Pat McGuigan, Smash Up The Workhouse Smash up Workfare
Noel Smith, Star of David
Aaron WJ Pilgrim, Michael Drawing Futuristic Cars
Sarah Davies, Leicester Square Busker
Liz Innes, Lake district landscape
Sarah Davies, Black and White Man Dr Salter
William Ball, Face to Face
Ese Imonioro, Gotcha
Aaron WJ Pilgrim, Grace
Graeme Newton, Help
Hope is the focus of a new exhibition by artists from the CoolTan arts and mental health charity.
Stayin’ Alive, which opens today, includes works in different media including oil on canvas, acrylic, printmaking and sculpture. The stigma-breaking south London-based organisation is run by and for people with mental health issues and encourages the idea that mental wellbeing is inspired by creativity. The recent World Mental Health Day was the impetus for the artworks.
Aaron Pilgrim has four pictures in the exhibition and has been involved in CoolTan for five years. His Warhol-like Music (Martika) (above) is about the impact of music on mental health (“and I love listening to the 80’s pop star Martika”). Aaron’s last picture, Drawing futureristic cars (Michael), reflects how he helped to frame the exhibition and taught two volunteers how to mount, cut and frame pictures in the exhibition.
He says of The Globe Theatre & The Tate Modern “the arts help keep me well, especially painting, and these two places represent the arts. This picture is in the style of Turner.
Another of Aaron’s picture, My beautiful daughter Grace is about “being a good dad & my family help keep me well”.
Liz Innes, who has been attending art classes at CoolTan for around seven years, shows piece depicting a Lake District landscape. Liz adds: “I wanted to submit my landscape painting which was inspired by a photograph I took 20 years ago. I enjoyed painting this as it reminds me of my younger, more lively days when I often went walking with friends. I have really enjoyed my work in pen and ink recently and feel it is developing well. I have received a lot of encouragement from the staff and tutors at CoolTan.”
Marjorie Mclean, who has been involved with CoolTan for eight years, is showing her watercolour My Allotment. “For me going to the allotment, being in the sunshine and seeing things grow, producing food, makes me feel hopeful and happy”, she says.
Marjorie McLean, My AllotmentEse Imonioro, Gotcha
Ese Imonioro’s work in collage and felt-tip was done about a difficult time in her life” “At that moment I felt quite persecuted, but I could not convince anyone of what was happening. The painting is of a doctor who helped me during this period and made everyone see the truth. I will always be eternally grateful to him for that and for giving me my freedom.”
Lynn Hughes, Kingfisher
* The CoolTan exhibition runs until 26th November, Monday to Thursday 10-5:45, Fridays 10-5 at CoolTan Arts, third Floor, 224-236 Walworth Road, SE17 1JE
As it’s Fragile X Awareness Day, I wanted to re-post this poem about my sister, Raana. I wrote it as a hearty nod to the fantastic film Mission to Lars which I wrote about for the Guardian.
Fragile X is the most common cause of inherited learning disability in the world – but my sister’s a rare character, as you’ll read here.
My sister, Raana
The Fabulous Raana Salman
What does “puck off” mean, you asked,
When a playground jibe you misheard,
It’s an insult, we said, with a bittersweet laugh,
And “puck” is quite a rude word.
You’re older now, and more in the know,
And you’re still just brilliantly funny,
We love how you call my other half “bro”,
And our mother is always called “mummies!”
You constantly amaze us with all that you do,
You garden, you cook and you bake,
You’re a music fan who likes her tunes loud,
Full volume – bloody early – at dawn break.
You love Chinese food and movie nights in,
And sometimes the pub if it’s near,
Remember your fury when we ordered you juice,
And you indignantly cried: “I want beer!”
“You’re fried!” you shout, knowingly wrong,
After watching The Apprentice on telly,
You say it when angry or to make us smile,
And it shows you’ve fire in your belly.
You’re creative and busy and do stuff we can’t,
You’ve woven and painted and grown,
I love having you stay so you’re able to see
How your art brightens up my home.
You’re thoughtful with gifts, matching present to person,
(You know I like peppermint tea)
We joke how “mummies” foots the bill sometimes,
And you say of your gifts: “They’re for free!”
You love baggy sweatshirts, they comfort and cloak,
You categorically refuse a posh frock,
You know your own mind, you’re fabulous and kind,
And basically Raans, you rock.
