Canary in the Coalmine.

It is a gorgeous day. High blue hanging tapestry of sky with crisp, cold air just enough to make your breath mist as you shout obscenities at the government. Not that we would of course. Most of us haven’t go that much breath to waste, confined as some of us are in wheelchairs or strapped into various bits of engineered exoskeleton, hanging on to guide dog harnesses or canes or friends or a combination thereof. For many of us just moving forward makes us gasp for air.

David C

The police mill around looking sheepish. ‘They are just here in case the rowdy element kick off,’ I say to my friend C as she surveys the frail looking folk in their assistance scooters. ‘That guy in particular,’ I whisper, pointing to a dummy in a wheelchair ( noooo... I am NOT doing a Ricky Gervais. It is an actual dummy) with a David Cameron mask on. Oddly, as people pass it they make little signs with their hands that look suspiciously like ‘warding off devil’ signs...if a ‘warding off devil’ sign involves an extended middle finger.


The lovely folk in the lead make us practice chanting before we set off. For 99% of us, shouting for anything is an entirely new experience. Most people with an impairment or a chronic illness are quietly stoic. The older generation in particular often settle into that ‘Blitz’ mentality of ‘keeping calm and carrying on.’ But now keeping calm and carrying on might kill you. Certainly it will lead to further exclusion and greater poverty. It is with a shocking sadness that we are rallying, accused of ‘scrounging’ of ‘leaching off the state’ and ignored almost entirely by a society warped by the recession.

The Disabled are Revolting!

‘Shout louder!’ we are told and we do, until our timidity disintegrates and we are ready.


The march route is short and takes us from the central park though a corner of the cathedral forum, with the wonderful library to the left and back to the park again. We chant lustily at about a dozen tourists, several irritated shoppers and a murder of crows that are looking rather too intensely at a few of the limping stragglers in our group.


What do we want?


Equal rights!


When do we want them?


Now!

Cath, me and Tim amongst the rabble1

Every time I shout ‘equal rights!’ I feel emotion rise up my sternum and drum on my heart.

Grace!

We try to shout loudly enough to disturb the rest of Norwich city but most of them have disappeared off to the Top Gear Road Show that is blasting pop tunes from behind the shopping centre. Ironically, there is probably more engineering technology in amongst the blinged up wheelchairs and motorised scooters in out raggedy group, but, undefeated we shuffle and skip, roll and scramble back to the park and listen to the speakers tell us not to give up. To fight on for compassion and equality. To fight on for fairness.


‘I am blind, my husband in visually impaired. I have two visually impaired children,’ says B. ‘I work hard and I want my kids to have every opportunity. Last year, we had a special bus service and I paid £250 getting the kids to school. Now the service has been cut and we have to find over £2000 a year. How?’


Her son stands up. ‘I want to go to university. The fees are so high now that most kids are having problems finding the basics. Given I would also need additional equipment, transport and access finance I am immediately excluded.’


Another woman with cerebral palsy, asthma and learning difficulties says her care has been cut from 10 to 3 hours a week. She still needs the care though.’


Other people talk about being excluded, passed over, dismissed, and judged useless. The changes in benefits, cuts to services, rescinding of the basic mobility component of the DLA means that more and more of us are unable to get out of the door, let alone to work. There are no good stories. Only one MEP has sent a message of support. In the distance the duff duff bass sound from the Top Gear Road Show wafts over briefly and disappears like a bad smell.


‘Was it a good march?’ my friend asks when I get back.


‘It was a beautiful day,’ I must admit. ‘But no. No, there was nothing good about such a march.’

My placard with thanks to Munch.

Only a few generations ago, in another recession, in another part of the world, people with disabilities and illness were called parasites too by a government propaganda machine. No one stood up and shouted. The government of the time felt vindicated and their second phase involved wide scale sterilisation. Again, very few people in the society of the time reacted. The government smiled and ticked the next box and we were the first to be exterminated. We, the disabled, were the canary in the coal mine. We still are.

Rabid

What is it with people? The next person who puts on a baby voice and asks me if I am ‘excited about getting my doggie-woggie’ I shall bite on the nose. Savagely.

I presume you don’t get this kind of patronisation when you first get a wheel chair ‘Ohhh you must be sooo excited about getting your wheelie-beelie.’

In case you may still be confused about why taking on a guide dog is emotionally more complex then just ‘getting a doggie- woggie’ please imagine being suddenly handed a toddler to care for over several years. Then cover your eyes with several layers of cling film, Vaseline and glitter and try changing a nappy. In fact the next person who even thinks ‘doggie woggie’ near me I shall wrap in cling film and dirty nappies… breathing out…feeling better….

Of course there have been many more of you, thank god, who have been incredibly astute and useful with your insights – and with your silent support ....and I certainly don’t mind the barrage of canine related and ap-paw-ing puns flooding my phone (a horrendous amount may I say from my dad) and I can only say thank you. Your support is essential and I am so grateful.

On an entirely different note, …well its not at all entirely. Only if I am grumpy this woman is f++=ing furious. This is a fascinating opening gambit in the equality debate from Disability Bitch’s Blog. http://www.bbc.co.uk/ouch/opinion/b1tch/db_vs_negative_politicians.shtml

Disability Bitch logo (BBC)

It’s about Obama’s recent speech on equality and disability. She ain't impressed....

Remember that chances are we will all be disabled in our lives at one point or another..even if that is just a leg in a cast for several weeks, temporary deafness from an ear infection, chronic back pain from a slipped disc, old age...or various forms of blindness to the rest of humanity.

It comes to all of us.

'Twist' Self Portrait: (c) T. Bush 2008