Have a look at this article on social inclusion at festivals, particularly the point about the segregation of "disabled" facilities from facilities for everyone else. True inclusion facilitates everyone and segregates no-one.
In fact, the phrase "disabled parking" is a misnomer - parking cannot be disabled, can it? "Wheelchair parking" is another one - I'm sure someone somewhere has come up with a great cartoon about that! In fact, just google 'wheelchair parking cartoon' and click on images and you'll find a few.
Kudos to Inis Oirr's "Drop Everything" festival by the way.
This blog is written by three ordinary parents of extraordinary children with disabilities, from autism to cerebral palsy. We love and respect our children and hope they will lead happy lives in communities of their choosing - we are helping them on that journey. We share with you our inspiring ideas, thoughts and experiences.
Showing posts with label inclusion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label inclusion. Show all posts
Saturday, 7 July 2012
Monday, 4 June 2012
"You and I"
A very thought-provoking piece by Elaine Popovich.
I am a resident. You reside.
I am admitted. You move in.
I am aggressive. You are assertive.
I have behavior problems. You are rude.
I am noncompliant. You don't like being told what to do.
When I ask you out for dinner, it is an outing. When you ask someone out, it is a date.
I made mistakes during my check-writing program. Some day I might get a bank account. You forgot to record some withdrawals from your account. The bank called to remind you.
I wanted to talk with the nice-looking person behind us at the grocery store. I was told that it is inappropriate to talk to strangers. You met your spouse in the produce department. Neither of you could find the bean sprouts.
I celebrated my birthday yesterday with five other residents and two staff members. I hope my family sends a card. Your family threw you a surprise party. Your brother couldn't make it from out of state. It sounded wonderful!
My case manager sends a report every month to my guardian. It says everything I did wrong and some things I did right. You are still mad at your sister for calling your Mom after you got that speeding ticket.
I am learning household skills. You hate housework.
I am learning leisure skills. Your shirt says you are a "Couch Potato."
After I do my budget program tonight, I might get to go to McDonald's if I have enough money. You were glad that the new French restaurant took your charge card.
My case manager, psychologist, R. N., occupational and physical therapist, nutritionist and house staff set goals for me for the next year. You haven't decided what you want out of life.
Someday I will be discharged . . . maybe. You will move onward and upward.
I am a resident. You reside.
I am admitted. You move in.
I am aggressive. You are assertive.
I have behavior problems. You are rude.
I am noncompliant. You don't like being told what to do.
When I ask you out for dinner, it is an outing. When you ask someone out, it is a date.
I made mistakes during my check-writing program. Some day I might get a bank account. You forgot to record some withdrawals from your account. The bank called to remind you.
I wanted to talk with the nice-looking person behind us at the grocery store. I was told that it is inappropriate to talk to strangers. You met your spouse in the produce department. Neither of you could find the bean sprouts.
I celebrated my birthday yesterday with five other residents and two staff members. I hope my family sends a card. Your family threw you a surprise party. Your brother couldn't make it from out of state. It sounded wonderful!
My case manager sends a report every month to my guardian. It says everything I did wrong and some things I did right. You are still mad at your sister for calling your Mom after you got that speeding ticket.
I am learning household skills. You hate housework.
I am learning leisure skills. Your shirt says you are a "Couch Potato."
After I do my budget program tonight, I might get to go to McDonald's if I have enough money. You were glad that the new French restaurant took your charge card.
My case manager, psychologist, R. N., occupational and physical therapist, nutritionist and house staff set goals for me for the next year. You haven't decided what you want out of life.
Someday I will be discharged . . . maybe. You will move onward and upward.
Labels:
contrasting lives,
disability,
inclusion,
resident
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