examples of increased confidence and motivation among care staff as well as changes to attitudes and behaviour. This is in turn leading to increased opportunities for people to connect with their communities.”

Time to Connect adds value to care work because support staff get a greater glimpse into people’s lives and characters, rather than focusing simply on their physical needs. Clive Brown, Paul’s support worker, says: “It makes the job more rewarding and it improves my relationship with the people I’m working with. It just makes me smile a little more.”

Read the full piece on the Guardian website

Happy Christmas 2018

My youngest sister Raana (left) – cheers and merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Season’s greetings to everyone – this is me with my sister Raana, thanking everyone who’s collaborated on stories, projects and posts this past year – here’s to more of the same in 2019.

Big thanks also to all of you who’ve supported or helped publicise the crowdfunded book I’m editing, Made Possible, about the talents of people with learning disabilities. It’s
partly inspired by my sister, who has the learning disability fragile X syndrome, and aims to shatter the lazy stereotypes we have about learning disability.

There’s been a welcome focus in the media recently on learning disability, thanks largely to the determination of campaigning families, but there’s a huge amount left to do. People are still subjected to inequalities in health, housing, employment and attitudes, 2,350 autistic and learning disabled people are still stuck in “assessment and treatment centres” – despite the government’s long-standing promise to move them into proper housing in communities.

Here’s hoping 2019 will bring more action, instead of just more rhetoric, as I’ve written before, and the people who have to spend the festive break in inpatient care are reunited with their families soon.

Changing perceptions of learning disability: an update on my book, Made Possible

With my sister Raana (left), who has influenced my book Made Possible.

So I’ve spent the last few months working with some incredible essayists for my crowdfunded book Made Possible. The book is a collection of essays on success by (note: ‘by” and not “about”) high achieving people with learning disabilities. Some pieces are still being written while others are almost complete. I’m delighted – but not surprised – to say that the ideas and stories across the essay collection are quite astounding.

The pieces of writing cover very different successes in a range of contrasting areas like the arts, campaigning and sports. But what unites these varied essays is the fact that the writers’ voices are so honest, powerful and at times just plain funny (intentionally so). This is how Made Possible will give a two-fingered salute to the outdated perceptions that exist about learning disability. The book will not only document the hugely impressive achievements of talented people with learning disabilities, but will do so in an engaging, authentic way.

On the issue of talent, my sister Raana’s always been a creative type, from her childhood fancy dress days to her current love for woodwork and baking. When she was younger though, art was her thing, and I’m delighted that a creation she made a few years ago featured in the recent national disability conference at Lancaster University.

‘Mosaic’, by Raana Salman

The ninth biennial Lancaster Disability Conference run by the Centre for Disability Research (CeDR) incorporates Raana’s intricate Mosaic in its event information and publicity. If you follow #cedr18 and @CeDRLancs on Twitter you might get a glimpse of my sister’s handiwork which usually hangs in my hallway (so as many people as possible get to see it). Raana’s family and friends are so proud to see Mosaic shared more widely – a big thank you to Lancaster University and its Made Possible supporters for the opportunity to show more people what our sister – daughter – aunt – cousin – niece – friend – housemate – colleague- neighbour (because Raana is many things) can do.

The fact that learning disabled people’s talents are overlooked is an issue that cropped up in a recent interview I did for the Guardian. In conversation with Sam Clark, the new chief executive of campaigning organisation Learning Disability England, Sam’s words reflect what lies at the heart of my book: “We all bring gifts and talents, and I think it would be brilliant if we could understand that’s the case for everyone.”

I think it would be brilliant too. When I launched the crowdfunding campaign for Made Possible, I explained that shattering the tired stereotypes of “superhero” and “scrounger” is what drives this book. It also influences my articles on disability issues, some of which were recently shortlisted for a British Journalism Award for Specialist Media. Specialist writers cover issues that can be otherwise overlooked in mainstream media – my focus is the 1.5m people in the UK with a learning disability, the inequality they face and their untapped potential.

Thanks, as ever, to everyone who’s helping to get Made Possible published; by backing this book you’re helping create something that challenges the current narratives.

