Giving people a voice in their history

In our series introducing historians working in the growing field of learning disability history we meet one of its pioneers, Professor Jan Walmsley. Co-author of numerous books and articles combining oral history with archival research, Jan explains how, and why, she has supported people with learning disabilities and their families to have a voice in telling their own history.

 

I currently hold the honorary title of Professor in the History of Learning Disability at the Open University. As far as I know I am unique in this respect, though I am sure I’ll soon have company as the subject is becoming increasingly popular.

 

This was not the case in the mid-1980s when I first became interested. I took a degree in history, graduating in 1971, then by a complicated set of events, found myself project managing a learning package called ‘Mental Handicap Patterns for Living’ at the Open University in 1985. It was my first real exposure to learning disability and I was quite surprised at the content. It all seemed so obvious. Why did it need an education package to persuade people that people with ‘mental handicaps’ should enjoy an ordinary life? To me, an outsider, it was obvious. But of course it was not obvious, because of the past.

 

This is what sparked my interest. When did day centres start? What was the history of hostels? Why create a learning package to teach the obvious? I started reading, but could not find the answers.

 

In 1990 I began a PhD. I interviewed women and a few men with learning disabilities about ‘caring’. To be able to ask the right questions, I set about reconstructing the history of services in Bedfordshire where my respondents lived. In the course of this I met an inspiring woman, Rene Harris, who had started Luton Mencap in 1955. I owe much to Rene whose moving stories brought the subject to life. I also spent two weeks in the Bedfordshire Record Office with its amazing collection of archives relating to twentieth century history. The two experiences taught me that to understand the recent past you need both good oral informants and a sound knowledge of written sources.

 

I am proud to have contributed to a growing interest in the subject. In 1994 Dorothy Atkinson and I started the Social History of Learning Disability Research Group at the Open University which has helped put the subject on the map. It remains dedicated to hearing from different stakeholders, including family carers, staff, and people with learning disabilities, as well as academic historians, to create a rounded picture of the past.

 

My most recent project has been gathering staff memories of working at Princess Marina Hospital in Northamptonshire, asking what that can teach us about good practice.

 

Underlying themes

Why does it matter that we remember the past? My sense is that policy has lurched from institutions to community care to personalisation today. Each time we repudiate the past, believing they were wrong, that we know better. But people who cannot meet our expectations of independent adulthood continue to challenge us, as they did our ancestors. And many underlying themes remain the same. Parents still worry about what will happen when they die, as did Rene Harris. Institutions continue under a different name. Scandals still happen. Just changing the words in policy does not change the underlying challenges. Recognising this should help us manage the present better.