Follow the hashtag #FragileXAwarenessDay on Twitter to find out more about the syndrome, or try the Fragile X Society and Mission to Lars.
Punk band PKNShouty, sweary, noisy chaos, big stage personas, a self-proclaimed kick-ass attitude, loud drums, screeching guitars and songs about fighting and sex.
That this is a description of two punk bands currently touring the UK will hardly come as a shock. But the bands confound expectations in other ways; the gigs by Pertti Kurikan Nimipaivat (PKN), from Finland and Zombie Crash, a Brighton heavy metal band, represent the first time that two learning disabled bands will tour the country.
I’ve blogged before about PKN, the band is as likely to write lyrics arguing for respect and equality as it is to sing about avoiding trips to the pedicurist or to complain about residential care homes.
The four date tour, which began on Tuesday, is funded by the Arts Council England and organized by, Constant Flux, an arts organisation that provides opportunities to learning disabled musicians.
Richard Phoenix, who runs Constant Flux, explains: “Often when I talk to people about working with people with learning disabilities in music I encounter the “Aww…. That’s so nice” attitude, which isn’t intrinsically wrong in any way but it seems to me to represent a feeling that people with learning disabilities are only capable of emotionally neutered art, of things that are ‘nice’ and ‘happy’ which from my experience is completely off the mark.
“This tour is a perfect example to present people with something that totally challenges those perceptions, nothing about the bands music or performance is going to be ‘nice’ in any way shape or form. There will be shouting and swearing, with songs about not wanting to live in residential care, demands for respect and equality, songs about fighting, songs about sex.”
Richard says that the musicians’ uncompromising attitudes musical ability will shatter the stereotypical view of what people with learning disabilities can achieve, “this in turn will hopefully help positively affect attitudes toward those with learning disabilities”.
The fact the bands are touring is a vital part of the project, adds Richard. “Touring is something which is such a huge part of what it is to be a musician and being in a band, but for so long it has been extremely difficult to achieve within the learning disabled music scene because it can be such a financial and logistical nightmare.”
Kalle, who supports PKN, sums up the band’s gung-ho attitude: “They’re feeling very excited about this. They are used to playing gigs in tight schedules but never done this tight… but they don’t think about it. They love going abroad, even though some of them don’t really know, or care, where they are globally.”
Ryan, lead guitarist and vocalist with Zombie Crash, offers this response to the tour: “Metal unleashed from the learning disabled community! It means the ultimate activity for any band to put themselves through, to go on tour, to be as active as you possibly can. The fact that we’re doing this in the month of October and Halloween is the perfect timing for us to unleash hell!”
The fact the tour has promoted as a regular event – rather than as simply a “good cause” – should help “create situations where people with learning disabilities at a gig is normalised, where it’s not unusual or exceptional”, says Richard.
On a practical level, the touring musicians have to be supported. “Making this tour viable for learning disabled artists involved ensuring that, as vulnerable adults, the musicians were supported properly,” explains Richard, “so there are 22 of us on the tour, 10 band members and various members of support, some people require one-on-one support, there are members of creative support and musical facilitation, drivers and myself managing the tour.”
Safe, reliable accommodation has been booked in advance each night, unlike in the DIY touring network where you play a gig and don’t necessarily know where you’re staying that night. “The Arts Council was so important in making this whole thing happen…we’ve been able to book everything in advance and ensure that as much risk as possible is removed, also it has taken away the dimension of the tour being a success in a financial sense and has created a situation where it can be judged on it’s artistic merits.”
One interesting byproduct of the tour planning is that it has created debate about how best to promote the gigs. Richard adds: “The main question that is asked is that if the music can stand on its own then why does the element of disability have to come into the equation? There definitely is weight behind this argument, however in discussion with several artists with learning disabilities and parents and carers of artists, the over-riding feeling is that it is more important for these artists to be strong, empowered representatives of a largely under-represented and marginalised section of society.”
• The remaining tour dates are today, October 3, at Sheffield at Heeley Sport and Social Club (with Skiplickers and Amarous Dialogues) and Friday, October 4, in Brighton at The Green Door Store (with Good Throb and The Soft Walls). Both venues are accessible with accessible toilets and prices are £3 (carers free/donation only).
