Choice and control

LB gets direct payments to cover the cost of four hours care a week. Direct payments were introduced to enable “service users” [people] to buy their own care support and services. It’s all about giving service users choice and control in creating a “care package” [support] that is tailored to their needs. So far so good…

The local “care provider” [company] that is somehow hooked into the local authority contacted me to say that LB was down on their list for a residential holiday.  When his case had gone to “panel” [no idea] a few months ago, his care package was increased to 4 hours a week plus a residential holiday. Oh. Ok. What kind of holiday? Five days at an activity centre in Swindon. I wrote the cheque.

Choice? Now that’s a funny one. Choice really means a choice of two or more things. If you’ve only got the choice of one thing and nothing, it ain’t really a choice. It’s a yes or no thank you. I’d already googled and failed to find any available holiday for LB, so, residential holiday in Swindon or no residential holiday? Yes please. But lets not pretend there’s a choice involved here.

The holiday starts today. The company have been in touch a few times about arrangements, LB turned down the meet and greet opportunity and he’s being picked up this afternoon. Between 1.30-3.30pm according to the paperwork. Then a call late yesterday afternoon;

“Hi Sara, just to let you know, I should be with you around 5pm tomorrow to pick up LB…”
5pm? Eh?  Why so late? What if we’d made plans? Why cut corners?
“Oh, great! Thanks!!! LB is really looking forward to it. See you then. Bye!!!”

Control? Not really. Not when you are handing over your dude to their care for four nights and five days. And what about LB? Does he have any choice in all of this? Not really. He’s been muttering but ain’t called in his legal team yet. I suspect he’s just hoping for a few Stobarts on the M4.

 

Winterbourne

I’m keeping this short.  I find it so upsetting I get that lump in the back of the throat thing and then tears, comparable to the recent downpours we’ve been having, start chucking it down my cheeks. Coverage of the recent independent report into the abuse of learning disabled people living at Winterbourne View care home institution by Margaret  Flynn* can be found here. We now know that there was a raft of factors (big surprise) detailed in the report that contributed to the barbaric and inhumane treatment of people who are pretty much defenceless. I won’t rehash them here, but just  quote this;

Andrew Havers, medical director of NHS Bristol, North Somerset and South Gloucestershire Primary Care Trusts, said: “Many of the systems that could have prevented the shocking abuse of patients at Winterbourne View hospital failed.

Yep. The systems failed. As they always do. And nothing changes. There will be hundreds more Winterbourne’s. Happening now and in the future. Our children, your children, future children, will be beaten, humiliated, abused, exploited, overlooked, neglected, teased, tortured and toyed with. Through systemic failure. On so many levels.

I tweeted a comment this afternoon about the fuss that was caused by the cat being chucked in the wheelie bin that time. I didn’t mean to compare human with animal abuse at all. I just wish that cases like Winterbourne produced the same level of outrage among people because until they do, I can’t see much changing.

Anyway. That’s all really. Other than I’m really learning the meaning of a heavy heart.

*Contrast this with Louise Casey’s tripe if you can be bothered.

The Rausings

I just wanted to have a scooby at the reporting of the Rausing case here, parking the obvious tragic dimension to the story.

The bare bones; a 48 year old woman died at home, possibly/probably through drug use, and her husband hid her body in a bedroom for up to two months. He was charged with ‘preventing the lawful and decent burial of his wife’ and given a suspended sentence. He was also charged with driving ‘while unfit through drugs’.

“Unfit through drugs” is the first sub-heading on the BBC report. Rausing’s drug driving is constructed as a ‘mild’ charge. Less damning than drink driving.  His suspended sentence stipulates attendance at a residential drug rehab treatment programme for two years. Eh? A residential drug rehab programme? Where? And at whose cost? These details, for the very rich, don’t need to be provided. Most drink and drug related crimes involve punitive sentences, not throwaway sentences that involve checking into programmes that are beyond the reach and knowledge of drug and drink related offenders. The unseen mechanisms that protect and facilitate the distancing of unimaginably rich people from the rules governing the rest of us are remarkable.

An outcome of Louise Casey’s recent ‘report’ is that problem families (that is, those whose homes were centres of drug dealing and whose children were ignored and neglected – cough cough) have been pilloried and picked over carelessly and nastily in the media. But Rausing, the BBC informs us, is a shy and awkward character.

“In a statement read to the court earlier, Rausing said he had been unable to confront the reality of Mrs Rausing’s death.

