You know you're a P.A. when....

So I recently asked the lovely team Greene to help me compile a list of the funniest/quirky aspects involved in being a PA. Here is the list that we came up with...

You know you're a PA when....
1) You guide a little finger into a nail dryer.
2) You become used to having wet socks/tights after helping someone have a shower.
3) You start to really hate bus drivers after hearing 'sorry you can't get on, there's already a buggy on the bus'.
4) You go to Costa and ask for a cup of tea to eat in, in a take away cup that's not too full up and totally confuse the staff.
5) You feel like Gok Wan after getting an approving nod from an outfit that you've pieced together.
6) You check the disabled loos for the appropriate bars even when you're not with a disabled person.
7) Seeing a tennis ball in bed (to relieve back pain) becomes completely normal.
8) You check every place you walk into for a step.
9) You cannot explain what your job involves because people think PAs work in offices and the term 'carer' offends you.
10) You carry a bizillion bags regularly.
11) You develop methods to avoid inducing spasms like clapping loudly or whacking your thighs when you enter a room.
12) You can't stand lumps in the duvet so take at least 10 minutes trying to flatten said duvet after you've made the bed.
13) You become used to staring at the ceiling in a shop so that the staff will direct their questions towards the person in the wheelchair.
14) You're fed up of hearing 'that must be so rewarding'.

"Are your knees just really excited?" Child aged 4

I think I now factor the effects of Cerebral Palsy into my life much more than I ever have. One of the downsides of mainstream schooling for me was that I learnt to ignore my body to fit in. As a consequence, I spent the majority of my teens making myself look and feel as "normal" as possible so I ignored the back pain from sitting for hours, my added fatigue and would rarely utter a word to the outside world about my frustrations. But you can't do this forever...

I've always always wanted to teach and I put a lot of dogged determination into making this dream a reality but I didn't really think about how working life would work for me. I didn't want to consider that being disabled would affect my ability to work.  I just wanted to do it, to be a class teacher and help children learn. It was only during my dreadful third year placement that I realised that some employers would only see a wheelchair and judge accordingly. I also realised how gruelling a teacher's life can be and that working 60 hours a week would and did take its toll. So I left university with very little confidence about obtaining and maintaining a teaching job.

I started volunteering in local schools part-time the year that I finished my degree and I noticed that part-time hours were agreeing with my body and therefore my body was agreeing with me more than it did when I was studying and would push myself beyond my limits. I came to the conclusion that I was very glad that I'd pushed myself through school and during my degree but that this was now adult life and I couldn't keep ignoring what my body needed.

The decision to work part-time didn't come easily to me, it meant I had to bid farewell to the idea of being a class teacher and had to give in to the fact that I don't have an able-bodied body nor do I have the stamina of an able-bodied person. That's hard when you're so used to fighting and proving yourself in a mainstream world but I knew I was making the right choice. I needed to protect the longevity of my health and I didn't want to burn out two years down the line. I also wanted to work independently but my independence level comes at a price. It means increased muscle pain and tiredness but it's important to me so I do it. Working part-time means that I can be independent at work in the mornings but come home at lunchtime and give myself the support and rest that I need in the afternoons. I still have times when I feel sad about not teaching full-time, but  I know that I'm still teaching and working with children. I know that I'm making my legs happy and I know that this way I have enough energy to see my friends and have a social life. It's the right balance for me.