David Bailey with his stormtrooper helmet for Art Wars, an exhibition to raise awareness about the disappearance of Tom Moore, brother of Art Wars creator Ben.
Tom Moore, who went missing in 2003, his family is now renewing the search to find him.
July 17 2003, Ancona, northern Italy. A 31-year-old Englishman withdraws 150 Euros from a cash point. This everyday event just over a decade ago has huge significance for the Moore family because it was the last financial transaction Tom Moore is known to have made; the last sign his parents and siblings have that he was still alive. Tom has not been seen or heard or from since.
Next week, Tom’s brother Ben is renewing the search for his sibling with an art exhibition featuring high profile artists as well as rising stars of the art world. The aim is to raise both awareness and funds to mark the tenth year since Tom’s disappearance. Proceeds from Art Wars, a collection of Star Wars stormtrooper helmets transformed by internationally-renowned artists, will be auctioned for the Missing Tom fund.
A note written by Tom Moore before he went missing.
Ben, founder of public art enterprise Art Below, has collaborated with Andrew Ainsworth, creator of the original 1976 stormtrooper helmet, to produce the show. Art Wars launches at the inaugural Strarta Art Fair at the Saatchi Gallery next Wednesday (October 9), with works showcased via a series of billboard posters at Regent’s Park underground, coinciding with Frieze London.
“Stormtrooper helmets are iconic, international, instantly recognisable and timeless,” explains Ben of the medium and the message. “I’d been working with Andrew Ainsworth since 2007 and it was always in my mind to do this show with big artists; I had access to these iconic objects and I knew that there were artists who would like to be involved because it’s something we all grew up with [the Star Wars films]. When I realized it was the 10th anniversary of Tom going missing, I needed to catapult myself into action and do something to get the search for Tom re-energized.”
Artists, all of whom were issued with a helmet cast from the original 1976 moulds, include Damien Hirst, Jake and Dinos Chapman, Paul Fryer, Mat Collishaw and David Bailey. Other participants are English multimedia street artist D*Face, Portuguese artist Joana Vasconcelos, Turner prize nominee Yinka Shonibare, street artist Inkie, Mr.BrainWash, East London’s Alphabet Street creator Ben Eine, BP Portrait Award winner Antony Micallef and upcoming star Oliver Clegg.
The money raised from Art Wars will enable the family to travel in the search and to publicise their efforts to find Tom. Ben also hopes to bring attention to the Missing People charity, which has supported his family. There is also a new website Missing Tom to help locate the now 41-year-old.
‘StormOffSki’: Stormtrooper head encrusted in Swarowksi crystals by Ben Moore
As Diana Brown, Ben and Tom’s older sister, writes on the Missing Tom website, the Moores were, and are, a close knit family. “Tom and I growing up, had been as close as it possible to be as brother and sister,” Diana writes. “There was a curious closeness that comes, from having a brother seven years before another two brothers arrived. We were the lucky products of a military family [the sibling’s father was a colonel in the Royal Marines]…We moved house frequently, but were always secure in the knowledge we had loving parents and family all around us.”
Tom was, by all accounts, a genial child (“Tom was blonde, small for his age, good-looking, with a quirky sense of humour, a born actor, musical…with his beaming smile and his floppy fringe. He was thoughtful, kind and never hurt a soul”, writes Diana) but he found it tough at his all-boys school.
Antony Micallef with his ‘Peace Maker’ helmet, for the Art Wars show
After school came a gap year to India where Tom “full of hope and promise”, as Diana writes, grew “disheartened at the huge confusion that India presented to him” and was affected by the drugs he found in Goa. He returned to live with his parents before going to Lancaster University to study theology. There, as Diana found, his mental turmoil was obvious. “He played music, he studied and he went about his daily routines, but he found life very hard. I found my brother, confused and suffering from the onset of mental illness. He left university early and came to live at home.”
The following few years sound like a fragile mixture of travels, doctors and medication, with Tom’s family struggling to find the right balance between supporting their son’s desire for freedom and realising that medication might help bring some stability to his mental health, the “daily dark thoughts” which Diana describes on the website.
A few months before he went missing, Tom had travelled to a shrine in Bosnia, where Ben eventually found him in a nearby town. Ben explains: “When he went away again a few months later, I thought I could find him – but the months started turning into years.”
