Tag: equality

International Disabilities Day: Cuts to Disabled Student’s Allowance

On By elinIn Accessibility, Disability, Student life, University1 Comment

Why I’m against cuts to DSA
In light of today being International Disabilities Day, I wanted to share my thoughts on the issue of the UK government’s current plans to cut government funding for the non-medical help supplied by Disabled Student’s Allowance (DSA). 
This morning I read this article which brought the issue to the forefront of my mind again:

http://www.theguardian.com/education/2015/dec/02/government-to-cut-funding-disabled-university-students-jo-johnson
In this article Jo Johnson, the Minister for universities and science announces that from next September onwards, higher education institutions will be expected to pay for non-medical support for students with disabilities and that funding for specialist technology and adapted accommodation will be reduced.
Upon reading this article, I couldn’t help imagining how different my university experience could’ve been if I’d chosen to start my degree in September 2016 instead of 2013. 
How has DSA helped me?
Before starting my degree in English Literature in 2013, I used DSA to purchase a range of accessibility technology including a laptop, a scanner and software, a screen reader, a Dictaphone and a braille display. My laptop and screen reader is technology that I quite literally could not study a degree without; I access all my course material electronically and I’m able to complete all my assignments and exams independently using this technology. All of this essential equipment alone cost more than £5000.
I’ve also use DSA to fund non-medical support throughout my three year degree programme. This includes note-takers who write notes for me in lectures and who type them up in an accessible format for me in their own time. It also includes my research assistant who helps me access books/inaccessible materials that I need to complete my course, often spending hours manually scanning book chapters into electronic formats and helping me navigate the often complicated and almost always inaccessible online library. Additionally, during my first and part of my second year, non-medical help funding was used to pay for my mobility on campus. This was essential in enabling my independence and wellbeing, as being able to orient myself independently gives me much more freedom rather than having to rely on sighted guides. 
How would cutting DSA affect me?
If my university weren’t able to fund the non-medical help available to me through DSA I would be unable to:
• Take notes in class – I can’t listen to the lecturer, follow the handout with my screen reader and take notes all at the same time.

• Access course materials– If I was required to adapt all my course materials myself, I’d have no time to write my assignments, let alone have a social life (that is assuming I’d have the technology to do my own scanning).

• Complete required reading – I’m studying English literature, so without my library assistant scanning chapters and sometimes whole books for me I simply wouldn’t be able to study my course.

• Complete my assignments – without the notes from my lectures, completing the required reading, accessing course materials and having the ability to source secondary texts, how could I possibly write an essay or exam?

• Write a dissertation – without my research assistant supporting me in the library and sourcing accessible materials, I would be unable to complete an 8000 word piece of work comprising entirely of individual research, which is a required part of my degree.

• Get around campus independently – no mobility training would’ve deprived me from familiarising myself with campus consequentially restricting me from attending lectures, participating in clubs/societies and orienting myself independently.
DSA has been utterly essential in making my degree as inclusive and accessible as possible. The support that DSA has enabled me to access is something that I, nor my family, would ever been able to source from our own pockets and without being able to access that financial support,, I can say with absolute certainty that it would have been virtually impossible for me to obtain a degree.
Why is DSA, and getting a degree, so important to me?
I wanted to get a degree because I want the best chance possible of getting a job, building a career and making a life for myself. I have worked damn hard during these last couple of years to make the most of the opportunity given to me because I fully appreciate that without the support and resources available, like DSA, it would be impossible for someone like me to even consider attending University. It’s been difficult, draining and almost unbearable at times; my mental health has suffered and I’ve contemplated quitting more than once. But I’m still here and I am determined to come out of this with a first. 
Why? Because I read somewhere once that a disabled person with a degree is about as likely to be employed as your average Jo with standard GCSE’s. If that’s true, I don’t really want to contemplate what my chances of getting a job would be without any HE qualifications. Contrary to a depressingly common misconception, most people with disabilities wouldn’t prefer to be unemployed. Living off benefits, without a purpose or anything to get up for in the morning is not the life I want for myself. I want a career; I want success; I want to prove that I, and others like me, can do absolutely anything in spite of our differences. For me, the best way I feel I can achieve this is by getting a degree. And the cold, hard truth of it is that without support like DSA that would be impossible. 
What does cutting DSA funding mean to me?
Cutting government funding for disabled University students is to deprive us of our right to education, our right to equal opportunities and our right to shape our own futures. The quality of support available to students with disabilities is already so varied among establishments that expecting Universities to fit the bill of non-medical support is an unrealistic expectation that can only lead to even more inconsistency. . I fear that this is only the first step towards bigger and more damaging cuts to provisions for students with disabilities in the future and I believe that it’s a mark of how disconnected our current government is from the realities of what it’s like for young people with disabilities living in the UK today that they would even contemplate this ridiculous course of action.