My journey as a writer

Writing has always been a bit of a battle for me. Without the full range of movement in my  shoulders plus the added strain put upon my arms through transferring and weight bearing, it was inevitable that writing would be an issue. It was clear from an early age that the more I wrote the more illegible my handwriting became so it was something that my 1:1 support worker at primary school used to help me with if I got too tired or had to write for a sustained period. I also tried out a range of assistive technology like having a computer so I could type my school work instead of writing it but it was the same issue. Typing requires use of the same muscles in ones shoulder as writing so alas I'd get tired and my arm would get sore. I also trialled voice activated software so that I could dictate what I wanted to write and the computer would transform my sentence into print. Sadly, this type of software in the early 2000's required very clear speech in order to accurately type out what was being said and stammering meant that I would say "I went to the park" and see "when I went to San Francisco..." Not the most useful...
When I went to secondary school I wrote for myself initially in every lesson, without support and I was quite happy doing it. It meant that in my preteen years I could appear more 'normal' and independent which I was relieved about. But then the dreaded GCSE years came, I had a bigger workload and different stresses and I had to face up to the fact that I couldn't keep up with the writing. Unlike when I was younger and it would just become less legible I was actually reaching points where I couldn't physically write sod all. I told my mum and she arranged for the O.T to come out and assess my writing abilities so that provisions could be put in place for my exams. The O.T came in and asked me to write the sentence "the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog" over and over for three minutes. I couldn't even write it once. Very demoralising for this to be your reality at 15 but there it was staring me in the face. I couldn't write a sentence yet had so much to say. It was decided that I would dictate my GCSE exams and have them scribed for me. Dictation is not an easy or natural process but it's a skill that I developed for my GCSEs and A-levels as I wrote essays by saying 3 words at a time and giving the scribe time to write it. It's not a route that anyone chooses to write about King Lear, Feminism and Freud through but it was the only way. I found this process long, drawn out and very tiring, I found it hard to keep track of what I wanted to write with the constant need to stop and wait for it to be written but I made my own notes which helped. I also realised through dictation that I think through my pen ie when I write ideas come to me but as I dictated it was harder to allow thoughts to flow. It made me learn the art of being clear and concise as it's very hard to ramble 3 words at a time. I think I took to this aspect easily partly because stammering prohibits your ability to waffle so getting to the point was something that came easily.
Luckily, I chose a degree that included two exams in the whole three years so I only had to dictate under pressure and timed conditions twice. However we had a lot of coursework and essays that I dictated to my note taker which though were written in a more relaxed set up, brought up similar frustrations.
When I look at all that I've achieved, I feel proud of the fact that I did it through dictation, scribes and additional arrangements for exams. I'm also proud that I proved myself in spite of all those that doubted me and my intelligence level. I don't think people know how much you are subject to people thinking that your mental age is that of an 18 month old when you have a disability and that this perception is exacerbated when you stammer and even more so when they can't read what you've written. I've fought against this my whole life. My degree means so much to me because that was the proof to the world and to myself that I could do it, I could achieve. I can unlock my thoughts and express myself, it's just a matter of finding a way.

"Are your legs just in a bit of a mess?" Child aged 5

I am hesitant to write this blog, partly because it's quite an emotional one but also because I don't want my next statement to be seen as an amazing feet of acceptance. Here goes: if I were offered a 'cure' for Cerebral Palsy or a magic potion that would make me able to walk I wouldn't take it. I realise that for a lot of able-bodied people this seems very strange but I wouldn't. This does not mean either that I don't find being disabled incredibly indescribably hard at times and always will but you see being disabled in a very complex thing. I have felt every emotion possible connected with having Cerebral Palsy and they are not always linked to finding things difficult.
When I was young, physios suggested that I have Botox in my legs to reduce my spasticity which I refused, not only because it was a physio's suggestion to which all my responses were no but because I find the idea of numbing my legs and therefore my condition hugely upsetting. I've always been protective over my legs because they are my emotional radar and I love that fact. I love that all I have to do is look at my legs to assess my mood. I am uniquely connected with them and this connection is something that I'd hate to lose. I would hate for them to be still because they never are and I wouldn't feel like myself.  I believe that for whatever reason, I was meant to have Cerebral Palsy, that my body is wired this way naturally and there is no need to alter my neurology. I think being disabled has given me insight into a world that I wouldn't have known and keeps me humble. I think the way that I relate to children is partly enhanced through experiences that I've had because I'm disabled. Most of all, I think there's a lot that needs to change in terms of how we view disability and I'd rather change this than myself. Cerebral Palsy lives in me and we have a nice arrangement (most of the time).

Your world quickly divides into those with imagination and those without

One thing that strikes me about being disabled is how it affects my ability to connect with others. This is because when you have a lifestyle that is out of the ordinary a lot of people just don't get it. I can understand to a certain extent that people are frightened of offending me, patronising me or feeling awkward but it's bloody annoying that I face the same ignorance over and over again. I find that people who I really connect with, have an ability to imagine what my life entails. I dont mean that they neccesarily have a profound insight into disability although that is obviously useful. I mean that they'll see me coming and open a door for me, or they'll ask if I need anything moved to make it easier to get around or they'll see me struggling to move a chair and they'll help me move it instead of watching me do it. You might think that most people would just do these things but I have not experienced that. People who do these things for me are a rare breed. I know I've said it time and time  again but the best most helpful folk are always the littlest. Children imagine all the time through stories and role play and I find they are instinctively good at knowing how to help because they naturally want to. I think we sometimes lose this ability to imagine as we get older and we live in our own little bubbles. I do not think that people don't help because they are evil, people are just busy and don't see barriers that don't affect them. Therefore a lot of people walk through a door and let it shut behind them because going through a door is an easy process but it's not for me. That's the difference...

