Imagine the anxiety of knowing you are at a greater risk of dying from the Coronavirus but are at the back of the queue for a life-saving vaccination and, if hospitalised, doctors might decide not to save your life.
This is what learning disabled people are facing in this pandemic. They are the hardest hit, yet the impact on their mental health is being overlooked.
I wrote this article for Byline Times on how the government is ignoring the impact of Covid on learning disabled people like my sister Raana.
Covid-19 exacerbates existing barriers to inclusion for disabled people. Image: RSA
Debates about Covid-19 recovery and economic renewal ignore disabled people. This is shameful given that even before the virus, the UK’s 7.7 million working-age disabled people already faced significant inequalities.
Raana (left) with me at her 30th birthday last year. She lives in supported living in Hampshire.
Most of us are now emerging from lockdown and acclimatising to the “new normal” we find ourselves living in. From this week, we can go to a beauty salon or gym, and care homes visits are on the horizon.
But my learning disabled sister, Raana, is untouched by the easing of restrictions. Raana lives in supported living, in a shared house in Hampshire with help from care staff during the day. Thanks to a lack of any government guidance on coronavirus for supported living, she’s living in a parallel universe.
Without clear rules on what she should or should not be doing, her carers are – understandably – keeping tight restrictions on her movements. Raana is in lockdown limbo.
I decided to create a mini-gallery of crowdsourced crafts and art from the gorgeous images I received. It features homemade treasures from learning disabled people and their families; Raana’s Happy Art Gallery can be viewed here.
The gems in Raana’s gallery include abstracts, flowers, faces, figures, animals, colour – all made and shared with love. Thanks to all the amazing people and organisations who sent happy art and messages on Twitter and Instagram – I’ve spent the best part of a week gazing in happy distraction at the gallery.
Raana messaged me a characteristically short but accurate verdict about the art share: “that good” and then “very kind”.
Everyone struggles with working from home – from managing conference calls to difficulties with Zoom – but imagine what it must be like if you are deaf or have difficulty hearing.
New research by the charity Action on Hearing Loss found that three-quarters of people who live with deafness fear they will be less productive working from home.
My Guardian report explores the barriers and solutions for deaf employees and highlights the work at the Centre for Deaf Education at City Lit college.
City Lit student and deaf mental health worker Ilyaas Cader explains the impact of not being able to communicate in his first language (sign), and calls for greater use of sign language.
Raana, left, on her 30th birthday in June last year. My family doesn’t know if we can celebrate with her this year.
My sister has a learning disability and I can’t visit her because of coronavirus.
Coronavirus has made enforced separation a universal experience, but there are additional and far-reaching challenges for learning disabled people and their families. I cannot visit my youngest sister, Raana, who has fragile X syndrome and lives in supported housing in Hampshire. My family has no idea when we will next see her.
Social distancing, self-isolation and a lockdown for the over-70s will have a seismic impact on Raana (our parents are in their 70s, our father has a lung condition). My sister’s social contact is now limited to support workers paid to care for her and her learning disabled housemates. She uses text messaging but dislikes phone calls and writing letters.
Raana thrives on consistency and routine, including dance classes, baking workshops and weekly shopping. Yet coronavirus means services are closing and people’s movements are restricted. Online equivalents are not the same and do not always appeal if you have communication difficulties. What will happen if her trusted support staff fall ill or she has to self-isolate? What if she needs help with personal care?
The 1.5 million learning disabled people in the UK are already among society’s most segregated people. Communities must not forget them, as I write in this Guardian piece.
