I recently visited a low-secure unit for teenage girls, most of whom have autism. It is surrounded by grounds bigger than my local park.
However, the girls often cannot go out in it because they may need to be accompanied and there aren’t enough staff.
The organisation claims that it doesn’t have enough money to provide a sensory room. It also says staff turnover is so high that the girls have only a shred of the specialist support that has been identified as vital to their recovery.
Of course, being able to walk in a tree-lined, manicured garden is good for mental health but surely, without decent staffing, it’s pretty worthless?
If the people who need the support are spending most of their time indoors because there are not enough trained staff to keep them safe outside, or there are not enough specialist skills available among employees to put a decent behaviour management plan in place, it’s hardly worth it.
With such limited financial resources, isn’t it time for everyone to realise that the public purse needs to focus on upskilling and paying for good-quality staffing within the sector rather than keeping local landscapers in business?
Mistake or ploy?
I have power of attorney for a relative and can, therefore, sign legal agreements on their behalf.
I’ve had to argue, sometimes at length, with so-called professionals who have been putting pressure on me into signing things that just aren’t correct.
At one point, after repeatedly explaining the difference between an attorney and representative to a care home manager, she told me that “we’ve filled this in the way we always do it and no one else has made such a fuss”.
When I escalated the situation, her manager told me that it’s sometimes difficult for people to understand the complexity of a power of attorney so there was always going to be the odd mistake.
The impact of this “mistake” would have made me personally responsible for picking up care home fees if the relative’s money ran out. It makes me wonder whether it was a mistake at all.
Hidden horrors in legal advice
Over the past year, I’ve spent many an evening studying with Belinda Schwehr from CASCAIDr on her professionals’ course, primarily concentrating on the Care Act and how we can best support people with disabilities to ensure that their legal rights are observed.
The complexities of the Care Act are brilliantly unpicked and explained by her and at least I now know what I don’t know.
What’s shocked me most, however, is realising what poor legal advice I have been given.
I now believe that much of the advice I have received from in-house solicitors in both local authorities and providers has been based on a risk assessment of how little the service user and their family will know and therefore how much the provider and/or the council can get away with. It’s frightening stuff.
Strictly for all
Reality competition shows have taken valuable steps to challenge the public perception of ability.
Age and race have not been significant barriers to winning in the reality TV world. It’s been more than 10 years since we first saw Heather Mills, who is an amputee, on Dancing on Ice and, since then, many people with visible and invisible disabilities have been given opportunities to work with committed and creative professionals in such competitions.
All of these contestants have raved about how excited they have been to step up to the plate.
Last year, it was proven that same-sex couples can, in fact, dance and skate together without the world stopping on its axis and, this year, we have seen the amazing Rose Ayling-Ellis on Strictly Come Dancing, who has shown us that deaf people can dance.
Will the producers ever be brave enough to consider one of the many successful people with a learning disability a big enough celebrity to offer them a spot?
