Rules Are There To Be Improved
Once I was three years old. The local nursery refused me on the grounds of my disability stretching their limited resources. Luckily my mum is a kind, loving, take-no-shit kinda lady. She explained how most of the other kids were still pooping everywhere, and despite being in a wheelchair I was potty trained. Plus it was my right to attend a mainstream nursery.
They improved the rules.
Once I was nine years old. My non disabled friends and I played football from morning to night. Everyday. I used my electric wheelchair to deflect the ball. Over time I was able to pass and shoot accurately, using the power already on the ball and positioning my chair correctly.
We used to play at the local leisure centre in the summer holidays. We’d play the other teams and eventually a winner would emerge. One rule of five-a-side football is you cannot go in the area. I wasn’t able to propel the ball far enough. So I asked the referee for permission to enter the area, as long as I didn’t block or harm the goalkeeper.
With my step brothers accurate passing and my back post positioning; I finished top scorer!
They improved the rules.
Once I was sixteen years old. I could read, think and write like everyone else. Except I wrote a bit slower. This was going to harm my ability to showcase my intelligence in my GCSE exams.
Fortunately the exam boards acknowledged that disabled people needed reasonable adjustments. So I was allowed 25% extra time. To compensate for my physical struggles. As a result I received 1 A*, 2 As, 5B’s and 1 C.
They improved the rules.
Once I was 22 years old. Having graduated from university, I got a job, moved to London and started to live my childhood dreams. The career. The concerts. The relationships. However the Local Authority responsible for my care funding said they would fund only a few hours of care per day.
I’d be stuck. No assistance for food. No assistance for drink. No assistance to use the toilet. I’d have to quit my job. Move home. Unlive the dream.
Through the kind help of an advocate and sheer determination we argued for more funding. After multiple letters, phone calls, and meetings; my funding was approved. I lived the dream!
They improved the rules.
Once I was 33 years old. In fact I am now 33 years old. There’s still lots of rules stopping me from living the life I want to. At least living it as easily as others do.
There’s many buildings that are inaccessible. There’s many weird stereotypes that cause people to discriminate against me. There’s many organisational and governmental policies stopping me from accessing every day life.
In essence. In 2016. Inclusion is still not for everyone.
The good news. If I’ve changed the rules before, I can do it again. More so - you can too. If everybody calls out injustice when they spot it, eventually the world can be inclusive.
Let’s keep improving the rules.
Martyn Sibley writes about living life with a disability, and consults with organisations on inclusion. He’s Co Founder of Disability Horizons/United/Academy. Plus he’s trying his arm at some fiction writing. You can also read more about his adventure travels on his blog.