My favourite topic-Paediatric physio

Of all the therapies that I had as a kid, Physio was my least favourite. I used to go to the Bobath Centre which specialises in helping children with cerebral palsy. Because of this, my parents thought it would be the best place to go to help my body be as flexible as it could be but I hated it from a very early age because I never got on with the therapists. I despised the way that they made me feel that I was weak and that my body was wrong and needed to be fixed. For somewhere that specialised in 'treating' (I hate that word) those with cerebral palsy they never seemed to be aware of fundamental aspects of my lovely condition such as the fact that your physical state is so reflective of your emotions. My legs are jumping a lot as I write this..exhibit A.
Therapists at Bobath seemed to love expressions like "this is a naughty leg today" and "that leg isn't very straight is it?" and it was always around this point that I'd turn from being quite an easy going child into one that was completely uncooperative and stubborn. Looking back, in some ways I feel sorry for them because I'm sure I was hard work but I always wanted to fight against this perception. I've always felt quite protective of the way that my legs are because they are my radar..they encapsulate every emotion that I've ever felt and I love their uniqueness. So I wasn't going to let anyone talk about them like they were an inconvenience. Also as someone that now works with children, I know that how you phrase things plays a vital part in getting a child to cooperate especially when you're asking them to do something that they fundamentally don't want to do. For me, physios were always lacking understanding of children and what motivates children because they didn't see a child they saw an abnormality. They didn't understand that disabled children are children first and that their disability is secondary to that fact.
When I was in year 4, we had to write 3 wishes and one of mine was that physios spent a day in a wheelchair. I always wanted to give them a wider understanding of what it was like to be disabled and what growing up in a wheelchair was really like. I'm sure I conveyed this view during many a tantrum in the lovely Bobath centre...but maybe slightly more angrily.
One of my biggest issues with physio was that when I was young they put a lot of emphasis on trying to get me to take steps and walk up and down parallel bars without ever explaining to me that this wouldn't necessarily lead to me walking. In a young mind walking exercises = walking = no more wheelchair = no more disability. So when the walking exercises dwindled and it became apparent that I couldn't walk unaided I experienced quite a big comedown. I was and still am so angry that they gave me false hope, that they never thought about my feelings or emotional development.
But alas, I think I've ranted enough. Physios and I never saw eye to eye...and probably never will.

My time, your time

I've learnt over the last five years of managing P.As independently that it is important to establish boundaries and set up expectations from the beginning.  Having somebody involved in most of your daily tasks is never easy and means that I don't run on my time very often. I tend to make my needs happen when it's convenient for others as opposed to when I actually need things and I therefore have learnt to make all of my needs fit in to other people's schedules. This is unavoidable when it's your family and friends helping you because they have their own things to do and cannot be available exactly when you need them. Nevertheless for me, causes huge levels of frustration and at times becomes unbearable. Therefore when have a P.A, someone who is employed to meet my needs,  I see it as an opportunity to run on my time, which gives me so much freedom. It might sound silly but knowing that I can say to myself 'no I won't go to the toilet now but I can go in ten minutes if I want to' puts me in a completely different mind frame about my life. Therefore one of my rules for my P.As is that my time is my time and their time is their time. That means that when I go shopping, that is time for me to shop not for them too for example. I don't know a single person who wouldn't be particular about the way in which they had help if they were in my shoes. I think if the person is right for the job they will get you as a person and understand what's important to you. They will also have the imagination to think about the effects of having people involved in every decision you make and will respect the fact that you need things done a certain way. Luckily for me, I have an amazing group of P.As often referred to as 'team Greene'. I have learnt that having the right people is so so important. I never want to be in a situation where my P.As are merely people who help me physically. For me, having people who I can have banter with and build friendships with makes having to have help with personal care so much easier. Lots of my P.As have become life-long friends who I really love and as many of them will read this I have to say; thank you team greene for all that you do.

