Ninety days ago, we began counting down to the General Election 2015 by publishing a story everyday from a disabled person or a family with a disabled child. We want the public and politicians to get to know disabled people, so they understand them better.
Martin is a life-long Manchester United Fan and wanted to take all three of his son’s along to enjoy the football. One of his son’s uses a wheelchair. When Martin contacted Manchester United about their seating arrangements he couldn’t believe their response.
Many of you commented expressing your shock that such a wealthy club would treat disabled people in this way – some people even contacted Manchester United with their thoughts. The story was also picked up by the Daily Mail’s Manchester United team page.
We shared the story for International Women’s Day and our Facebook posts was soon inundated with stories of similar attitudes. Many of you spoke about financial pressures forcing you to return to work and the guilt that many are made to feel.
Jean has Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a painful condition which means she is prone to muscle tears and dislocated joints. She uses a wheelchair most of the time. Jean is an active campaigner for disability rights. In 2013 a bus driver refused to deploy the ramp to let her on a bus.
We frequently receive messages from people who have had bad experiences on public transport, so it was fantastic to be able to share Jean’s story where making a complaint led to an unexpectedly positive outcome.
The story had a huge response across social media with many people sharing their experiences of rude remarks and stares because their impairment wasn’t obvious. Ehlers-Danlos Support UK shared the message on their Facebook page.
Three years ago, I developed a motor neurone disorder. There’s no definite diagnosis, except that it will keep getting worse and that there is no treatment – a pretty grim prognosis.
In practical terms, it means that in three years I’ve gone from being able to do cartwheels and handsprings to needing a wheelchair to get more than a few paces.
I’m really independent – militantly independent, in fact – and while there are more and more things that I have to get help doing, I’m fighting it off for as long as possible.
Loss of control
For example, I really don’t like being pushed in my wheelchair. The only time I’ve ever allowed it was when we went off-roading, and I got my husband Phil to hang on to the wheelchair so I didn’t fall into a ditch!
But when I get on a train using the wheelchair ramp, I find that often the person assisting you starts pushing you up the ramp without asking. In other situations, I’ve even been moved out of the way without being asked.
It’s very strange – obviously people are trying to help, but it’s very dehumanising. It’s a bit like asking someone for directions, and them putting their hands on your shoulders and pushing you the right way, rather than telling you. It’s the loss of control that I find quite terrifying.
Assumptions people make
It’s automatically assumed that you’re not capable of doing things. The number of times I’ve spoken to someone in the street and mentioned work, and they’ve said, ‘You work?’
It’s even worse now that my condition has started to affect my speech. All of a sudden I get treated as if I’ve had 30 or 40 IQ points knocked off – and by people who never treated me like that before, which upsets me.
Unfortunately I’ve spent a lot of time off work and recently had to stop. This is mostly because my employer wasn’t prepared to make reasonable adjustments for me.
I’m not able to talk about it at the moment as I’m going through an employment tribunal, but it has been hugely stressful, and wasted a lot of my time during a period when I was in a much better physical state than I am now.
The attitude of too many people is that disability issues are all about benefits and illness.
Yes, many of us do need benefits – often because of all the extra expense involved in being disabled – but that doesn’t mean we are all just sitting at home doing nothing.
Disability isn’t necessarily the same as infirmity. You can be disabled without being ill, and if you put all the right adjustments in place, a disabled person can be just as able to work and take part in society as a non-disabled person.
As a disabled person working with children, I hope I help them see that we’re all different – disabled or not, we all have different things to bring to life.
And it should be noted that we have as many faults as everyone else too. We’re not little suffering saints, as many people expect us to be. We can be just as arsey as everyone else!
Being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis was a harsh blow to Graeme. Here he tells his story about how golf has improved his health and helped give his life purpose again as part of our 100 days, 100 stories campaign.
I used to be a keen sportsman and passionate golfer, however at 35 I was diagnosed with primary progressive MS – that’s more of a slow decline rather than the highs and lows commonly associated with MS. It was a harsh blow and for 15 years I ditched competitive sports. My work became an issue as my mobility declined and I felt very low about everything. It was particularly hard in the winter when I found it impossible to even get to the swimming pool independently.
I was provided with a wheelchair, and as a very proud man, that was even harder to deal with. Our local council introduced my wife Sue and I to table tennis (with me in the chair) so we could have some of the fun we were missing out on and it was really the turning point.
