legacy | mydaftlife

Beasts, bombs…

Last week we witnessed the Care Quality Commission (CQC) prioritise its reputation over the people it’s meant to serve and protect on live television. It was grim viewing. CEO Ian Trentham and Paul Lelliot were hauled in front of the Parliament Human Rights Committee to answer questions about Whorlton Hall (I previously wrote about this here). The Committee published correspondence between Barry Spencer Wilkinson, inspector, and the CQC from 2015 which painfully and painstakingly demonstrates how the Whorlton Hall provider kicked up a stink about Barry’s negative inspection findings complaining the inspection team was too large. Harriet Harman was on blistering form as she picked her way through evidence of a cover up during the session. Lelliot and Trentham blathered on, refusing to answer or chucking blame at pretty much anyone.

‘We have to wait for the findings of the investigation into the 2015 inspection report…’

‘We commissioned two independent investigations into this… TWO’

‘100s of people went in and out over that period and no one spotted abuse. NO ONE…’

After the provider complained, Barry’s report was shelved until a tiny team went in to re-inspect six months later and found lots of good stuff. The published report regraded Whorlton Hall from ‘Requires Improvement’ to ‘Good’. Things like unregulated use of a seclusion room and complaints of staff bullying fell by the wayside until Panorama pitched up three/four years later to record the abuse. [At this point my brain cannot go near what people must have endured in that time or how often this burying of negative inspections happens.]

Barbara Keeley MP has written a cracking letter to the CQC CEO raising numerous concerns.

An immediate outcome of that revolting performance was the resignation via Twitter of four members of the Expert Advisory Group for the current CQC restraint review; Chris Hatton, Julie Newcombe, Jeremy (Beth’s dad) and me. Others may have done so.

And Brilliance…

The following day Rich, Tom, my parents, sister Tracey and hub Jeremy set off for Ross on Wye for the naming ceremony of #ConnorsRig. The backstory to this is that Rhiannon Davies works for Safe Lane Global, an organisation which ‘detects, identifies and mitigates potential threats on land and in water’. Rhiannon and Richard’s baby, Kate, died in appalling circumstances in 2009. Rhiannon and I hooked up electronically a few years ago and spent many hours sharing swear and drink drenched messages of pain, rage and despair as we faced obstruction and worse from the respective NHS Trusts responsible for our children’s deaths.

A couple of months ago Rhiannon emailed me saying that Safe Lane was taking delivery of a new rig and ‘everyone from the c-suite to the drillers and workshop staff would like to dedicate the rig to Connor…’ Just wow.

We tipped up late morning to a boardroom full of treats and #ConnorsRig high vis jackets. [Sob]

Over coffee and homemade cake, Adam Ainsworth, CEO, Paddy and other staff explained more about the work of the company. It was fascinating to hear experts in such an unusual and important area talk about their experiences. We walked down to a nearby field where #ConnorsRig [sob] was parked next to an army tent. With rain hammering down, Paddy talked us through various types of bombs including the beast on the floor they’d detected somewhere in the UK. So many stories, so much passion and commitment.

Next it was lunch during which a barrage of further questions were answered then back to the rig for the red ribbon cutting, a toast to Connor and demonstrations. The afternoon finished with Tom driving the rig out of the field, through the carpark and onto the truck for its return to Kent (a six hour journey). There are brilliant photos and a video [tissue warning] of this wonderment here produced by Richard.

I can’t put in to words what this day and rig naming meant and continues to mean to us. The tears started when I saw the high vis jackets and pretty much carried on into the early hours of the following morning as I thought about how much Connor would have loved the whole thing. Heavy haulage, World War Two ordnance, his beloved London (the rig is small to enable it to access narrow spaces), health and safety… saving lives. So many boxes of joy and intense interest ticked.

I also thought about the contrast between the two days. Senior CQC figures posturing, conniving and obfuscating in response to clear questions by the Human Rights Committee. Demonstrating no apparent understanding (or even interest) that people are brutalised as an outcome of limitations and shoddy practice by the CQC. Little or no decency or integrity to be detected.

And Safe Lane Global staff just doing humanity. Treating us with respect, kindness and generosity. Adam, Paddy, Julia, Ian, Jaymie and others spent hours with us, answering a billion and one questions and giving us a day we will never forget. Memories to feast on forever and the wonderful #ConnorsRig to look out for as it makes its way around the UK snaffling out ordnance and more.

Rhiannon and Richard what can I say? Indefatigable decency and love…. You bloody legends, you.

Thank you.

On Friday a Craft Activism day was held as part of the Oxford Brookes Think Human festival. The #JusticeforLB quilt was on display for the first time in 18 months and Janet Read, one of the quilting team of four, was a presenter. Other presenters included Karen Nickell talking about textile art during the Troubles in Northern Ireland, and Roxanne Ellis, who founded the Women’s Quilt celebrating the lives of 598 women killed by men between 2009-15.

The event was held at the Avado Gallery in Oxford.

It was blooming moving and powerful listening to Janet tell the story behind the making of the quilt.

Concerns about whether it may turn out to be a #JusticeforLB tea towel if not enough patches were sent. The bundle of patches from the Messy Church group arriving with still wet glue. Letters sent with stories and concerns around whether patches might not be ‘good enough’. The stretching of the patch size template… The small detail that Janet, Margaret Taylor and Janis Firminger had never made a quilt before.

Janet said when they first laid the patches out on the floor, they realised they had been given a gift. And cried.

Janet’s sister Jean Draper, a textile artist, was drafted in to help and the just under 300 patches from people aged 3-80 were transformed into a quilt of beauty, spontaneity and power.

During Janet’s talk I began to think about the in-between bits of the quilt. The individual patches have kind of eclipsed the quilting work. The joining together of different shaped patches into a spectacular whole and the artistic endeavour this involved.

Karen Nickell earlier talked about how invisible much textile art is, stored away in suitcases or attics. Undervalued within the art world (or dismissed as ‘soft furnishings’). The enormity of this quilt, like other objects of protest stitching, was breathtaking. Joanne Begiato rounded the event off reflecting on the ‘time traveller’ dimension of these objects which have a power beyond those who make them.

Bang on.

A Doughty Street gig

A couple of weeks ago I was involved in a Doughty Street evening event about strategic litigation. I didn’t know what this was but Kids for Law have helpfully produced three short films explaining it; using the law as a tool for social justice. I was asked to speak about the legacy of #JusticeforLB.

‘Ooh er’, I thought. ‘Legacy?’

The (attempted non) publication of the Leder review weeks earlier came to mind. How committed journalists worked to make a ‘buried’ report newsworthy. How editors were willing to take a punt on the unseen report. The passion and dedication demonstrated on that dark day.

This is an example of the legacy of the extraordinary efforts of families and allies to make the premature deaths of their daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, aunties, uncles, parents known and cared about. These issues have become more prominent, connections have been made, networks developed and countless people have stepped up to collaborate and be counted.

Another example is the truly wondrous pop up #CaminoLB walks that took place across the UK when we were walking the #JusticeforLB bus to Santiago. I can’t describe how moving it was to facetime brilliantly cheerful groups of people, many of whom had never met before, from the Camino. London, Cheshire, Kent, Devon, Birmingham…

Legacy is an important strand of social action I learned during the evening. Or steps made can wither away. I suppose, like the quilt, it’s now about looking beyond the headline patches. We can’t bottle the magic of #JusticeforLB but we can certainly start to think a bit more about the in-between bits. How it worked and why.