'Why do you bring that wheelie chair with you?'

Cerebral palsy comes with me everywhere, in every situation that I'm in it's present. Sometimes I barely notice but there are other occasions where I'd love to just leave it at the door, enter and just be myself. See it's very hard to show who you are as a person when your legs are constantly jumping or you try to speak and no sound is produced. At times, this is my reality and it's a bloody annoying one. The thing is in some ways I love having a condition that mirrors how I feel because my legs are my radar, my way of keeping my emotions in check but the downside is that I can't hide how I'm feeling because my body reveals all.  I know in my head that my level of spasms and stammering will fluctuate forever and I also know that there's not much I can do to prevent this. But it does make me feel like an idiot, that I just can't get my body to comply with what I want it to do. I'm let down by my body because it doesn't always let me be me. At the same time, I don't hate my body or my condition for that matter and it's not my nemesis. It can't be. I can't live my life battling with the effects of my disability nor do I want to. It's just not always a harmonious duo...

"I'm normal at St Gideon's"

I avoided watching last weeks episode of Call the Midwife as I knew that it was about a lady with Down's syndrome becoming pregnant and was not sure if I could handle hearing the attitudes towards disability from the 1950s played out in front of me without getting upset. My avoidance lasted all of five days before curiosity got the better of me and I found myself watching the episode on Iplayer. You see, as much as I struggle to be faced with topics that are close to home, I also do not like being beaten by my emotions and I wanted to see how it was presented. In order to convince myself to watch it I remember thinking as it's about Down's syndrome it shouldn't be that hard for me to watch but then five minutes into the episode I saw Jacob and within seconds knew that he had Cerebral Palsy (I can spot the signs quite quickly) and therefore my previous thoughts weren't quite as true as I'd hoped.
 I can't deny that I found some parts very hard to watch particularly the scene with Jacob on the bus where he was not understood due to his speech impairment and the scene where he was given a cup of tea in a cup that he was unable to use. I have been in very similar situations myself and therefore I identify with them completely.  It was painful to revisit these experiences through the portrayal of this character and yet in a way I was happy that this was being represented on T.V.
 I guess I just don't know how to react to seeing other people with Cerebral Palsy or how I'm supposed to feel when I do, because although I do identify with it I'm used to living in a very able bodied world and do not know how to process this sudden immersion into the world of Cerebral Palsy. I'd love to feel comfortable going between the two but I struggle to know where I belong. In the able bodied world in which my friends and family are a part of but where I have to minimise my disabled self or the world of Cerebral Palsy that would provide me with a wealth of shared experience that I would love to have but where I fear my condition would become a defining feature of who I am seen to be. But then, is that really so bad?

The curse of planning, planning and more planning

Everything becomes a process when you are disabled. I quite often forget that I plan every movement in my day in a lot more detail than most people and that I schedule my needs for when they best fit other peoples timetables. I don't always think about the fact that this is not a normal way to go about your day but when I'm faced with the reality of the fact that I have adapted to my situation it is very painful. I am very good at planning and organising but this is mostly because I cannot afford not to be. I cannot simply get a drink when I am thirsty or go to the loo when I need it because I can't do these things by myself. I often feel like I live on other peoples time and therefore when I can get help I plan for all of my needs to be met within that time because there may not be another opportunity. I live with an enormous amount of fear that I will be in situations where I cannot get my needs met as I know that this is a vulnerability that I have. I, like anyone, feel a need for spontaneity but this is hard to achieve when your life is divided into P.A shifts. I always feel like I cannot undo my mistakes. By that I mean that if I leave my shoes in the middle of the floor I can't pick them up later. This is incredibly limiting.  I do not have the reassurance that self-reliant people have. I really crave to know what that must be like.

"I opened the door for the lady with blue eyes" Child aged 6

This was a beautiful moment last term, partly because the child opened the door for me without being asked to do so, which I always find touching, but then this is how she retold the event to her teacher. My first reaction was 'aww it's nice that she didn't 'see' the wheelchair' however the more I think about it the more guilty I feel for thinking that. You see I have to be careful because encouraging people to not 'see' the wheelchair has lead to several insensitive disability related jokes being made in front of me because people do not see me as a disabled person (whatever that means). So, on reflection, I realise that what I really felt was that it was nice that she saw that as a disabled person I would benefit from help with doors but that she also saw my blue eyes and decided that this feature was more important than my wheelchair when describing me. This to me, is a perfect balance between being thoughtful and yet not making disability define me. A skill that children seem to be good at mastering...

"Why can't you speak properly?" Child aged 5

Kids are great, they don't have any inhibitions or awareness about people's sensitivities and to be honest sometimes it is quite refreshing. Recently I have found it very hard to speak. Usually, speaking to children makes my speech much more fluent; I'm not entirely sure why but something about it being my comfort zone and the sing-song voice that most people adopt when with a small child makes it improve. However, in the last few weeks this has not been the case.

I have just started a block of speech therapy consisting of the usual breathing work and using soft sounds to start a word etc. All of this I have done before when I was a child and do not have the fondest memories associated with it. Any time I go back to therapy, I instantly think if all of my bad experiences of it and have to fight the 'fight or fly' reaction to it. But it's been very helpful, holistic and everything that I never thought therapy could actually be like so it's good.

Last week in speech therapy as I started to describe a very hard week with stammering and air all of my frustrations with not being able to express all of the thoughts in my head, how I can't 'jump' into a conversation at the right moment so I avoid speaking all together sometimes and bow unbelievably stupid I feel when I stammer I couldn't help but cry. This was not my intention as my childhood memories have taught me to not bring emotion to therapy as it never goes down too well, but it was too late to stop myself. They were very nice about it and helped me to realise that it doesn't make me look stupid at all. Since then, my speech has been so much better which is so nice, it makes me so happy that I'm able to get through one sentence without stopping and that I can talk to children without stopping over every word. I think I have downplayed the effect that my feelings about my stammer and the mountain of frustration that I feel towards it, has on my voice. I wish I could stop these feelings but I think it's a natural reaction to being trapped by your body and being unable to voice who you are and what you believe in. So my only solution is to vent more often, I needed to cry about it and will probably need to many more times in the future. I know that it'll fluctuate throughout my life as different stresses take their toll but I do not want to do myself a disservice by letting my stammer control when I speak. It will not win.

"My body belongs to different people"

I recently went to see a disabled stand-up comedian who spoke of his own experiences of living with cerebral palsy and the experiences of other disabled people. This was very strange for me because I don't spend much time with other disabled people and do not have friends with the same condition as me. It was nice because I felt that I could relate to many of the things that he said and so it normalised my own feelings towards my disability. For example, when he talked about having P.As he said 'its like my body belongs to lots of different people' and I thought that is so true and such a good way to phrase it. You see, I don't often let people into my thoughts, feelings and struggles that I have with being disabled because my friends and family don't always know how to respond. I don't mean they don't try, nor do I blame them for this because sometimes some of my experiences are so far outside of theirs that they just can't relate to it. But I've realised that I need to know other disabled people so that I can have a space to put my disability on the map, so that I can meet people who have experienced some of what I have experienced and so that my life story becomes less foreign to those around me and to myself. I don't just crave this to have someone that understands the difficulties, I also really want people who I can laugh with interviewing P.As or having a massive spasm in the 2 minute silence.... Not my finest hour!
It's strange to see other people with cerebral palsy because I suddenly realise that I'm on a spectrum of a condition which I don't really think about. It's difficult for me to see people who are more severly affected by the condition that I have. I don't interpret it as 'I'm so lucky' because I don't think that's fair to my situation plus it's quite offensive to the other disabled person. It's just that I think the only difference between my body and theirs is a tiny amount of brain damage and I don't know how to process this thought. In lots of ways though its comforting to know that what my legs do is typical of the condition that I have and I get to see what other people see when they look at me.
   I know that I have to stop pretending that I'm not disabled in social situations, by that I mean preventing myself from talking about the latest battle with social services or the patronising woman on the bus for example. I need to develop the confidence to bring my experiences into conversations because then I can feel that my disability is part of me not something to hide. In order to do this I think I have to try to make links with the disabled community because when I allow myself to acknowledge that my disability makes up a lot of who I am I think I'll feel more at peace with myself.

The graduate

I have a lot to process at the moment, I can't really believe I've done it (the getting a degree I mean) and I have no idea what my next steps are. I guess these feelings are 'normal' of most new graduates. I often have a hard time separating what feelings are 'normal' and those brought on by my situation because they are so interlinked and all of the 'normal' feelings are so magnified by the extra needs/considerations that I have. Though I do not always want to look at my achievements through a disabled lens, I know that I have overcome a lot of difficulties to get a degree and I should let myself acknowledge that. I think back to my visits to open days and being told that primary education was a very intense course, my year long struggle with social services to get funding for my help in which I was told that I should stop drinking tea so that I wouldn't need the toilet so much and the negative attitudes I dealt with on placement this year and I feel quite proud that I've done it. There is also a massive part of me that wants to go and shove my degree in all of those people's faces (that's the stubborn part of me coming out). I am very very determined and ultimately that has pulled me through but I've also really struggled with it and at times wanted to give up.  Nobody can be unaffected by people's reactions especially if they're negative and this year in particular has really shattered my confidence. It has been a very real struggle and I now need time off to process it and recover from the stress of it all. I'm looking forward to getting me back.

Pioneering the way forward

I have mixed thoughts on this. I am satisfied with the fact that I have made life easier for disabled children younger than me through paving the way forward in the schools that I have attended. I would also like to think that I've changed people's perceptions of disability and that through knowing me my friends/people I've worked with do not judge disabled people negatively. BUT I find myself thinking 'when can I stop pioneering and just be a person?'. It is hard to separate the duty towards being a disabled role model from my everyday life. Its a huge pressure and means that every setting I go into, there is an expectation that I will transform into the epitome of the life of the disabled which I'm just not. I do appreciate it when people recognise that I have battled against many obstacles and I do believe that there is a need to advocate change. It's just not a role I chose.

"Miss Greene, I did that all by my very own" Child, aged 5

Control and privacy are my biggest hurdles at times because I don't have a lot of either. I don't have the control or security of knowing that I can take care of myself and my own needs. I cannot decide what information about me is private and which is public. It's very difficult to feel in control when every decision that I make involves another person and when four or five people are involved in my personal care every week. I do not want to live my life being vulnerable or dependent on others. I am sometimes desperate to just be me and take care of myself but I know that it's a scary position for me to be in because I'm vulnerable and am without the support I need. It's hard for me to live life being forced into the position of a child and without the independence that I crave. One of the reasons that I am drawn to teaching is that I can identify with children in this way. I have to get a balance between being on my own and struggling and having support and privacy. I have not yet found a way to do this.

"Do you have hiccups?" Child aged 5

Up until three or four years ago, I never found stammering particularly frustrating. I was always of the mindset that I had bigger fish to fry and therefore didn't really pay much attention to my speech. But as I went to uni, my stammer changed, I don't like saying it got worse but it was definitely stronger and there were days when I just couldn't get words out as opposed to just stuttering now and then. This has been the case now for the last three years. The thing is, I know that going to university was inevitably going to cause a part of my condition to be affected as it was such a big change but I can't sit back and think 'oh well, that's life'. It is hugely frustrating and now affects every conversation that I enter into. At times, it makes me not want to start speaking because I know I'll have to keep stopping. The most annoying thing is that I cannot feel frustrated about it because this feeling makes it stronger so I pretend to myself that it's fine.
People often think I am 'more disabled' than I am because of my speech. This affects me more than words can describe. I don't think many people realise that lots of people equate wheelchair with learning difficulty and that for most of my childhood, when I met new people, I would be spoken to as if I were two and I know that if I spoke fluently, this stereotype would quickly be dismissed. I wish I didn't think this, but I am constantly looking for ways to make myself 'more normal' to fit into mainstream life and society. Stammering for me goes against this need.
I think it's also difficult because there aren't clear triggers and it doesn't happen when I'm nervous (a common misconception of stammering) nor am I clear in my head about whether its linked to, caused or perpetuated by having Cerebral Palsy.
I'm also still trying to find ways to explain it to children when they ask 'do you have hiccups' or 'can you not talk properly' but this is hard to do when I cannot even understand it fully myself!
Just a little advice: I couldn't do a blog on stammering without mentioning that I hate when people finish off my sentences for me. I am not the only stammeree who feels this way so please don't be tempted to do it. I know it's hard to watch someone struggle to get words out but it just adds to the frustration and makes me feel inadequate. There is more to life than speaking quickly (I just wish I'd listen to my own advice)

"Do you sleep in that in your bed?" Child aged 4

For me, having Cerebral Palsy is sometimes like having something missing. There are times that I think however happy I feel, being disabled will reduce this feeling-it will in some ways always make me sad but there are other times when I hardly think about it. I sometimes feel a sense of grief for myself that I never walked and that I will never be totally independent and I wonder what life would have been like if I had. But I do not allow myself to dwell on this for too long because it would ruin my life. I am not bitter nor am I resentful towards my situation. People often say to me 'you must think, why me' but I never do. I do not like this type of attitude because I find it quite self- indulgent. I was born with a condition and I have to get on with my life. My goal is and always has been to achieve my own personal best and concentrate on how to make life easier. I can't say that I never think about what could have been or about how nice it would be to not have a disability but I have lots of good things in my life and I tend to focus on those.

"Shall I put your footplate down for you Miss Greene?"

I know that I will encounter much negativity and ignorance in the future especially in relation to my choice of career. But I shouldn't have to face it. Having a disability does not prevent me from being a good teacher and it is not easy to be seen in this light no matter how much I try to stop it bothering me. I know that having a disability affects most aspects of my life and I'm okay with that but there are two main aspects that I never wanted it to impact upon, one of which is teaching.  My whole life has been geared towards achieving this aim as teaching is the only thing that I have ever wanted to do. I love working with children and helping them learn new things. It gives me a level of satisfaction that I do not get in any other situation. I am so passionate about education and helping people realise and achieve their potential. Despite this, I know that some people will only ever see a wheelchair and that there is very little I can do about that but I can gurantee it won't be the children I teach. I often think children aren't given enough credit, they are so open-minded and non-judgemental and I wish adults would take note of this. This is why I find comments that indicate that children don't feel comfortable/are harmed by being exposed to disability the most offensive. Most children just ask and then move on. My current placement class have just realised they have a doll in a wheelchair and keep bringing it to me saying 'look, its you!' (even though the doll does not look like me in the slightest) its brilliant because they are happy to make the association and to talk about disability. I am saddened that disability discrimination is still rife in the 21st century and that people aren't always willing to be flexible and adapt things to make them more inclusive. I will never teach in the same way as an able-bodied person would because I can't but there are plenty of ways to teach and I will find what works for me. I remember working in my gap year and it got to the summer term and I had made tyre tracks in the sand outside and one of the children was trying to work out why. He knew that they'd come from wheels but when asked 'who brings wheels to school?' he couldn't answer it because he no longer saw a wheelchair, he saw me.

"Do you need a licence to drive that?" Child aged 5

Soon after,  I started volunteering at my old primary school a little girl started at the school. She too has Cerebral Palsy and she came into the nursery which I was working in at the time. Once she started she was fitted for an electric wheelchair because prior to this she was pushed around in a buggy. Wheelchair Services with their excellent timing arrived half way through the end of year teddy bear's picnic which understandably was much more exciting to a four year old than trying out a wheelchair but I helped to coax her into it. As soon as she got into the chair, she started smiling as for the first time ever she had been enabled to move independently and make decisions about where she wanted to go. I was very pleased that on some level I helped ease this experience for her and for the rest of the morning we had wheelchair races as she learnt how to navigate her chair and feel in charge of her mobility level.
I'm so proud that I was there regularly as she moved through the school from nursery to year two and that to her I was a 'teacher' who sat down. It was very surreal to watch her live her childhood with a disability and how mature, perceptive and determined she was as a result. These are all qualities that my mum said I had when I was young and I watched them being played out in front of me.I saw how I could be a role model for her in a very 'unbobish' way. I always let her lead conversations about disability as I felt that there was no need to make her face it constantly. I much preferred asking her how her day was and what she had learnt in science and get to know her as a child first. I didn't want to make her perceive disability in the way that I do because she has the right to her own opinions about it (though I was stunned when she told me she really enjoyed physio).
I specifically remember when she was in year two and she whizzed up to me to tell me that she had new footplates all excitedly. It made me feel quite emotional that she had told me that because she knew I could relate to it. I often think of her now as a year five child and am saddened by all of the battles and negativity I know she is likely to encounter but I hope that as she has my level of determination and strong will that she will win through and not have to reevaluate her views of physio!