After watching a YouTube video I wondered if I could find a way to play golf again, and so four years ago I took part in the first pilot for disabled golf and as they say the rest is history. Along with my wife Sue, I co-founded the Disabled Golf Association (DGA) as a not-for-profit charitable community interest company. We now have over 800 members across the country!
The power of sport
It’s amazing the power of the human mind to overcome adversity. Sport can be vital in therapy and rehabilitation of disabled people, including those with hidden disabilities. Golf compared to other sports, played with a stationary ball, can stimulate neural pathways. There are very few sports available for disabled people played out in the fresh air that can be both frustrating and fun at the same time!
15 years after my diagnosis, I have gone on to be Team England Captain for the last 3 years. Through golf I’ve found a purpose to life again. My golf is not as good as it used to be, but I’m really enjoying the challenge and though I can’t walk across a room, I can play 18 holes (albeit with a little help with a golf buggy and a kindly arm!).
I know from personal experience the difference my participation has made on my health. My wife has noticed that my concentration and balance have improved, but more importantly I’m more content! Being involved has given me the opportunity to meet some very inspiring people and make new friends. Sue’s health suffered over time too, so it’s fantastic to see her learning to play golf too now!
Now I’m working hard to improve my golf swing! I’m not only working out at the gym but going to yoga, back swimming again, hydrotherapy, and I attend a gym for people with long term conditions where I can safely do cardio work on the bikes. As event co-ordinator for the DGA I hope to provide inspiration to others too. I’ve also found suitable employment where I have turned my disability to a real advantage.
We attended this year’s FutureFest along with another CharityWorks trainee, Poppy Dillon, Communications Assistant at NSPCC. She kindly agreed to write a guest blog for us, to share her thoughts on the event as someone who doesn’t work directly in innovation.
What is FutureFest?
FutureFest is an event run by the innovation charity Nesta, and is a weekend of radical ideas, talks and immersive experiences aimed to inspire, excite and challenge perceptions of the future. The annual festival took place this March in London and covered seven different strands of the future. These were future democracy, future global, future machines, future money, future music and future thrills.
For those of us who didn’t attend, what was it like?
FutureFest was a circus for the senses, filled with bright lights, whirring technology, claustrophobic corridors and interactive installations. Neurosis was the first thing you saw as you entered FutureFest. It was like every glitzy backstage party that I’d ever imagined as a teenager: walking through a heavy black curtain into windowless cavern in a mist of dry ice, and then this huge machine before you. Balls of lights sticking out of it in all directions. A chair at the top for you to sit in, and immediately be swept away in a kind of neurological adventure.
Neurosis was just the first of a whole collection of scintillating machines and experiences. These included a blind robot, a kissing machine you can attach to your phone and an orchestra which combined sound, taste, touch and smell in an effort to imitate synesthesia. I took part in one of their performances, and it really was as bizarre as you’d imagine.
There was even a futuristic sweet shop with a wealth of exciting new sweets, with textures and ingredients that are potentially soon to become popular (apparently insects and vegetables will be involved). Willy Wonka would have been right at home.
What was the best bit?
What really made FutureFest for me were the speakers. From Baroness Helena Kennedy’s impassioned talk on the future of democracy on an international playing field, to Matthew Herbert’s vision of Country X, the first virtual country, and of course the unforgettable live link up with Edward Snowden in Moscow. All the speakers came from different angles and walks of life but what brought them together was their shared belief that the future could be bright.
So we will really all be replaced by robots in the future?
Nesta has developed a quiz which works out the probability of your job being automated in the future (thankfully my job seems pretty safe, and unlikely to be taken over by robots!) According to Nesta, the good news is that creative jobs are hard to automate, and they say the UK’s creative economy could be its secret weapon, generating a million extra jobs by 2030.
Ije Nwokorie, CEO of brand consultancy company Wolff Olins, was charged with answering the weighty question of the future of creativity in an age of automation. He began his talk with the old folk legend of John Henry, who beat a steam powered hammer in a race to drill a tunnel. After this remarkable feat, John Henry died of the stress and exhaustion; proving that the extraordinary capability of humans is still no match for a machine.