If you’ve not done so already, do link up with me on Twitter, LinkedIn, Facebook or Instagram or using the hashtag #MadePossible

Social Issue opinion piece: It’s just not my cup of tea

The author with his daughter, Sarah (pic credit: Merriman family).

By Andy Merriman

While imbibing a cup of coffee at the computer, my Twitter feed led me to an article in the Daily Mail with the strapline, ‘Babies with Down’s syndrome who are given green-tea supplements are less likely to develop facial disorders.’

Well, you could have knocked me over with a tea leaf. This was something. We always knew there was more that we could and should have done for our daughter 26 years ago when she was born with Down’s syndrome.

We had clearly missed a trick. The answer to stigmatisation, exclusion and discrimination lay in a tea bag. If only we had supplemented her diet with green tea, it all could have been so very different. Apparently, new research in Spain suggested: ‘Six out of seven Down’s syndrome sufferers … developed facial dimensions would have matched her healthy peers.’

Where to begin?

Sarah does not suffer from Down’s syndrome. She has the genetic condition, which affects her life in many ways, but if anyone has met Sarah and other children and adults with Down’s syndrome, ‘suffering’ would not be the word that comes to mind. Sarah’s oft repeated phrase, ‘I love my life’ would easily dispel that myth.

I’m also intrigued by the comparison with ‘healthy peers’. Does that make her unhealthy because of a genetic condition? Sarah does not have a disease. The article continued, ‘Researchers hope that normalising the facial features of Down’s syndrome may help to reduce the stigma patients experience.’

‘Patients’? ‘Stigma’? People with Down’s syndrome are not ill and the only stigma that they might experience is the publication of such articles, which perpetuates the stereotypical view of my daughter and others. Increasing the awareness and understanding of Down’s syndrome and the opportunities for people with the condition will do much more to reduce any stigma.

Sarah has facial features and physical characteristics that are more common in people with Down’s syndrome, but she looks more like us, her parents, than others with the condition. Her physiognomy remains unmistakably that of a young woman with Down’s syndrome and that’s who she is. Her Down’s syndrome is a part of her very being so we do not wish to take that away from her. We would only be changing the way she looks to make her features more acceptable to other people. In any case, her unique character is so prominent that her features become irrelevant.

Of course, supplementing diets is not a new idea; over 20 years ago parents were experimenting with TNI (Targeted Nutritional Intervention) whereby supplements of vitamins, minerals, amino acids and digestive enzymes were given to children with Down’s syndrome. The programme was supposed to help cognitive development, clarity of speech and it was even claimed that there was an improvement of facial features. Even then, the term ‘improvement’ made me me somewhat nervous, as the term can only be subjective and dictated by society’s desire to make everyone appear ‘normal’.

Are we now still are trying to eradicate the physical characteristics as a way of denying the diagnosis? Everybody has his or her own individual personality and physical make-up. People with Down’s syndrome are all unique individuals with their own personalities, family backgrounds and aspirations that make them who they are. Every individual person should be valued for who they are, not what they look like.

Anyway, I had pondered too long over this preposterous article and so by now my coffee had gone cold. Maybe for my next beverage, I should forget the caffeine and imbibe some green tea. I had, after all, always wanted to look like George Clooney. Apparently, a nightly cup of Earl Grey can create a noble look, a steaming demitasse of Darjeeling before bed might turn me into a Kit Harrington doppelgänger and who knows the effect of a pint of Lapsang Souchong a day might achieve?

No…on second thoughts I think I’ll stick to the java and remain just who I am.

Andy Merriman is the Author of ‘A Major Adjustment, How a Remarkable Child Became a Remarkable Adult’, published by Safe Haven Books and available from the Down’s Syndrome Association and all bookshops.

Success – as written by people with learning disabilities

People with learning disabilities are pitied or patronised, but rarely heard from in their own words.

Made Possible is an attempt to challenge this and change attitudes – it’s the crowdfunded book I’m editing, featuring essays on success by high achieving people with learning disabilities.