Defying the Label: Don’t Take My Baby on BBC3

On By elinIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

The first in BBC3’s Defying the Label series, the BBC website describes Don’t Take My Baby as a “factual drama which tells the story of a disabled couple’s agonising struggle to keep their new-born baby. Based on real-life testimony, this emotional tale will call viewers’ prejudices and beliefs about the disabled community and society as a whole into question, as we learn about a situation many disabled couples find themselves in as new parents.” Wheelchair bound Anna and partially-sighted Tom undergo months of constant scrutiny and suspicion from Social Services while they’re assessed on their capability to care for their daughter Danielle, all the time knowing that one slip could mean their baby girl being sent into foster care if the couple fail to prove themselves as fit parents. Defying the Label is a series showing a range of real life stories in a disabling world. 

Personally, Don’t Take My Baby made for pretty difficult viewing. I loved the brutal honesty of the programme, something which I think was largely achieved thanks to the shared authorship with which it was written. I could identify with Anna’s determination to exceed everyone’s low expectations as well as Tom’s reluctance to concede help. Things like the 2010 Equality Act and development in technology are undeniably making it easier for people like Anna, Tom and myself to live in 21st century society, but unfortunately, a lot of the time attitudes towards disability are sadly lagging behind the times. Obviously this attitude is going to have an impact on society’s perception of disabled parents. Most people don’t even believe it possible for disabled people to have sexual relationships, let alone have children. So I hope Don’t Take My Baby broke down some of those misconceptions.

 

“Sometimes you’re told that something’s impossible and that’s when you need to fight”

 

Anna’s condition meant that her life expectancy has always been uncertain, and the dangers of giving birth posed great risk for both mother and child. At various points throughout the programme reference was made to the risk that baby Danielle might inherit one or both of her parents conditions. All of these possibilities are such that obviously require great care and consideration, but should they diminish the couple’s right to make that decision? Instead of treating them as irresponsible and selfish, shouldn’t they be helped and supported in every way possible to ensure a happy ending for the family?

 

“No one’s perfect are they? As long as you do your best, that’s all you can do.”

 

The immediate assumption was that this couple would fail to care for their own baby, despite the fact that they manage to care for themselves and each other every day. They were scrutinised for months, their parenting skills being constantly marked and tested against somebody’s criteria of what a good parent should be. Why disabled parents, and disabled people shouldn’t, be allowed to make mistakes like everyone else? Because if we make mistakes, it’s seen as weakness.

 

“Do you mind if I call you social worker number 454?”

 

Anna and Tom were constantly watched, being made to feel like everybody were just waiting to catch them out. When Anna and Tom made mistakes, it seemed that they were just proving that everyone else were right in thinking that their disabilities make them weak, faulty and incapable. When Social Services didn’t think that Anna and Tom were capable of taking care of Danielle, they had to go above and beyond to do everything perfectly. They had to be perfect in order to prove that they were just as capable as anyone else. But the truth is that they’re just as human as anyone else too; they made mistakes, they got tired, they got emotional and frustrated and lashed out at those they cared about sometimes. The point is that they should’ve been allowed to make mistakes so that they could learn from them. They should’ve been allowed to ask for help without feeling like failures for not being able to do it on their own. They should’ve been allowed to be human.

 

“You make a choice whether you’re going to be defined by your condition.”

 

Social services defined Anna and Tom by their conditions, as society defines thousands of disabled people by their conditions every day. The truth is that our impairments aren’t what disable us; society is what disables us by being exclusive, discriminating and intolerant of us a lot of the time. We all have a choice whether to be defined by our conditions or not. We can sit back and concede the lowered expectations, pity and misunderstanding that we might be faced with on a regular basis, or we can decide to fight those stereotypes. Most schools and workplaces aren’t set up all readily accessible for any disability that someone might have, but that shouldn’t stop you trying to get an education or a job. It’s your choice We can choose to be defined by our actions, not our impairments. We can choose to be defined by what we do instead of what we are.

 

“It’s your life, live by your own rules. If you want to fly, go fly…you know?”

 

Anna and Tom chose not to be defined by their conditions; they chose not to be confined to the expectations that the Social Services, their families and the rest of society had of them, they chose to live their lives as they wanted. They chose to have a baby. As a result they were mistrusted, underestimated and treated with suspicion because of this choice. They were immediately labelled as unfit parents and were forced to prove themselves otherwise before being allowed to take their own baby home. Thankfully they were able to demonstrate themselves more than capable of caring for their daughter and were allowed to take their baby home. But for thousands others, this isn’t the case.

 

“I don’t trust it. For Dani’s sake, I don’t trust it.”

 

An estimated 3000 babies are removed from their disabled parents every year. Is that really because their parents aren’t fit to care for them, or because those with the power to make that decision don’t trust the parents enough to give them a chance?

 

“It’s difficult to judge what being a good parent actually means, don’t you think?”

 

It would’ve been an entirely different programme if Social Services had the approach of assessing what help they could offer Anna and Tom with childcare, rather than taking the approach of testing the couples parenting skills with the possibility of Danielle being taken away constantly looming over their heads. We’d live in an entirely different society if we were more open to assessing how we can adjust to help people, rather than expecting everyone to adjust to doing things the ‘normal’ way. If our collective perception of disability could be more positive, more open-minded, more accepting, then maybe Children’s Services wouldn’t have to make 11,000 decisions involving disabled parents every year.

 

You can watch Don’t Take My Baby on the BBC iPlayer and the rest of the programmes in the Defying the Label series every night this week at 9pm on BBC3.