The whole premise of his talk was how, rather than living in fear of some kind of hostile, alienating robotic future, which should rather focus on one of the key aspects that differentiated us from machines: our creativity. And far from sounding like cute PR chat- he was a creative consultant after all- this man’s words had a truth to them. He painted an aspirational image of the future, where in his words, the man who came to check your meter would also be the guy who could advise you on how to sell your spare energy, and the shop assistant at Marks & Spencer’s would also be your style consultant. In this world the number one skill sought after by employers would be your own unique creativity.
What could this mean for charities like Scope?
Ije’s idea of a world in which people’s working time isn’t filled by swathes of torturous admin is a compelling one for all of us working in business environments; especially so in charities, where leaner business mechanisms could lead to more money and time to spend directly serving customers. Understandably, he was challenged in his vision by an audience member, who asked whether this wouldn’t increase unemployment by reducing the number of staff needed to run an effective business, and leaving people who just weren’t creative thinkers to live on the dole. Something that was on my mind.
However, Ije’s response was simple. Creativity breeds creativity. The more you are challenged in your thinking the more creative and adaptable your ideas will become. And the greater the range and diversity of creative thinking, the more agile and responsive a business can become. Without the day-to-day admin and bureaucratic processes that we know, we can only speculate about how job descriptions would look, how organizations would be structured and how many people would be needed to staff them. Would it spell a re-evaluation of top-down hierarchical models of business? After all, a creative solution could come from anyone.
As for the idea that some people just aren’t creative, Ije’s response was, well, we’ll teach them! With an education system that equips everyone with the tools to harness their own creative strengths, rather than just catering for students who can succeed academically, he believes that this would be possible.
Automation has been redefining the way we work for centuries, but rather than shrinking the job market it creates the space for new work. Just think about the unused creative potential in businesses which is caught up with self-perpetuating admin. And hell, what about the chance to take pride and enjoyment from your work? That alone is worth it.
What was your overall impression – and does the future look bright?
Although the technological display was fascinating, little of it was explained satisfactorily, so it left us hapless onlookers nodding, saying “oh hey, that’s cool”- drifting from invention to invention, wondering why we’d never really paid attention in our physics lessons at school, or whether it would have helped if we had. This gimmicky feeling pervaded the whole event, and jarred perceptibly for me with Nesta’s more serious aims as a funder of public services and digital social innovation. More futuristic than future.
Some final thoughts from Scope’s Innovation department.
It’s easy to come away from an event like this questioning how accurate or plausible all these images of the future are and how much of it we could really believe. Will chocolate covered vegetables catch on, and if so, why? What was wrong with the classic chocolate orange?
That aside, FutureFest was a thought provoking event, all about opening up discussions about the future directions it could go in, and directions we might not want to go in! The main message was not just to look at the future as something that only happens to us, but something we can affect and shape more in line with the things we care about. We all have a role in this, charities in particular, and this was a really empowering message. What the future holds, who knows. Guess there’s only one way to find out!
Maria is 10, and has cerebral palsy. She uses an eye-gaze communication aid and attends a mainstream school. She’s shared her story as part of our 100 days, 100 stories campaign.
Hi! My name is Maria and I am 10 years old. I live with my mum, dad, sister Sophie and brother Harry in North London. I have three cats called Elsa, Tara and Stevie.
I have cerebral palsy. I was very ill as a baby and I had to stay in hospital for a few weeks. The illness damaged bits of my brain that control how my body moves. I find it very difficult to move my arms and legs how I want to. This means I can’t walk or use my hands or talk with my mouth.
I use a communication aid called a Mobi 2 to help me speak. It has picture and word symbols on it which speak when I look at them long enough. This is called eye gazing and I have managed to speed up a lot this year. I like using my Mobi 2 because it’s fun! I would like people to know more about my communication aid. I use it to do my homework and play games, I can also watch DVD’s on it, my favourite is Mr Bean!
I work with a speech and language therapist called Judy. She has taught me how to use my Mobi 2. We have worked together for five years, I even named my hamster after her! When I first got my aid I had 16 symbols on each page, I now have 144!
Using my communication aid is hard work and can make me feel very tired so sometimes I just eye point to the things I want. I have carers who look after me at home, Judy has shown them all how to use the Mobi 2 so they can support me. Every Monday I use my aid to tell my carers how to cook my favourite meals. The recipes are all on there. I love macaroni cheese, pizza and chocolate cheesecake! I want to put some of my grandma’s Cypriot recipes on there too. Sometimes the word I need is not on the aid and I have to ask someone to programme it in, or I have to spell it. My spelling isn’t the best but it is getting better. I enjoy spelling but it takes longer.
