We all try to make the world a better place. We all have our pet struggles. I try to make the world better for my fellow disabled people, specifically in the areas of inclusive education, access to public places and access to communication aides. I naturally have people who disagree with me. My father points out facts which he thinks I have overlooked. Yet there is absolutely no hostility between us: we both present arguments, debate what we see as the facts, and attempt to come to a solution which we are both happy with. Despite our differences in this area, we still eat together, we still hug etc.

This is as it should be – the paradigm of all argument. I have no doubt that messieurs Blair and Howard have dined together on occasion. They’re possibly good friends. Science too is full of debate – one scientist posits an argument in paper X, which his fellow scientist may disprove in paper Y. The two scientists may be good friends, and go to quasar together.

The only way to solve problems is through rational, logical debate. Through posit and counter-posit. In the inclusion debate, I often cite the CSIE – the centre for Studies into Inclusive education – among other places. This is how problems should be solved.

Yet, today in Britain, there are a few people who do not believe in this. They think their problems can only be solved through violence – through blowing themselves and others up. I find myself asking whether you can have a debate with the terrorists – can you sit down and talk through their grievances? I find the fact that the answer may be no truly scary. We do not know what their aims are. Indeed, some say their aim is to destroy the western world, a fact which I’d like to disbelieve due to its sheer lunacy but sadly cannot.

The problems in Ireland were solved through debate – through discussion. This week, the IRA agreed to decommission, which is truly great, but this happened only through debate, yet al Qa’ida seems to have no political arm – nobody you can debate with. Nobody from that organisation will listen to argument, and, frankly, this fact scares me.

It means this war is endless.

as you may or may not have noted, the hitcounter on my site is dodgy. One second iit says I have over 2000 hits, the next, 49. I have no idea why it does this, but it is irritating.

My stupid computer can’t count!

I think I’ll reserve judgement on this for a bit longer. I am, of course with burke – his wishes should be respected – but I do not yet fully understand the GMC’s position on this.

any thoughts anyone?

One of the earliest known creatures to walk on two legs is called lucy, whose fossil remains were found in east Africa – Ethiopia, I believe. She is ancient, but what is interesting about lucy is the size of her brain. It is comparable to a modern monkeys.

In other words, you don’t have to be very clever to walk upright, what counts is your ability to interact with others, and be happy, regardless of how you get from a to b. Bipedalism is overrated. Ok, I’m happy to trot about the house – the ability to raid the fridge is valuable – and my controlled falls around campus have their uses, but my point is walking is not the be all and end all. Its easier – and probably safer – to go in my chair. The preconception that the disabled must walk at all cost stems from ancient ideas of what it is to be human, which stem from the bible. These ideas mean that disabled kids are subjected to all sorts of often painful physio during time when their non-disabled peers are learning, playing, or just being kids. Thus the benefits of walking must be weighed against the costs: after all, a wheelchair does the job perfectly well. If a child is happy not walking, why should it be subjected to painful therapies against its will. (this, incidentally, is the social model as I understand it)

Of course, I have no intention of abandoning walking, I’m just saying that other ideas should be engaged, ideas which do not demand that ‘thou shalt walk upright with both heels on the floor.’ For reference, see this

I’ve been eating readybreak for years when I’m home. I’m not really a fan of breakfast: it’s something to get out of the way before the day starts. Breakfasts at university re rather cool, but at home, the meal is kind of dull.; so I have readybreak, and have eaten it since the great wheetabix rebellion. Whoever’s about just pours the powder into a bowl, adds milk and some flavouring, and bungs it into the microwave.

However, this morning mum put too much milk into the mix, making it slightly harder for me to eat.

I was thus eating this sloppy stuff, listening to radio four. I rather like radio four – it keeps me up to date with the world, at least until I check the news online. This morning, there was a segment about a chap who wants to bring back grammar schools, and I listened to it intently.

Does he have any idea how damaging the two-tier education system was? It helped maintain the class system in this country, making sure only the privileged got an education. The privileged being children who had parents who could spend time teaching their children enough to pass the eleven plus, that is, those in the middle class. Thus, the system was self for filling, and helped perpetuate the class system. The secondary moderns were dumping grounds.

