a little history.. i worked for a while in a group home with four awesome teenagers who were profoundly disabled and a whole heap of in-house politics.
throughout this time, and since, i got really sick of the following:
people who see the chair and think the lights are on but no-one's home.
i was in a chemist with one of the boys, and this really nosy woman came up to me and without so much as a hello, started harping on about how sad it is to see a young life so tragically hindered. the kid blew the biggest raspberry at her (like the spit-flying-thunderous type). all i could do was say 'well, i think he speaks for the both of us' and walk away in hysterics. her face was PRICELESS!
people who think that they're heroes for working with disabled people. (this is not to say that there aren't heroes out there, but that heroes do more than turn up every day)
one of the ladies i worked with, who i never liked, invited her middle-aged daughter to meet the kids. she told us her daughter was interested in working in disabilities, but her reaction to the kids proved that to be a big, fat lie (she looked at them like they were **** on her shoe), and it was pretty clear my collegue was just trying to show what a good person she thought she was, working with those poor, helpless kids. i nearly threw up in my tea listening to her go on in her most compassionate voice about how they needed her to do everything for them, but oh, it was so nice to be able to give them a decent life.
making a spectacle of already distinctive kids.
took the guys shopping, and out basic rule was when the kids are out, they leave their chest-plates (like upper-body seatbelts that held them up straight) because, well, people stared enough without us making the kids look even less able by visibly strapping them in. anyway, this day, the lady pushing our only girl's chair didn't take off her chest-plate, and then when it got cold, she couldn't be bothered undoing it, so put the girl's jacket on hher backwards, with the big fluffy collar under her chin. she then proceeded to make up the poor kid like a barbie doll. we made her take off her own jacket, put it on backwards and walk about for a while like it.
people who presume the kids have miserable lives.
my nan said to me once 'it must be heartbreaking, seeing the poor children like that. do you ever cry?'. my response? 'are you kidding? have you ever tried out one of those chairs?' honest. we got the kids out of their chairs and onto the lawn, and while they were enjoying the feeling of grass, we tried out the electric chairs. the kids thought it was hilarious, and we had so much fun..
people who dress disabled kids like, well, retards.
(i want to point out, i use the word retard only to describe the appearance i mean)
on christmas day, we each had one kid to wash, dress, feed and get ready to go to their parents' place. one colleague (the same one who brought her daughter in), dressed her boy in a dress shirt, board shorts, long socks and black dress shoes, and couldn't understand why we wanted her to go back and change him. she flatly refused, and i did it myself.
similarly, the only time i ever did cry at work is when we took the boys to get haircuts, and the barber had no patience with them, was forcibly pushing on their heads to keep them still, while the kids were crying and i was holding their hands, crying right along, and all three boys came out with the same 'retard' haircut. short back and sides, longer on top, combed down flat down on their foreheads. we went straight to the chemist, got a hairgel tester and messed them up!
adults who stare.
i didn't mind if kids stared, i mean, they're only kids, and our guys look different, but adults should know better!
community nurses who repeatedly call kids in their own home 'patients', special education teachers who call pads 'nappies', and parents wo feel so guilty about their child's disability (child acquired disability in early childhood) that they never visit, or even send birthday presents.
kid went to his key worker's house for christmas, parents declined to have him.
ah... that's my whinge, thanks for reading.
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i feel a rant coming on... things that p*** me off!