“The last time I saw Tom, we had game of chess and although I didn’t usually beat him, on this occasion I was winning,” says Ben. “It was a particularly slow game and now I look back at it I realise he wasn’t mentally present, he was quiet and absorbed in other thoughts. I often wonder if I should have kept the pieces how they were, so we can finish the game one day.”
Ben spent the three years following his brother’s disappearance looking for him, visiting well known religious sites across Europe knowing of his brother’s interest in religion, and following various trails (like the cash point transaction). At one point, he says, he was only two weeks behind him, but the demands of work and his own young family meant he eventually had to put the search on hold.
“I still have great hope, confidence and faith that I am going to see Tom again, but we need to get out there and figure out where he is,” says Ben. He wants his brother to know that his aim is to make sure he’s okay, rather than simply dragging him back home against his will. The disappearance of Tom, says Ben, has left a gaping hole in their lives: “I used to rely on Tom for certain things – he was there for me, I wouldn’t go to my dad in a certain situation, or my sister or mother – there things that only he had the remedy for, I miss that.”
As Ben explains in a short video (above and on the Missing Tom site), life as a family of a missing person means struggling with constant uncertainty mixed with optimism: “Searching for Tom is like searching for the holy grail…I see homeless people in the street and wonder if they are on the same journey.” Although a memorial has been held for Tom since he disappeared, his brother refused to grieve for his missing sibling: “He is still alive, that is what I believe.”
Bullying crushes a child’s self esteem and confidence. It can leave a child feeling alone, totally helpless, and with no one to turn to. In their childhood innocence and naivety some even blame themselves for their torment. Many schools now have robust anti bullying policies in the form of bullying charters.
We live in an age where teachers acknowledge widely the emotional needs of children more than ever before. Resources such as SEAL (social and emotional aspects of learning) provide increased emotional support in many schools.
As a consequence bullying has now left many classrooms, but not all. This is commendable but, not only do schools’ attitudes and actions in response to bullying vary considerably, is it enough?
And now in the age social networking sites it has insidiously entered the sanctuary of children’s bedrooms. Running away from the school environment and threatening bullies now leads straight to the bedroom, a once safe haven where a child’s computer suddenly provides no way of escape. Computers are the contemporary child’s toy and some may say the innocence of youth has died as a result. This year’s forthcoming Anti-bullying Week, for example, has a special focus on cyber-bullying.
These issues have been on my mind since the death of 14-year-old Hannah Smith who suffered relentless bullying online. Her death was not a stark reminder of how vulnerable our children are not protected from bullies even in the supposed safety of their own homes. There has been intense speculation and much knee-jerking as a result of her death, but the bottom line is that social media played a part in her suicide. Whatever happened, she was a vulnerable child.
But social networking sites can be so liberating for many providing an outlet for those who lack self confidence in face to face interactions and who might have smaller social networks than usual. Many can make friends and form relationships online that they would otherwise struggle to in school.
These sites can be very helpful, especially for those who lack social contact, or may have poor social skills, agoraphobia etc, but the flip side of the coin is the bullying issue. Reaching an acceptable compromise regarding social networking will not be easy because the genie has now been let out of the box, so to speak.
When experiencing low moods, your reality becomes alien to that of everyone else. I have always advised people to seek help at the earliest opportunity to prevent depression reaching this critical stage. And this is where social sites that support mental health can help.
There is the social site launched by comedian Ruby Wax, for example, Black Dog Tribe, “a place in which like-minded people can find their own ‘tribe’ and share experiences in a supportive online community through forums, blogs, daily news and mental health information”. Another example is Kent and Medway NHS Trust, for example, which is piloting Buddy, an online system that records mood changes. And there are a raft of support-specific online forums linked to various charities and support groups which can make all the difference to vulnerable people.
This is the positive aspect of these sites.
Yet it is too simplistic an argument that social media and networks alone can help prevent depression. An holistic approach can include talking therapies, physical exercise and medication, if appropriate. These therapies can support each other – medication, as I know from personal experience and from my nursing career, has its down side. It can also make your mood fluctuate wildly, become disinhibited and even suicidal. Having easy access to online support can, at times like this, be vital. These issues are brought into sharp focus by the news today that the number of people needing treatment for mental health issues will have increased by more than 2 million by 2030.