It was very cool to see Made Possible sweep into 2018 with a feature in the January issue of disability lifestyle magazine Enable. In the print edition, Enable used this shot of my baseball-cap loving sister (who has partly inspired the book) looking thoughtful and determined:

Enable magazine feature on Made Possible (photo of Raana Salman by Rob Gould)

The article describes the book’s aim of putting learning disabled people’s personalities and potential before their disability. The editorial also reflects Made Possible’s diverse range of essay contributors, and explains its goal of challenging stereotypes: “Many traditional texts focusing on disability, be it physical, sensory or learning, are factual in a medical or academic context. Made Possible is set to change this narrative by appealing to a wider audience in a bid to open the world of creativity, talent, varied skills and experiences to the general public.”

The book’s contributors have also been busy developing and working on the essays, and we’ve been unpicking the concept of success in the process. As the Enable article says of Made Possible’s theme, “success is different for everyone”, and although we’re at the inital stages, it’s already fascinating (and often surprising) to discover the essayists’ views on achievement – and who defines this.

At a time when disabled people bear the brunt of society’s inequalities, from healthcare to housing and employment, redressing the imbalance and describing how people can fulfil their ambitions is more vital than ever (you can read more about the timely aspects of this book in this recent Guardian piece by scrolling down to “Why do we need this book?”).

It’s also been superb to see new supporters pre-ordering copies of the book – thank you! If you’ve recently joined us, do connect if you’d like to on Twitter, LinkedIn, Facebook or Instagram using the hashtag #MadePossible.

Also much gratitude to those of you already in touch and mentioning the book on social media, it’s a tip top way to keep #MadePossible on the radar. Do continue to share the Made Possible page with others you think might be interested in what we’re trying to do.

To find out more, check out Made Possible on the website of its publisher, Unbound or see this page elsewhere on the blog.

Made Possible: diverse individuals united by a common cause

Just 11 days since launch and Made Possible is already more than 40% crowdfunded – that’s down to 100 brilliantly supportive people so far helping to create this groundbreaking book by pledging and pre-ordering it.

I’m working with award-winning publisher Unbound on Made Possible, a collection of essays by successful people with learning disabilities. It’s incredible that it’s almost half way to being published and has hit the 100 supporter landmark, something that is entirely down to a group of diverse individuals united by a common cause.

People with learning disabilities are pitied or patronsised, but this new book challenges the current narratives. It presents the authentic experiences of a range of professionals who have a learning disability and, for the first time, they tell their own personal success stories in their own words.

You can read more about the book here and check the latest updates here.

Follow me on Twitter @Saba_Salman and #MadePossible to keep up to date with progress.

You can also check out the #UnboundAnthology thread this week (and if you’ve already made a pledge to help create this unique book, then thank you!)

Attitudes must change: launching Made Possible

This update was originally posted on Unbound on Sunday 10 Sept:

First off, a HUGE thank you to all you brilliant early bird pledgers for getting Made Possible off the ground – I’ve been blown away by your support, feedback, encouragement and enthusiasm.

Your help in creating this book means that Made Possible reached a major crowdfunding milestone after just 2 days – the 25% mark. Sensational – we’ve not even been going for a week and we’re a quarter funded!

Thanks too to those of you who’ve fearlessly embraced the unfamiliar waters of crowdfunding; this is all new to me too, so we’re in it together.

Some of you have asked why this method to create Made Possible. Good question. Unbound felt right, not least because it’s an award-winning publishing company, but because it connects readers directly with the books they want to see written. In a nutshell, you support the book you want to read – without your pledge, the book can’t get published. And Unbound breaks the traditional boundary between reader and writer – an approach that overturns the status quo seemed like absolutely the right fit for a book that aims to do the same thing.

So here we all are, this is now our Made Possible community! Thank you for being a part of it – it’s going to grow, and as it does, we get closer to the aim of challenging some very outdated mindsets about learning disability.

If you’ve pledged, please do share the news about what you’re helping to create, and encourage others to help make this happen. You can use #MadePossible on social media and see who else is talking about what we’re trying to do.

Thanks everyone, and more soon,
Saba