DPAC supports the vision for a fully inclusive education system and this blog by Frances Sammi-Strong helps to explain why. We may not think this can happen overnight but like independent living and the closure of care homes and Adult Treatment Units this must be something that disabled people who believe in full equality of disabled people strive to achieve.
Many thanks for permission to re-blog this article.
A few thoughts about so called ‘Special’ Education
The following article does not diminish my affection for St Margaret’s and Valence Schools that I attended from ages 7 to 19. most of my childhood memories are of these places. On balance segregating me from my non disabled peers was harmful but there were many good things that I gained from the experience:
I gained primary education where no other was available in 1947, just after WWII; The experience made me more able to get along with people, some of whom I didn’t like very much; I learned that you don’t always get what you want from life, no matter how much you grumble; It made me more able to cope with difficult situations and the constant contol of those in authority gave me a strong resolve to resist this in adulthood; The almost constant presence of other children made me appreciate my own company and gave me the ability to slip away and find my own quiet places. The whole experience gave me ‘character’, (Now there’s an old fashioned concept but this has been a great asset to me and I realise this daily when I see other people ‘falling apart’ with their problems!).
I am an emotionally strong person. I not only survived ‘special education’, I also gained from it but I missed out on so much too.
Imagine a place where your every need is catered for: Your food appears on the dining room table every day. You never see it on a supermarket shelf, never see it prepared or smell it cooking. You are clothed, kept clean, even the number of times that you open your bowels is meticulously logged.
All of your time, including your leisure time, is supervised. You are frequently watched to ensure that you aren’t able to take any small risk that could harm you.
Imagine then, that when you are taken to this place you are separated from your parents and your siblings. You have to give up your own room, most of your toys and everything that you have ever known. You are subjected to strict regimes. You are made to sleep in a dormitory with seven other children who are complete strangers, some who snore loudly and some with very bad habits.
Lastly imagine that you are only seven years old.
HOW WOULD YOU HAVE BEEN AFFECTED AS A SEVEN YEAR OLD CHILD IF THIS HAD HAPPENED TO YOU?
Most children are fairly resilient and, after a period of adjustment, they usually adapt to their new situation and some of the stronger ones gain from the experience as they become older. I was lucky – At least I went away to school with my brother so I had one link with home.
There are many arguments for and against segregated residential education and experts on either side will strongly defend their particular stance. As a survivor of this system of education I ground my arguments on my own experience of having spent eleven years, (Nearly my whole childhood), in these institutions away from my family and my home town. Based on these experiences and their outcomes I am firmly against the concept of, so called, ‘special education’ as a ‘first, second or third option’, [Just as I am against institutional ‘care’ in later life]. This option should only be used as a very last resort, especially these days when there are so many better choices available.
When I first went to St Margaret’s in 1947 I coped fairly well by keeping to myself, (Many of my school reports read, “Won’t mix”). My brother Arthur who was over 2 years older than I, and who was far more outgoing, fared less well than I did. When he became older and had a lifelong resentment about his time away from home. During the car journey to school at beginning of term he frequently cried persistently but then, when we arrived, he ‘fell in with his friends’ and the tears were forgotten. I, on the other hand, just stayed inside my shell with my thoughts. Interacting when I needed to do so but otherwise keeping much to myself. It was convenient though to have my big brother ‘on hand’. When I was bullied Arthur always came to my rescue.
All the kids must have been affected in different ways and carried their scars from this experience with them through later life.
St Margaret’s School gave me a good primary education and there were many very special events and insights that I could never have experienced at home. My, (also segregated, residential), secondary school taught me other life skills but educationally didn’t ever ‘stretch’ me as St Margaret’s did, thus depriving me of even basic ‘O’ and ‘A’ level qualifications, well within my capabilities if I’d had more pressure and more encouragement. Generally at the secondary school if a child was interested in a subject they were encouraged, if not they were ignored. I quickly learned at my second school how to deal with not so nice people but I would have to learn how to deal with non disabled ones after I left school, (for at school we were segregated!).
I do have to confess that outside of my lessons I had a lot of fun ‘beating the system’ at both schools, (When people under estimate your intelligence this is very easy to get away with, without being considered to be ‘naughty’ or ‘disruptive’).
The safe cocoon of a world that I had lived in from the age of 7 until I was 19 wasn’t the main problem but the fact that I had been segregated away from society, my home town and my family certainly was the sole cause of the problems that I experienced after I left school.
The problems that first manifested themselves were the fact that my peers from school were scattered around the United Kingdom and in some cases the Commonwealth. One day I was living in this extended community where I had to interact with many people and then suddenly I had no friends at all. With no work or established social life there was little prospect of making any new contacts. I knew nobody of my own age group in my home town.
On the other hand; Children and young adults in my neighbourhood hadn’t grown up with disabled children, (indeed they were also segregated). As far as they were concerned disabled people were a race apart. Many of these children of all ages were merciless in their teasing and bullying. Most of this was verbal abuse but a number of times I had groups of children hiding behind the next door houses hedge running in unison to knock me over, as I struggled to cross the footpath to my car.
If you isolate a group of people you turn the individuals in that group into something less than human and make then an obvious target for abuse. Better to have had a bit of bullying at school in a controlled environment and had it over and done with rather than to be hit with it as a teenager when you’re already having a tough time with all the hormone changes.
The next problem arose after leaving residential school: When Arthur and I were little my parents were told by the medics that, “They are mentally deficient. Better to put them into a hospital”. That advice was being given, [and taken], all over the country. It took parents as strong as mine to challenge medical advice in an age when doctors were viewed almost as gods.
As a result of this, when I left school there was still a relatively small number of disabled young people coming into the employment market. On my weekly visit to the Labour Exchange when I asked for work my requests always produced a range of emotions by the officers ranging from pity to irritated impatience. No work was forthcoming.
The only options offered were day centres or sheltered employment miles from home; More segregation to maintain the status quo!
The problems don’t go away either – even at the age of 69! My older sister Pat died. On going through her photos I was suddenly struck by the fact that I had totally missed out on Pat’s childhood and teenage years, also my younger brother’s childhood – They in turn had missed out on Arthur’s and mine,
I am strong and I survived in spite of the system – many didn’t!
Segregating children for education purposes; Segregating disabled adults and older people in institutions is a really bad idea, not only for those who are segregated but for Society as a whole!