We should look closely at both the negatives and positives about social media and networks in relation to mental health – and ignore them at our peril. While it is also wrong to assume that social media alone can push someone towards mental health problems, excessive use of social sites, as is often reported, can itself lead to problems.
Children sitting for hours in front of a screen removes them from the social contact of others that will improve their face to face communication skills and confidence in later life. Effective communication involves eye contact, body language, and gesturing. All ignored when lying in bed hitting a keyboard in silent and lonely surroundings.
Cyber bullies and unpoliced social media sites populated by children (or those posing as children) are not part of a civilised society. We must make it all stop. Now.
Up Down Boy: Nathan-Bessell as Matty and Heather Williams as Odette (photo: Richard Davenport)“I wanted our sons to see that they could aspire to more than retrieving trolleys from ASDA’s carpark. Thank you…”
This comment, albeit tongue in cheek, from someone who watched the Myrtle Theatre Company’s performance of Up Down Boy, reflects some of the appeal of a play praised for both being honest, amusing and uplifting.
The central character, Matty, is played by Nathan Bessell, the playwright Sue Shield’s son. Shield’s semi-autobiographical story, about the peaks and troughs of bringing up her child, aims to present a real picture of parenting a young person with a learning disability.
Nathan Bessell in Up Down Boy (photo: Richard Davenport)
Originally performed at Bristol’s Tobacco Factory Theatre, Up Down Boy is on national tour from September to November, starting with a relaxed performance at The Shed at the National Theatre tomorrow.
The premise is that Matty’s imminent departure for college sparks mixed emotions in his mother: “You’ve got to stop living on Planet Matty. You’re going away. You’re going to have to live in the real world”
As Shields has said: “The day we were told our son had Down’s syndrome we felt like the bottom had dropped from our world. I have now found from my own experiences that having a child with special needs gets you straight to the back of the queue, and that the special needs are often blatantly ignored. I found then that I had a choice – sink or swim. Stand up and fight for what I believed to be rightfully his or stay at the back of that line and accept what was handed out to him. I think too much of him to let this happen.”
Christopher at 17, with SueMost doctors and geneticists have not even heard of the condition that my 21-year old son Christopher has – Pitt Hopkins Syndrome (PTHS).
Christopher was probably the first British person to be diagnosed with Pitt Hopkins Syndrome with the first blood test developed for it. PTHS is a rare neurodevelopmental disorder caused by a spontaneous mutation on the 18th chromosome.
When Christopher was diagnosed the main rare disease charities hadn’t heard of it and only seven children in the world had ever been formally diagnosed with it before the blood test was developed.
Christoper and Sue in July this year at the Olympics anniversary games
Today is the first annual international Pitt Hopkins awareness day (18th September, to reflect the relevance of the 18th chromosome) and the official launch of the UK support group’s website.
Today, nearly 300 families across the globe who are carers for young people with one of the most rare medical conditions in the world will be reaching out to try to find other people who have the same condition. We have produced a short slideshow to help raise the profile and understanding of the condition. I am aware of 33 people in the UK with Pitt Hopkins Syndrome (PTHS). I believe that there could be as many as 250, as the incidence is thought to be 1 in 200,000 to 300,000.
This is a condition so rare that there are no official records of people who have the disease and geneticists who diagnose it are restricted by confidentiality from sharing patient specific information with all but close members of the families.
Yet for parents coping with the shattering realization that their child has a rare condition, sharing experiences, supporting each other and finding ways to help is absolutely essential – that’s why it often falls to the families of patients themselves to find and support each other.
Christopher in his new bed, age 10
Christopher, who is 5ft 5in, has severe learning disabilities and in development terms is described as having the same physical and mental abilities as a toddler of 12 to 18 months. When he was diagnosed at almost age 16, I could find no one who knew anyone with PTHS. I put a message on a rare diagnosis website and almost six months later a mother in the States found it and we started our online support group. This was the first ever PTHS group.
When your child has a serious and rare disease, you’re desperate to get as much information as you can – information that can help your child. When literally no one can help – you find the determination to go and seek that information yourself.
I also feel it’s important that I share my positive experiences of how my husband and I have helped Christopher.
All through his life, my husband Brian and I have spent sometimes up to 5 hours a day working with Christopher to help him reach the normal milestones that you’d expect a baby and toddler to reach before age two.
