The book. Ah the book…. Six months after publication. A kick ass review from Simon Jarrett here (behind a paywall, sorry, though will share some tasters below).
There’s been a fair bit of interest and invitations to talk about the book. A keynote talk at the Salford University Learning Disability Nurses day in November, a Social Care Institute for Excellence (SCIE) Roundtable on institutional violence in London in January, a Supported Loving seminar last week, a Wolverhampton Council Lunch and Learn session this week. The annual CANDDID conference in March. Pam Bebbington and I have just recorded a Keynote session for the British Institute of Learning Disabilities (BILD) annual conference in Feb. Audiences include people with learning disabilities, public members, support workers, providers, commissioners, social workers, representatives from NHS England, the Dept of Health and Social Care and the CQC, and academics.
I’ve approached these talks with slight hesitation, apologising for the grimness of the content of the book, and its key messages. I’ve made it clear I didn’t set out to write the book it became, and I don’t take any pleasure in relaying such damning arguments.
The comments, questions and feedback have been almost universally positive at these events. Perhaps those seated quietly at home or in the room have mentally cussed or bristled out of sight. At a very early event the panel chair stated forcefully they weren’t part of the problem and neither were other psychiatrists they knew. Overall, however, there has been a consistency in response; careful listening, retelling of stories and example offerings to add to the bursting evidence base.
I’m beginning to sense some relief among some audience members. Possibly because the unsayable is now in book form, legitimatising stuff that has long worried, concerned, agonised and itched. There have also been a few comments (including in Simon’s review) along the lines of ‘some of this stuff is familiar to me but when you view it through a lens of erasure and social murder it’s so blinking grim.’
An extract from Simon’s review;
I’m on a train from Bristol to Stockport on Friday afternoon writing this. The train is rammed with the usual scrum over seat bookings and baggings, ever present shitty behaviour. One man was disgruntled someone had taken his booked seat and wouldn’t show his ticket. A young man, on his way to a weekend Hen Party sitting behind me offered his seat. The man declined. This young man during the next 20 mins until Birmingham (when the seat-sitter got off), fetched a drink from the train shop for another passenger sitting next to him with a label pinned to his jumper showing his name and destination. When he got off the train, he scooped up empty cups from the space around Mr Seatless, who is now sitting in his seat playing solitaire on his ipad. Calm, peace and quiet kindness. He said he felt so disrespected by the person refusing to show his ticket.
We’ve really got ourselves into a proper mess over the treatment of people labelled with learning disabilities who should not be living in an extraordinary world. A world replete with disrespect, contempt and worse. We can all do better. In tiny, seemingly inconsequential, or bigger, ways. Listening, offering support and clearing up mess. Repairing disrespect.
I’m not going to apologise for the book any more.
And I’ll end this post with another extract from Simon’s review.
mydaftlife 