I tried to carry on as if her death had not happened and batted away any inquiries about her”

Oh. Okaaay…

“The court heard that Rausing told police in a statement after his arrest: “I do not have a very coherent recollection of the events leading up to and since Eva’s death. Safe to assure you that I have never wished her or done her any harm.”

Phew. You run along then, matey. I almost weep at the thought of how many other people, caught up in horribly tragic situations, would have have dreamt of such a respectful engagement with their experiences (I won’t even sully this by naming names). The use of so much direct reported speech by a defendant is, in itself, unusual. The BBC clearly treat Rausing differently to your run of the mill crim.

“He added: I did not supply her with drugs. I have been very traumatised since her death. I do not know what caused her death. I did not feel able to confront the reality of her death..”

The families Casey interviewed, judged, condemned and spouted about, are not given this space and dignity. The presentation of Rausing as a “shy and socially awkward man” isn’t one afforded to others.  This sugar coating is absent from judgemental and damning portrayals of other sector sectors of society. Casey’s families were solely to blame for their chaotic lives. The Rausings’ were down to the glass of champagne Mrs R was unable to resist one New Year’s eve. Oh, and the stress of being so rich. I just want to add they also had a fucking shedload of options and opportunities that Casey’s chosen few never got a sniff of.

Ironically, David Cameron’s brother was QC for Rausing. He drew on elitist gobeshite defence rubbish; “In the words of Shakespeare, the defendant committed this offence while the balance of his mind was disturbed”. So, the story was dealt with as painlessly, tastefully and smoothly as possibly.  Middle England and the Chippy set barely ruffled a feather.

Rausing got a suspended sentence. Free to shoot himself up in the comfort of his Chelsea mansion. And Louise Casey’s ‘report’ on ‘Problem Families’ continues to inform policy and practice. Stay classy San Diego.

Jelly bean tears

Overheard, from the front room:

“Can you get our sweet day sweets when you go out Dad?”
“No. You had them yesterday.”
“No we didn’t! We didn’t get any in the end!”
“Oh.”
“And we haven’t had them for weeks.”
“Tom, we’re like getting a bit old for “sweet day sweets” bro…”
“I’m THIRTEEN!”
“Well it ain’t “sweet day” now.”
“You’re 19 and saying we’re too old for sweets when you had them till you were at least 16???”
“Yeah. Well, come on, you did get a lot of added benefits being the youngest…”
“Yeah, like playing ’15’ games when you’re only THIRTEEN..”
“Yeah! And the rest!”
WHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAA…
“Er, what you doing Tom?”
“I need some tears.”
“Eh, what?”
WHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA… I need to test my tears.”
“What?”
“I need to test my tears for sweet stuff. Kids’ tears should taste like jelly beans. And sweet stuff.”
“Eh?”
“Not vegetables.”

Hilarious.

But I’m right back with Willy Wonka… singing Pure Imagination.

Unashamedly.

 

Mind your language

Tom was teaching Will some Spanish this morning. He’s off to Valencia on Wednesday to stay with his girlfriend’s family.

“Pretty impressive Spanish Tom. Where’d you learn that?”
“Er, Spanish lessons.”
“Spanish lessons? What in school?”
“Er, yeah. I’m doing Spanish GCSE in Year 10…”
“Ah cool. Do you speak any other languages LB?”
“Yes.”
“What ones?”
“Irish.”
“Wow! Say something in Irish.”
“Top of the morning to you.”

Louise Casey, Problem Tsar

Louise Casey, who calls herself Director General, Troubled Families, published a report this week; ‘Listening to troubled families’. This report generated headlines and television news coverage across the UK. There has been some criticism. Zoe Williams provides a good summary here.

So why am I bothering to write anything? I suppose because I feel incensed. Because I’m a researcher and I hate to see fake ‘research’. Especially published fake ‘research’. Especially in a government publication. And most importantly, because this sort of toxic bile sticks. I can imagine how it’s been reported in the Daily Mail and Telegraph. Middle class people across the country turning their noses up at these ‘feral families’ over their breakfast tea and toast. It’s wrong.

So, where shall I start? Well, Casey’s certainly overstretched herself with the report. It’s poorly written, repetitive and drips with judgemental statements. Even the foreword (written by herself) is rambling, repetitive nonsense. I keep coming back to ‘why did she do it’? She ain’t no researcher. There’s a ton of up to the minute, well researched studies the government could have drawn on. I can only think she was given the ‘problem families’ gig (why?) and took it upon herself (in a self important way) to go and ‘interview’ some families, select extracts from the interviews (bypassing the essential stage of analysis) and vomit text around them. Text that reeks of her own fears,anxieties, assumptions and prejudice. The random referencing of academic study underlines a woeful lack of engagement in this area.