Christopher learned to walk at the age of nine – which was a massive achievement for him. He learned to feed himself with a spoon at 11, and we are working with him getting to standing on his own. We’re trying to toilet train him. He can ascend and descend stairs or steps with supervision. Every small step is such a massive step for him, and for us. I feel it’s more rewarding for us as parents that we’ve had to fight for every small development. We like to say: “Never say never “ for Christopher.
I have met some wonderful families through Christopher. We want to reach everyone who knows a child with PTHS that we can. We want, of course, to reach the parents whose children are undiagnosed. We are using social media a lot to do this. You can reach a lot of people this way but there are still lots of families who don’t use social media, who don’t know how or don’t want to know how or just do not have the time. We are hoping to reach these parents through doctors, health centres, schools, daycares and other parents.
Each parent is doing this locally with their local health providers and raising awareness in local papers if they can.
We are a very small but very determined bunch of parents!
We are also raising awareness around the world to raise funds for research. Audrey, another mother, used her skills as a writer and journalist to find top scientists willing to start new research for us.
Dr David Sweatt, an US-based researcher into the mechanisms underlying learning and memory, has stated: “In essence, knowledge gained from studying the orphan disease PTHS would potentially allow broad understanding of a wide variety of learning and memory disabilities that afflict many families.”
We are very excited about the beginning of real research into finding a therapeutic approach to help our children. There are such exciting advances in genetics and neurogenetics and we are at the start of a long but pioneering journey.
In the UK, members of the International support group are fundraising too. We hope to send about £8,500 over soon towards the research. We are in the process of setting up a small charity – Pitt Hopkins UK.
The Dutch Pitt Hopkins group, founded in 2008, has funding to create a detailed ongoing questionnaire for Pitt Hopkins Syndrome. It is only in Dutch and English at the moment but we hope that it will be translated into other languages, as we make links across the world. This data will be indispensable to research and to everyone’s understanding of PTHS but can only be provided by those we know about and can invite to complete the online questionnaire.
Christopher has sensory therapy at age 12
I also want to find those other mothers and fathers to tell them that having a child with a rare disease like Pitt Hopkins can be an overwhelmingly positive experience. Christopher is such a happy person with a great sense of humour, despite being non-verbal. I’m intensely proud of him and his achievements. Brian and I get so many more opportunities to celebrate his achievements than we would with a typically developing child.
I feel I have gained a lot from Christopher. I have learned a lot about brain development; I have learned when to say no, when to fight and when to let things go. I have learned to prioritise, I am stronger emotionally and I am more organised. I have learned that the best advocate for your child is you, their mother.
• For more information about Pitt Hopkins Syndrome, please see our website or go to Facebook
• Raise awareness of rare disease by clicking on www.raiseyourhand.co.uk
Helen Knowles, “Birth with Orgasm” (image courtesy of the artist and GV Art gallery)
Hyper-real images that question cultural attitudes towards women and childbirth form part of a new exhibition opening today.
The show at the GV Art gallery by Helen Knowles, Private View: Public Birth, features both figurative and abstract images of women “in the transcendental state of birth”; Knowles founded the Birth Rites Collection in 2008, the first collection of contemporary art dedicated to the subject.
Knowles has used screen grabs from YouTube videos to show women at the crowning stage of birth, when the baby’s head beings to emerge. By using footage from social media platforms – films usually reserved for private viewing – Knowles hopes to question the discomfort some audiences have with certain images.
The Birthing of Azheyo Aeoro (Image courtesy of artist and GV Art)
The concept is a refreshing and thought-provoking one. Most public perceptions of new mothers involve images of immaculately groomed famous women whose bodies magically snap back into place and while “beautiful” is a word often used to describe babies, it’s rarely associated with birth itself (and certainly not linked to images of the birth process).
Yet the pieces of work on display in today’s exhibition are intriguing and often ethereal, reflecting notions of female strength.
* Private View: Public Birth, a curatorial collaboration between Poppy Bowers and Helen Knowles, runs from 16-22 September at the GV Art gallery, Marylebone, London.
Building relationships with children at risk of care helps keep them at home (pic Includem/Warren Media).