I go to a mainstream primary school. I am in year six. I am moving to a mainstream high school in September. I’m excited about the move. I love the new uniform, it’s all green! Some of my friends are going too. The school is really big so I will need to practice my wheelchair driving skills to be able to get around it.
I can email and text my friends using the aid. I also text Judy every week to tell her what kind of cake I want her to make and bring to our sessions! Chocolate is best. I sometimes text my mum when I’m supposed to be working at school. Don’t tell anyone!
I have a friend who also uses a Mobi 2 to speak. We meet up for play dates and talk to each other using our aids. We both love One Direction! I really like being able to speak to other children using communication aids because I am the only one at my school. I would love a Mobi pen pal so I could email them about my life and they could reply. Maybe Scope can help me find one?!
Do you know any children using a Mobi 2 who would like to chat with Maria? Or would your child like to share their story with us? Let us know in the comments below.
Guest post by Jacqueline, who turned to her entrepreneurial skills after being forced to leave her job due to a fluctuating condition. But she’s still fighting for the support she needs to fulfil her work ambitions. She shares her story as part of our 100 days, 100 stories campaign.
I have always been interested in reducing inequalities. It surfaces at times when I see something that just isn’t right and suddenly I find myself challenging what is happening and developing ways to improve it.
This impulse led me to my first experience of being an entrepreneur. Actually it was the second – my first was selling old toys at the end of the path when I was little.
I had seen how disabled children were being denied equal access to play and childcare. So I developed and managed an inclusive play and childcare scheme for Bolton. It was built on the principle of the social model of disability so that disabled children had the same access to play and childcare as other children.
A dream role
This all led to what was a dream role for me – working as access and inclusion manager for Bolton Council. It involved rolling the model I’d developed out across the borough and eventually around the country. It involved speaking at conferences, sitting on national advisory boards and developing national policy guidelines.
I was at the height of my career and enjoying every moment of bringing significant and long-term change to this area. But my world came tumbling down when I started to experience some frightening changes in my health, which was later diagnosed as Fibromyalgia.
Fibromyalgia is a fluctuating condition that affects around one in 20 people in the UK. There’s no cure and it affects everyone differently.
My mobility is affected which means it takes me a while to get going in the mornings. I find my mind is ready but my body isn’t. It’s as if someone has pulled my plug out – my energy levels just drop and I have to stop what I am doing. I experience chronic pain and fatigue, IBS and disturbed sleep. I didn’t realise at first that not managing the symptoms results in cognitive dysfunction – the harder I pushed back against them, the worse it became.
Fighting to stay in work
I was also fighting to stay in work. My employers were refusing to meet the recommendations made through Access to Work, a scheme that provides funding for workplace adaptations, specialist equipment and transport. After an 18 month battle that ended in a tribunal, the process was taking its toll on my health and I felt there was no option but to resign.
I suddenly found myself moving from a secure job and a good salary to incapacity benefit.
During this time I set up a local support group for people who were in similar circumstances. I also tried to get back into mainstream employment. But the interviews were a disaster. It seemed understood that you might need reasonable adjustments once you had the job, but not in the process itself.
Like me, other members of the support group were having problems staying in work and finding other positions when they lost their jobs. I turned my efforts to developing a workforce retention programme to support our members to stay in work. I had quite a lot of success particularly with Sainsbury’s and the NHS.
Access to Work for entrepreneurs
I decided the only way forward for me was to become self-employed. I found gaining support through Access to Work involved substantially more assessments and questioning about my condition. The scheme didn’t seem to understand entrepreneurship, or chronic and fluctuating conditions.
However, I was eventually awarded the support I needed and was able to enjoy a successful working life once more. I developed an inclusive entrepreneur programme aimed at introducing people who face barriers to mainstream employment, to the possibilities of starting their own businesses. I also launched a social enterprise called the Inclusive Entrepreneur Foundation.
Unfortunately my health deteriorated due to complications following a routine operation. After further battling, I was able to get the support I needed to continue working through Access to Work. But the recent restructure of the scheme has now led to the total loss of my award.
The fight continues
I’ve appealed the decision and have been an active campaigner in highlighting the impact changes to the scheme are having on disabled people. If I’m not successful in the appeal, I will be forced to close my business and return to what I believe is now termed Employment and Support Allowance.
For too many disabled people there are barriers to entering, staying in, and progressing in work. Scope’s new report out today shows the economic impact of enabling one million more disabled people to enter work by 2030.
I’m not sure how many times we have been in hospital over the years.
My eight-year-old daughter Scarlett has a genetic condition which means she can’t produce hormones the body needs to deal with stress, illness or injury. This means a sickness bug is life-threatening for her. She also has autism and sensory issues, which means she doesn’t always realise when she’s unwell, or let us know about it.
Scarlett is going into hospital again for surgery in two weeks’ time, and it’s led me to reflect on some of the things we’ve learned about hospital stays…
Every child has unique challenges
Scarlett’s sensory issues mean she sometimes has extreme reactions to things that might seem harmless. For example, she has always hated having anaesthetic gel (‘magic cream’, in children’s hospital-speak) put on her arm before she has a blood test or an IV tube put in.
When she was a baby I thought it was because she was anticipating the pain, but now I know it’s because the feel of it makes her sick. She actually vomits looking at some creams just at the thought of it on her skin.
Explaining this at hospital can be hard – she has been told many times “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt”, but to Scarlett, it really does!
It’s hard work for us, too
I am up almost 24 hours a day when Scarlett is in hospital. During the night I’m often up every hour to comfort her, or help get her to cooperate. It’s difficult to even leave the ward for a cup of tea.
A lot of care is expected to come from us rather than the hospital staff. The nurses do an amazing job, but they are often very stretched, and I can’t imagine what would happen if every parent handed over all their care duties to them.
It is also really expensive! My husband Andrew, Scarlett’s stepdad, often has to take time off work, and there are things like parking and food to pay for. Parents and carers lose their DLA if the person they care for is in hospital for more than a week, and I think this is shocking.
Explaining things can be difficult
It can be hard to explain to Scarlett what’s happening, and particularly why she has to endure so much that her younger sister Heidi doesn’t.
I’m always on the look-out for children’s books about going to hospital that don’t involve ‘getting better’ at the end. I have seen lots about having tonsils out, or a broken leg, but Scarlett’s condition will never go away, which can be hard to explain.
I find the best approach is to be fairly honest and say that the medications, procedures, operations and masses of appointments are there so to give her the best chance of staying well.
…But it gets easier
Taking Scarlett to hospital, and seeing her looking awful, has become less of a big deal over the years, but it is always a reminder of how fragile she is.
When she was born, I remember being scared about taking her home because there was so much to remember. I was so anxious that I even bought a breathing monitor after a scary incident when I couldn’t wake Scarlett up.
Even now, I find myself looking at the doctors’ faces to see if they seem worried, and starting to panic – what if this is the time things don’t turn out okay?
But generally it has been far easier than I thought it would be in those early days. You adapt as a family, and Scarlett is very happy, lively and brave in dealing with the things life has thrown at her.
When my son Nathan was nine he was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. He was very poorly and would often be in severe pain during the night. I can’t wear my hearing implant at night, so I had specialist equipment to wake me should he need me. But as I am a restless sleeper, the vibrating pad would often end up on the floor.
The guilt I felt when waking up in the morning to find that my son had been crying all night and in too much pain to get out of bed to get me, was indescribable. I tried various equipment but nothing seemed to work. I was so scared of not waking up to my son that soon I stopped being able to sleep.
This continued for quite some time and the sleep deprivation had such an impact that I started having panic attacks and was unable to go to work.
A late diagnosis
At seven years old I was diagnosed as being profoundly deaf in my right ear and severely deaf in my left. Such a late diagnosis is uncommon nowadays thanks to the newborn screening programme.
I was fitted with a hearing aid in my left ear (I had no hearing at all in my right) which I absolutely hated, and life continued. By the time I was in my teens I was profoundly deaf in both ears, but still able to make use of the residual hearing I had to aid lip-reading.
Losing my hearing overnight
In my mid twenties I lost the little bit of hearing I had left. This happened quickly (literally overnight) and unexpectedly.
The cause of this hearing loss was put down to a virus that I had picked up. The impact this had on me was immense.
I found lipreading much harder without my hearing aid and couldn’t understand what Nathan, who was four at the time, was saying to me.
The frustration and upset this caused us both was terrible. Eventually my son became better at using British Sign Language (BSL) and my lip-reading improved.