A bug bear of mine when providing student feedback is meaningless, throwaway statements. Louise has got a real handle on these;

In some cases there are clearly negative consequences for children growing up in these structurally unstable families, especially where the instability is accompanied by violence. [You don’t say..]

She also shines at lobbing in unsubstantiated, judgemental statements;

Some of the families reported being able to cope with the children when they were younger but as they got older found it more difficult, as they often started to display more challenging behaviour – often borne of their early experiences.

Many of the people interviewed were just not very good at relationships –  unsurprising perhaps in light of their own upbringing.

There is a leaning towards a Mills and Boon type style of writing. Not your usual government report lingo;

For example, as soon as the relationship between the parents breaks down, the father disappears from the family never to be heard of again.

But mostly it’s meaningless nonsense, again openly framed by Casey’s view of ‘good’ (middle class) parenting;

In some cases the mother’s idea of protecting their children seemed extremely far away from what most would consider acceptable. “Yeah so Owen left and then I think Clare must have been probably the age of going up to secondary school herself and she was fine in her first year. She got to 12 and I don’t know what happened. She changed completely. Horrible child…she basically took over the house…” Jill

In the next extract, Louise seems to equate living in the same area for a long time as isolating. But I think she probably means living in the kind of area these families live in means they don’t mix with ‘normal’ people and this leads to some sort of interbreeding and more problems.

The impression of families’ isolation from more ‘normal’ or positive friends or networks came across strongly. While many families moved around from one place to another fleeing violence, others had never left the area they had grown up in. Their partners came from the same street or moved between women in the area. They tended to stick within a network of other dysfunctional peers.

She gets herself in a bit of a mess in the next section. When it comes to parents blaming services, she suddenly tries to inject some objectivity into the report and spouts gibberish;

Many of the families complained about professionals or agencies involved with them, and in particular, social services. However it would not be fair to always lay the blame there when looked at dispassionately [???]. Undoubtedly, some families have reason to feel let down. But there were often unwarranted feelings that their problems were not of their making, and that they had no control over the problem or its solution; that it was they that had highlighted problems, with services simply failing to intervene and do what they were entitled to expect of them.

She manages to slip in that some families want larger council houses and makes it clear that while the mothers raise challenges they face, such as overcrowding, unsupportive schooling and a lack of effective support, the problem is firmly located within the family. To the extent that she refuses to acknowledge that some of the kids had learning difficulties. This is kind of hilarious in a way. But of course it’s not.

In certain cases there were undoubtedly problems with children that any parent would find difficult to deal with. But for many it was clear that the reasons for that behaviour had come from the household itself – the poor parenting skills, the constant changes in the home, family and partners, and the ongoing verbal and physical violence (among many other factors no doubt).

Yep, she actually added that last bit in brackets..

The conclusion is firmly within Mills and Boon territory with “starkest messages” about these dysfunctional families “who are not beyond help and hope”. I am not going to even repeat any of her nonsense conclusions because they ain’t worth the paper they are written on.

I’m left with a few questions really;

  • How can this piece of billy bullshit (or bileshit) be presented as a government report?
  • Why is Louise Casey Director General of Troubled Families and what does this mean?
  • Are there any other Director Generals and if so, who are they?

The spreading of such toxic bile is deeply alarming, but so is what it demonstrates about this bunch of chocolate teapots running this country.

The end of year assembly

This morning was LB’s end of year assembly. A time of celebrating and sobbing. This year kicked off with Shine by Gary Barlow. A couple of young girls opened brilliantly with the first line or so then everyone else kicked in with a range of voices, shouts, words and signs. Everyone was rummaging around for tissues within seconds.

It’s the same every year.

I remember one year, when LB was about four, I’d just bought a video camera which I was really looking forward to using. The kids were brought on to the stage dressed in colourful tunics (for the ’round the world’ theme) and stood in a semi circle. I managed to locate LB in my viewfinder, with his angelic little face, pressed record and then they opened with “What a Wonderful World“. The rest of the footage is the floor, feet and chair legs and about 10 seconds of LB and his classmates singing and signing;

I hear babies cry, I watch them grow,
You know their gonna learn
A whole lot more than I’ll never know…

Not a dry eye in the house.

I think some of the emotion is about seeing such a diverse group of kids performing their socks off but it’s also seeing the staff interacting with them. They are an exceptional bunch who offer unending support and encouragement.  In this setting, unlike most others, our kids have no limits.