The fate of children in care in Scotland has recently his the headlines; care leavers need more support, say experts, if their life chances are to improve. And today Michael Gove has criticised the care home system in England. But what if some vulnerable children could be prevented from going into care in the first place? In a joint guest post, Daniel* and the support worker who helped him describe how a Scottish community-based alternative to custody and secure care helped him turn his life around.
Daniel*, 21, describes how he was supported by the charity Includem:
“I don’t even know if I would be alive had it not been for Includem. I was drinking all the time and taking drugs, valium, cannabis, ecstasy. I was fighting a lot with my mum and other people and ‘doing turns’ – theft, breaking and entering offences – to get money to spend on food and clothes. Things started to go wrong when I left primary school and when I was about 12.
I had a bad relationship with my mum – we argued all the time – and I was constantly getting thrown out of the house. I had nowhere to go so ended up on the streets. I was always in front of children’s panels and going into temporary care and then home again.
I wasn’t happy and could see that this [drinking and taking drugs] wasn’t the right thing to do but it was what was happening in my life at the time. I felt guilty about what I was doing. I wanted things to change but didn’t now how to make changes. I wanted things to be normal and to have a normal family life.
A social worker referred me to Includem; I worked with a few project workers until I clicked with my project worker who became the person who I felt I could work with. We spoke about goals and how to get there and how I was worthy of a better life.
My worker helped me when things were really bad at home; I could call the helpline at any time and Includem would come out and talk to me and my mum and make it ok for me to stay at home. They would meet with me at times when no one else would be able to – at the weekend, when I needed them I would contact the helpline and they would be there.
Includem helped me stay at home and they helped me get into training and never gave up on me. I respected them and they respected me. I felt hopeful that things could be different. They helped with all sorts of things – planning how to spend money on food and clothes to helping with how to deal with bad situations at home and how to get training to help to get a job.
They were there through everything – even during the night – when I lived at home, when I was homeless and then moving into my own place. They made me think that I was worthwhile.
Before I would just go out and steal things to sell so that I could buy new clothes. I learnt how to save money and how to spend it on food so that I would last. They taught me how to deal with situations with my mum – how to walk away from violent situations and how to stay calm.
Things changed for me because my worker listened and respected me so I trusted and listened to my worker. I got on with her and established a relationship – I started to feel hopeful that things could change. Includem listened and didn’t give up on me, even at the start when I didn’t want to work with them.
Now I live with my daughter and girlfriend and I have my own home. I try hard to be a good dad that my daughter can be proud of – I want her to feel loved and cared for and safe. I want a routine for my family and my daughter and I am trying to find a job.”
Karen McCulloch, Includem project worker, on how she supported Daniel:
“Daniel was referred to Includem at the age of 15 due to his drug and alcohol misuse, anger, aggression, and difficult family relationships. He was a persistent high tariff offender and was facing homelessness due to a chaotic relationship with his mother.
When we meet a young person for the first time we listen to what they have to say and let them know what we can offer. We talk through their lives and identify the areas that aren’t working the way they should and start to look at how these could get better. We identity goals and talk to them about A Better Life – a unique toolkit that we use. We let them know we will meet them on a frequent basis and that we will plan normal social activities where we can meet and talk.
We let them know we put them first and they can trust us – that we want the best for them. Often this is a first for young people who haven’t had proper care in their lives or someone to talk to and look out for them.
We gave Daniel intensive support in managing his anger, including practical support on issues such as how to remove himself from volatile situations. Daniel’s relationship with his mother was difficult, and Includem worked with her to set clear and consistent boundaries within the home.
Daniel and his mother used Includem’s 24 hour helpline, not only at times of crisis but for advice and support. Includem supported Daniel for whilst he was on an electronic tag, a period in secure care for his own safety, and voluntary transitional support into adulthood. Throughout this time, Includem supported and liaised with Daniel’s mother to maintain their relationship.
Daniel didn’t gel with his first project worker so we changed workers to someone that Daniel clicked with. Our model is relationship based therefore we are flexible and will try different workers with different young people for the right relationship to be established.
My first visit to meet Daniel was on a Friday night when Daniel was out with his care home – Daniel had none of his own clothes so I went to his home and picked these up and took them to him. We visited him throughout the weekend and supported him. We talked about ways to change things – and assured Daniel that his life could change with the right support and direction. We put a plan in place that we would work through together in order to meet outcomes.