The parallels with special schools are obvious, and you can see why I was so incensed by this guy on the radio, especially when he pronounced ‘social inclusion was a nice idea, but it does not work’. What? And this guy is supposed to be educated. Where – a midden? The principals of inclusion can and will work. They must work, unless we want a return to the class system. I’m not suggesting that the disabled are a class, per se, just that we have as much right to a good education as anyone else – a right that we are currently being denied by being sent to special schools, and that many will be denied should the grammars be brought back.

‘Idiot’ I said, to my bowl.

Suddenly, mum looked aghast, and dad looked angry. Mum’s face seemed to say ‘I’ve already apologised for making it so sloppy.

I realised what had happened. I waited two, three seconds, then smiled ‘I meant the radio, mum,,’ I said. She smiled.

I bet the guy on the radio couldn’t make readybreak!

I have, of late, come upon the opinion that the siblings of disabled people are, quite often, remarkable people. Take, for example, my brother Luke: mum and dad were both away this weekend, so he was home to ‘look after’ me. Not only did he do this remarkably – even bathing and shaving me last night – but he spent the entire weekend reading Harry Potter and the Half Blood prince to me. All 30-odd chapters, aloud! Incredible. I suspect he wanted to read it too, but that’s besides the point.

My point is that he could have scarppered to his room and ignored me, but he didn’t. last weekend, I was struck y the fact that none of the siblings of disabled young people were staring at me. Upon reflection, this isn’t surprising – presumably, they had been around disabled people all or most of their lives, so they were ‘used to’ us crips. Incidentally, this is yet another argument for inclusive education.

I am, of course, making gross generalisations here, but I have found that the brothers and sisters of disabled people are, by and large, good people. Presumably, they would have seen much of the privations of their disabled siblings, for example, beings told ‘we can’t go here because we can’t get little X’s chair in.

The bottom line is, I don’t tell mark or Luke I appreciate them as much as I should. I love you, bros.

This morning I heard that the man shot dead on Friday in London was innocent. He was an innocent Brazilian, not a terrorist. Now, it seems, the police can shoot dead whoever they suspect off being a suicide bomber, and, frankly, this fact scares me.

I think the government is gittery: two weeks ago, we faced a concerted terrorist attack on a scale and in a style never seen before. This past Thursday, there was an attempt to repeat that. And, early on Saturday, there was a huge attack in Egypt. Little wonder that the government is proposing tougher terrorism laws.

Yet this begs the question: where is this going to end? We are bound to see even tougher laws now, which will probably restrict our individual freedoms further. Will we be prevented from buying certain products which could, potentially, be made into bombs? Will we be prevented from meeting in groups of more than, say, three? This could make Christmas dinner interesting. All joking aside, these are the types of changes, I think, which will logically have to occur if we are truly to defend ourselves. Thus if you look at it like this, if we are to maintain our freedoms, as we know them now, we will have to leave ourselves open to the risk of more terrorist attacks.

Wow. I’m being deep for a Sunday morning. Bombs or not, I better go find breakfast!

how come as soon as either of my brothers get here, things go crazy. luke showed me this earlier prosecution exhibit A. See? absolutely crazy. I rest my case

dispite the if not tragic then worrying events of this afternoon, as outlined here, London tonight seems to be slowly getting back to normal. at the time of writing, details are patchy. why were there no big explosions, and who was the man arrested ten minutes ago in whitehall. reguardless, I just want to say hi to all my friends in the capital – if you could drop me a message, it’dd be cool.

bugger! we just lost a third wicket. 18 for 3. aussies all out 190

I think this is rather good. I’v had friends with DMD, and I really appreciate such progress.

On the other hand, this really does make me angry. It’s about a t-bll coach who gave $25 to a team member to beat up another team member with learning difficulties so he wouldn’t have to let him play. the reason – the coach ‘wanted to win’. GMAFB! what an asshole

I better open this by saying that, this morning, I feel more comfortable with my world than I have done for two or three years. during that time, I lamented my failings as a disabled person, and generally felt sorry for myself, but the last few months made me realise what rubbish that was – I am no more disabled than anyone else. My ramblings may still be ill-informed, but I do not feel quite so crippled.

I haven’t, however, discovered some magical cure for Cerebral palsy, well, not in the medical sense anyway. I have simply realised that I have as much potential as anyone else. With the right accommodation, the sky is the limit, and then only until NASA make a rocket with hand controls. In my chair I can go anywhere. In a sense, I am only disabled by steps, and then a ramp can be put in place. I cant talk clearly, but with my lightwriter I am as eloquent as anyone. I am only disabled by the lack of ramps and lightwriters; by environmental and social factors which can quite easily be resolved.

This brings me nicely on to this weekend. A few months ago, a friend – either Becca or Katie, I cant remember – asked me if I would be interested in volunteering to become a role model for 1Voice. This is an organisation which helps children and teenagers who use voice output communication aids, or VOCAs, by organising for them to interact with older voca users, or ‘role models’. When Katie asked if I wanted to become a role model, outlining what it would be involved, I knew it would be a privilege. I seem to recall mum once saying she wished I had such a role model. At school, there were only four or five voca users, and I was the only non-oral person in my class. Thus, I did not know what could be done – the thought of going to university seemed far fetched – would everybody be patient enough to allow me to speak.

The answer to that is a resounding yes, but I did not know that, aged fifteen or so. This is precisely why the role model project is so great. If we can show these kids what can be done, they can realise their potential is as high as anyone else. There is, arguably, a tendency for young disabled people to think otherwise, but it is total rubbish: they can do GCSEs, A-levels; they can do anything. Yesterday afternoon, I was talking to a mother with a young daughter, and I told her I had no doubt that, eventually, she would go to university. This was not a throw away platitude: the girl was abundantly bright. With the right adaptations, and under the right conditions (this, of course, means a mainstream education) I do not have one iota of a doubt that this girl can forfil any of her dreams.

I sincerely hope that the young people got as much from this weekend as I did. I remember eating dinner on Saturday with a young lady called Beth. I must admit that I was drawn towards Beth because she was a fellow lightwriter user. She had a grin so wide and a face so bright that it would almost dazzle you. We were telling jokes, and we were all falling about with laughter. When Beth told a joke, her face light up with glee as we all fell about laughing. It had taken her some time to tap it in. I hope to remember that image for the rest of my life.

Then there was Adam, a small boy with hair so red he could almost be a Weasley. I watched him, yesterday, walk around, supported by his mum, picking up and throwing a ball, and I thought ‘I remember doing exactly that with my mum.’ I saw a lot of myself in those kids, and many of the problems they came up with during the brainstorming sessions were problems I had faced too. I had never felt less alone.

If I can help these kids by being a role model then it is my duty to do so. One parent told me a story – before coming to 1voice, his son had only used his voca to do school work, but after he used his voca to chat to his friends and siblings, which he had ever done before. Chatting is an extremely important part of one’s development, as is playing, so it was great to hear that 1voice gave this child realise he can do such things.

Thus this weekend made me remember things I had forgotten, and it taught me things I did not know. Katie was worried that I had a negative view of disability – I have waxed lyrical on my blog about how disabled kids were doomed to go into homes et cetera. What bollocks: the day a person like Beth goes Into a home is the day Satan wins gold at women’s Olympic figurescating.

Thus to associate disability with boundaries is to associate the moon with good cream cheese. I can see no boundaries, no limitations to disabled people, provided that the right support structures are in place. 1voice is one such structure, as vital as anything else. And if I can be a part of that, then I am honoured.

I just got back from the Onevoice weekend in Lilleshall, which was wonderful, and indeed life-affirming. To see all the kids use their vocas in harmony, happily chatting away is truly great. I will tell you all about it tomorrow, when I’m less tired.

I certainly hope, however, that this will be the first of many such trips! I hope, too, that these young people got as much out of it as I did.

this makes me very angry. do such people even read the book. how can this preacher say this? potter is brringing kids back to reading, and these religious idiots want to repress it, like they did in the middle ages. its religion that is evil

This time a week ago I was at uni helping out on a taster day for a local school. It was a nice day, and things were going rather well. The G8 leaders were up in Scotland, trying to deal with the problems of Africa (which I very much care about. I hope people do not forget about Africa in the middle of this. Here’s a thought perhaps the Americans did it to distract us from helping Africa. Just kidding). I was looking forward to a long, good summer – plenty of books to get through, plenty of writing to do, plenty of films to watch.

I am not saying this summer won’t be good. Yesterday, I went to Stratford upon Avon. I had wanted to go since I first properly encountered William Shakespeare properly aged 14. before then, we had simply been given overviews of the plot when studying the bard, so it was at 14 or 15 when I firs encountered the ext, and, philologist that I was, I lapped it up. It seemed exceptionally beautiful to me. From that time on, I had wanted to visit Stratford, and yesterday I did. Unfortunately, I found the place quite a grockle trap, but a pretty grockle trap. The Avon is a beautiful river, much like the Isis, with mighty theatres on one side end parkland on the other. Time and money were too short to go to any plays (besides which, it was too hot to go to a stuffy theatre), but, crowds or no, we had a pleasant few hours there.

Thus, my summer is not wrecked by last week’s atrocities, and nor is the spirit of this country. Judging by the masses of people I saw yesterday, England is open for business as usual, as it was in the summer of 1942, and as it was almost 400 years ago, in 1606, when the bard was where we were yesterday, walking by the same river, I imagine.

And as it will probably be in 400 more years.

no prises for guessing who directed this. It looks incredibly similar, stylistically, to lord of the rings. It reminds me of two poems written by the same hand, and I take it as evidence for the auteur model of film production. Even so, it looks cool, if derivative in terms of mise-en-scene

It’s too hot to write much. My arms are complaiing more than usual, saying ‘lets just go watch telly’ anyway, I was just over at comingsoon.net, and noted that Johnny depp is due to play willy wonka in Dahls classic. Now, although its kid’s trash, and hardly arthouse, I’m a fan of the original, even though I maintain it was inspired by something only found legal in Amsterdam, which was part of it’s charm. I’m always wary of remakes – they’re never as good as the original, bearing the taste of cheap copies. Nevertheless, I’m still in my post lord of the rings optimistic mode, so we must wait and see

spare a thought for these poor, poor people. wouldn’t it be est just to let them pass on?

I live n the north of England. It’s quiet here, and the only remotely newsworthy event is that I have missed breakfast. However, currently my thoughts are in the capital. I’ve been in London several times, and while I cannot profess to know it well, I rather like it. Mum’s from London, as is Bill, my PA. I think about my friends down south, and this morning I read Lisy Babe’s blog, whose account I found rather frightening as it made the tragedy seem more personal somehow.

There’s a part of me that wants our country to seek out and destroy the culprit, kind of a ‘Nobody fucks with us’ attitude’. But this is base. But we are British, and revenge is not cricket. I am proud of the act that Londoners are going about their lives, as usual. We are indeed a resilient bunch, as the blitz showed. At the same time, there was something Churchillian in tony Blair’s speeches after the attack: a woeful resignation, yet a strength.

There is little doubt that our involvement in the war on terror caused this, especially Iraq. But approve or not – and I certainly didn’t – we better pull together, screw our courage to the sticking place, and remain defiantly British.

peeraps today, posting the following might be prudent.

[quote=”Mattie stepeneckurl:http://www.oprah.com/tows/pastshows/tows_past_20011101_b.jhtml”%5DFor Our World We need to stop.

Just stop.

Stop for a moment…

Before anybody

Says or does anything

That may hurt anyone else.

We need to be silent.

Just silent.

Silent for a moment…

Before we forever lose

The blessing of songs That grow in our hearts.

We need to notice.

Just notice.

Notice for a moment…

Before the future slips away

Into ashes and dust of humility.

Stop, be silent, and notice…

In so many ways, we are the same.

Our differences are unique treasures.

We have, we are, a mosaic of gifts

To nurture, to offer, to accept.

We need to be.

Just be.

Be for a moment…

Kind and gentle, innocent and trusting,

Like children and lambs, Never judging or vengeful

Like the judging and vengeful.

And now, let us pray,

Differently, yet together, Before there is no earth, no life,

No chance for peace.

September 12, 2001

Matthew Joseph Thaddeus Stepanek[/quote] sacharrine, yes, but relevant

Things just get better and better. I have a great life at uni, a great family; I’ve had a top year, better than I can ever imagine. And now, London has won the 2012 Olympics. This is great news. However, I now have an overwhelming temptation to gloat at the French. I won’t be the first to note that the 200th anniversary of the battle of Trafalgar, another occasion where we beat the French, was this week, and the Olympic celebrations are going on in Trafalgar square as I write. Oh, what a pretty coincidence?

Seriously though, commiserations to our French, Spanish, American and Russian rivals. I think the Olympics will be great for London (hopefully, it will get them to do something about disabled access to public transport) and the whole country. I only hope we can build the stadium in time. The builders need to take less tea breaks.

Nice one London.

It is very hard not to be xenophobic sometimes, but currently both the Americans and French are peeving me. Ok, certain sections of American and French people are pissing me off, like their leaders. I think the French are being rather selfish with reference to the cap, but I fear I do not have sufficient knowledge to properly comment on it. I just know what I’ve heard from the media.

Thus I will return to my old standby of getting rat at the Americans. Would you believe some of them are saying we should forget about Africa, with the grouchy old cripple claiming that most countries in Africa are socialist, and thus deserve their fate. Such cementers say we should leave Africa alone. What? Not only is that inhumane, but utterly stupid! It is the exploits of the western powers that got Africa into this mess, and therefore we have a right to get them out. Moreover, we will not be doing this by simply throwing money at the problem, but buy doing things like cancelling debt, which will help Africans sustain their selves.

Worryingly, the American government seems to be burying their head in their sand over such issues. This morning, I read this guardian article about how the US government will not sign anything looking like Kyoto, because it might hurt the american economy. Well, boohoohoo. A few fat stupid men in Stetsons won’t get so much money. Well, I say fuck them! To hell with these selfish pricks in their ivory towers. The world needs to change, and fast. I was speaking to Mum yesterday on the probability of a third live aid concert in twenty years, as predicted by Kate over IM: mum pointed out that it was entirely contingent on our western world staying stable, and the chances are, it won’t. pretty soon, we agreed, there will be an almighty bust up over fuel – we’re talking about the end of the world as we know it. Mind you, they said that of the cold war, and that fizzled out.

The point is, climate change is a reality, and we must take action. If, however, many Americans have mindsets such as those held by denny wilson then I must admit I see little hope for humanity.

Make poverty history. Go here

There are days when, for all it’s savageness, humankind impresses me. Days which will live on in memory for centuries. I really feel today is such a day. The day when humanity came together o do something great. Perhaps it is naive to pin much hope on live 8 – after all, live aid did not seem to have a great effect – but I am a naive kind of person. If the events around the world today change the fortunes of Africa, then it is all good.

I have been wondering about one thing recently though: how can music do this? How can music change the world? As a student of film, I know music is a major part of mise-en-scene: it commands the mood of the film. A few seconds of a simple series of notes tells us that 007 is about to make something explode; it is the imperial march that gives vader such an air of ominousness; and so on. Music adds another dimension, not only o film, but to life.

It is everywhere we go – we even play it in our internal monologues. On Wednesday, I was at my friend Robert’s place, playing music with friends. We had invited two members of a band from Zimbabwe, who had been playing at artscool, round, and we just jammed. I was given a shaker to play, and it was cool, listening to music, and singing. My friend rich, I discovered, is an excellent drummer,; there were a couple of people playing acoustic guitars; Simba was on the thumb piano; Rob and I were on shakers. That moment, when Rob’s small house filled with music, was utter bliss.

Music is truly powerful stuff. It can fill a soul with joy. It is also a force, unto itself, and one which sir Bob Geldof has chosen to fight poverty. And you know what? I think it is up to the task.

This week I’ve been helping at the first mmu artscool. This is where local schoolchildren come in to the Crewe campus to perform and do all kinds of art-based activities. Although I now feel knackered, it has been a privilege to work on such an event. Over the last two days there have been something like 1500 schoolkids on campus with about 200 performers and artists. I was one of about 50 student helpers, who are all a great lot. I have never seen so much vibrancy – there were kids there whose age ranges from 5 to 18, from mainstream and SEN. One of the best outcomes is that I’ll be working with (among others) Springfield school this autumn. Springfield is a local special school, which means I can better acquaint myself with the special school system, which will help me be a better campaigner for incklusion.

Well, I’m shattered. Goodnight all.

[written yesterday, but my site was down]