My confidence took a battering and initially I hated going out and about by myself. Given time things slowly improved.
About two years later I took the big step of having a cochlear implant (a surgically implanted electronic device to help with hearing). The struggle I had to make the decision to go ahead with the operation is a whole other blog in itself!
Getting Ivy changed our lives
It was around this time that I got my hearing dog Ivy. To say she changed our lives is an understatement. Not only does she alert me to everyday sounds like the doorbell – but Nathan is also able to use the ‘call mum’ command should he need to. Ivy then wakes me up and leads me to Nathan.
I trust Ivy implicitly which gives me the peace of mind to be able to sleep. I simply don’t know what I would have done over the last few years without her.
I now have a partner who is hearing and able to hear Nathan, but Ivy is still an essential part of my family. She gives me confidence and I can’t imagine not having her. I am forever grateful to Hearing Dogs who trained and gave Ivy to me.
Come and volunteer with our events team on Sunday 26 April and join our cheer spots along the route. Our main cheer spot will be outside Westferry DLR station, where runners will pass by at miles 14.5 and loop back around so you will see them again at mile 20.5. We will have cheer equipment, t-shirts and a drumming facilitators so you can create some groovy rhythms and support our fundraisers on this incredible challenge. Cheering really does make a difference to our fundraisers and we pride ourselves on being one of the largest and fun cheer squads on the route!
“Scope have been fantastically supportive throughout the training and the event for my first ever half marathon. If this is how they treat their volunteers, then their support for disabled people must be exceptional” Alex Miller (Reading Half Marathon 2015 runner and fundraiser).
Support on the day
Our cheering spot just outside Westferry DLR station should be visible, but if you need assistance on the day, you may call our events phone at 07921404245.
Sean, 28, was supported by Scope into a placement at a camping supplies shop in north Wales, which became a permanent job. He and his employer, Tracy, are sharing their story as part of Scope’s 100 days, 100 stories campaign.
The worst thing about being unemployed is not having a direction – not having a plan, not having anything to do. You find yourself in a lot of despair just trying to do the simplest things, and it’s very difficult.
I’d had to stop work because of illness. I’ve had depression since I was about seven years old, but I’d had a good spell of probably about 10 years where I had no problems at all. But then I just dipped and I needed some help.
In time I got the help required from my GP, and I felt ready to start working again probably about six to eight months after I had to stop.
I definitely knew that I was ready to get back in there – chomping at the bit, to be honest with you.
Getting into the work market was tough. The Jobcentre was quite poor. I think they were more keen on pushing me into any job than the right one.
I really couldn’t say how many jobs I applied for. I still have a big lever arch file of all the applications I’ve done.
Starting at the shop
After having an interview with Scope, I started at the shop in February of 2014.
I love my job. The people I work with are great. There’s quite a lot involved – serving customers, getting stock ordered, a lot of ICT work, and we do a lot of internet sales.
I also did a lot of training through Scope during the first few months, including an ICT course which I’d had no qualifications in before.
I think I integrated really well here. They’ve given me a lot of confidence, because they’ve given me a lot of trust; a lot of faith has been put into me.
We’ve just started stocking and selling air rifles – Tracy and Neil didn’t know much about it, but with me being somebody who does go shooting, they thought he could use my knowledge to expand the business.
It’s nice working for somebody who puts faith in their employees, and it gave me a big morale boost to be trusted so much.
I’m feeling like I’m a part of this business, more than just an employee – I’m actually an active part in driving it forward, which makes you feel good about yourself.
The help that we got from Scope initially was so helpful. I think he was matched well with this place – there was obviously a lot of thought about what Sean likes doing. His adviser was only a phone call away if he ever needed anything.
We knew that if things didn’t work out with Sean we could say so, which means you’re not under so much pressure as a small business.
But it was always going to be that he would come on board with us – and that’s mainly because of the support that he’d got through Scope.
We don’t see any kind of disability as a stumbling block. As long as you can do the job it doesn’t matter, and if you can’t do something, just tell us.
I think most people’s families have been touched by some kind of disability. We certainly have – so if someone is struggling to get a job, then let’s give them an opportunity to get a foot on the ladder here. What better way of getting somebody back in?
It’s been invaluable for us, it really has. And I’m confident that even if we hadn’t been able to take Sean on, he would have walked into another job – his confidence was boosted literally overnight.