We started to see real changes. We taught Daniel to listen to his “inner speak” – the voice within that said he deserved a better life and that he could make it happen. When he started to realise that he did deserve better, and how to achieve it, things started to change.
Daniel used the 24/7 helpline regularly as a support – he would phone if he had been thrown out of the house or was in trouble. He would call if he was arguing with his mother – on one occasion an Includem worker would be speaking to Daniel on the phone in one room, another would be speaking to his mother on the phone in another room and a worker would be driving to the house to help calm the situation face to face.
Daniel would forget basic things such as when to eat as sometimes he was living between people’s houses – we would remind him that this was essential and give him practical support on what to eat and how to budget his money. We would plan our contact visits with him around when he would receive money and would take him to the supermarket and show him how to spend the money wisely and make it last.
Daniel moved into his own home under a mainstream tenancy at 19 (he is now 21), and is in a settled relationship and doing well. He has created his own family – he and his girlfriend have a baby, and there is no social work involvement with the family at all. Daniel has accrued no court charges or pending court charges for fouryears. He’s very keen to get a job. His partner is looking to start college and his main aim is to build on his progress and continue to provide a happy and loving environment for his child and partner.
We have a “scaffold of support” in place – a team of three – a project worker, an assistant project worker and a mentor – assigned to each young person so that they can build links and relationships with more than one person. Every service we provide is unique for that young person – we fit our service to them, not the other way round.
Among our successful outcomes is the fact that 90% of young people we worked with in a project with Strathclyde police reduced their violent offending. And with 72% of referrals from the Clackmannanshire area, Includem prevented family or community placement breakdown.
The biggest challenge is usually at the outset when young people are wary of accepting help and opening up about issues. Another challenge is actually meeting up with young people on planned visits at the start– often they don’t turn up for planned meetings and we have to go looking for them.
You learn to be creative in situations like this – finding solutions to challenges such as this and others – and speaking to colleagues for advice and ideas in order to make contact. We constantly refer to our A Better Life toolkit for support and advice.
Includem operates 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. We accept any referrals via social work departments, courts and police. We never turn any vulnerable young person away – no matter what their situation is and how chaotic it may be.
‘Stickability’ is a word we have coined – it’s a key part of our service and is at the heart of what we do – we are persistent, we won’t give up on a young person and we will stick with them at all times during the support we give them.”
Raffle ticket seller Raana Salman at the Lantern Community open dayI’ve never thought of my sister, above, as a saleswoman – she can be engaging, encouraging, persuasive and talkative, but she’s never actually sold me anything other than an idea (usually about what film to watch; invariably a Bond movie).
So my family and I were impressed – and proud – to see Raana in marketing mode (above, resplendent with pot for raffle ticket cash) for the first time on Saturday (scroll down for a gallery of snapshots).
We spent the day with Raana at a fundraising fete and open day at the Lantern Community in Ringwood, Hampshire, where she lives and works.
Raana, along with some of her peers, formed a veritable raffle mafia – but not only was parting with cash in a good cause, it was impossible to say no when the ticket sellers assured you “this one’s a winner!” (this was clearly a sales spiel – neither I nor anyone in my family won a single thing…).
The open day in the Lantern’s grounds – with flowers, plants and fruit and veg in early autumnal bloom, stalls, food and live music – marked the opening of a new house, Silver Birches, for adults with learning disabilities. The day was also a celebration of the charity merger between the Lantern and Seahorses. Seahorses is four-star holiday accommodation on the Isle of Wight run by, with and for people with disabilities (as well as for those without) – a B&B with a bonus, as I explained in a recent Guardian piece.
From the fruit, vegetables and plants on sale and display to the bakery produce and the range of arts and crafts including pottery and woodwork, the day showcased the talents of a creative and inspiring group of people. And one of them, running from stall to stall with a book of pink tickets and a broad smile, refusing to stop to chat to me (“I’m busy! I’m working!”), was my saleswoman of a sister.
Talking to my eight-year-old daughter about the fact I was going to blog about our day with Raana, she immediately suggested a title for the story. It’s so neat and accurate, I think it rounds off the post and sums up the event perfectly: The Lantern Stars.
Daniel*, 21, describes how he was supported by the charity 
Karen McCulloch, Includem project worker, on how she supported Daniel:
