Annual conference 2012. Where photographically, it became increasingly about the carpet.
The Society for Disability Studies
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Monthly Archives: July 2012
Bill Clinton, Posh Fish and the work do
Just like I nearly met Michelle Obama a few months ago, today I nearly met Bill Clinton. Small world and all that. We were at a work do in a local hotel when we noticed some security type geezules with ear pieces prowling the corridors. Very atmospheric, and slightly surreal. The hotel is based in an old prison.
“Ooer.. someone important here tonight then?” we chittered, moving towards the photographer to have our work pics taken.
“Hey, is Bill Clinton talking to you lot tonight then?” asked the photographer, conspiratorially.
“Eh, wha? Bill Cer-linton? Here?” We looked round.
“Yep, I saw this security guard earlier in town and asked to take his photo. Then I heard from the guys in the office that Bill Clinton walked passed Posh Fish in a white suit. I just saw the same security guard walk in a moment ago…”
“Wow.”
“A white suit?”
“No, he ain’t talking to us.”
The action hotted up as an older man rushed past, dressed just like like a US reporter in the movies.
“Ah. He’s a journalist from the New Yorker.”
“Did you just recognise a journalist from the New Yorker?”
“No, he said ‘I’m from the New Yorker’ on his phone when he went passed.”
More security people gathered in the exercise yard. Looking very serious. Scanning the area. Was Big Bill about to arrive?
New Yorker guy rushed passed again.
“Excuse me, is something happening this evening?” I ventured.
“Happening? No idea?” he answered with a big, fake shrug, rushing off again.
Blacked out cars filled the front of the hotel. A posse of security guards, the size of minibuses, came in from the rain.
“A ‘V.I.P.’ is going to be filming out back”, one of them said. With a serious, Bill Clinton related, nod.
“Well I’d love to hang around and meet him”, I thought to myself. “But it’s Tom’s birthday and I’ve got meself some butterfly cakes to ice.”
The torch relay
“Come on LB! Hurry up or we’ll miss it!”
“I hate the torch relay Mum. I HATE it!”
“Come on…”
“I HATE THE TORCH RELAY! I HATE THE TORCH RELAY!”
“Look, I think it’s coming along St Clements already…”
“Why are you doing this to me Mum? I.HATE.THE.TORCH.RELAY.”
“There – look! Can you see it? Above all those people? Look up there..”
“I hate it Mum.”
“Ok. It’s gone. Home now.”
“Thank you Mum. Can I go back on Youtube Mum?”
The Sickie
“Mum? Mum is it school today Mum?”
“Yep.”
“What if I didn’t feel well Mum?”
“Don’t you feel well?”
“No Mum.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Dodgy stomach Mum.”
“Well you look fine to me.”
“I can’t go to school Mum. I don’t want to infect the other kids.”
“You’re going to school.”
“Mum! I’ve got a dodgy stomach Mum. And I feel sick. That’s what I feel like today.”
“School LB.”
“MUM. I’m knackered Mum. And I’m seventeen. I HATE school.”
Milan. Space sharing (2); chuggers, dogs and swifts
The Phone Call (2)
Ring ring…
LB [from a different room]; “Hello.”
Ring ring…
“Hello.”
Ring ring…
“HELLO!”
Ring ring…
“HELLO!!!”
Ring ring…
“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT????”
Ring ring…
Sunshine, support and fluffy dogs
Old social worker: So I think if you are hoping that LB will eventually move into supported living, he needs to get used to staying away from family…
Adult social worker: Well there’s always respite at Saxon House.
Me: Mmm.. I’m not sure he’d want to go there for respite.
OSW: Oh no. Definitely not. [laughs] He hates ‘the disableds’ does LB [laughs]. He is hilarious. You haven’t met him yet but he comes out with the funniest things. [starts crying with laughter] He sat there, looking at me last time and came out with these one liners. He is totally comical…[wipes eyes]
ASW: Well there’s always Camden. That’s run more like a hotel than a respite centre. It’s like walking into a hotel and it’s all set up like a hotel. There’s a couple of them locally and I think there’s one at the seaside. And actually, you’d be surprised how many people don’t see themselves as disabled.
Me: Wow!!! Camden sounds amazing.
OSW: Oh yes. A hotel? That sounds right up LB’s street.
ASW: Well it’s all about choice these days. You know. Personalised budgets and choices.
Me: [floats off into some imaginary space full of sunshine, fluffy dogs, support and services]
The adult social worker
“LB, your new social worker’s coming to visit me today. Then she’s coming to meet you at school.”
“She’s already been Mum.”
“Eh? Wha?”
“She’s already been Mum.”
“Oh. What did you talk about?”
“Being sociable Mum.”
“Oh. Ok. Can you remember her name?”
“Anita Mum.”
“Ah, that’s your current social worker. You are going to meet your adult social worker today.”
“Adult Mum?”
“Yes, the one who will be your social worker when you’re an adult.”
“She’s already been Mum.”
“No, that was Anita. You’ll meet the new one today.”
“I don’t want to meet the social worker Mum. I don’t even know her. She’s probably racist Mum. And… And.. she’s on placement Mum. She’s not coming to school.”
“Don’t be silly LB. You’ve got to meet her today. She’s your new social worker.”
“The law’s the law Mum. She’s not coming back to school.”
Milan; sharing space
Milan; life, heat and pigeons
I know it’s a bit technically flawed. But I like it, and it comes back to pigeons. Again.
mydaftlife 