I helped to design, build and write content for CP-NETs Five-Year report. It was an excellent opportunity to practise and further develop my writing, editing and web-design skills. Check it out here.
A little video I helped to create with CP-NET about the F-words:
Scott & I are back! In this episode we discuss their experiences with Cerebral Palsy and try to figure out when C.P. Awareness Month actually is. We debate the potential need and reasons for a figurative holiday celebrating individuals with the diagnosis. Give it a listen here.
I’m also participating in a free CP-NET webinar on Friday April 21 from 11:30 a.m.-12:30 p.m.: Growing Up with CP: Mental Health and Well-being. Please register, save the date and share with your network. See the event poster here.
Check out my latest collaboration with the Ontario Brain Institute:
Twice in the past couple of weeks––once at a CP-Net Stakeholders meeting and at the OFCP Annual General Meeting–my attention has been drawn to “The Six F-words for CP:” function, family, fitness, fun and future.
At first, I admit, that these sounded like a too obvious and overly simplified solution in the struggle to find a realistic and helpful approach to life with CP. But I was nonetheless intrigued, and aware that I may be too cynical towards such things.
The review article, “The F-words in childhood disability: I swear this is how we should think!” written by Peter Rosenbaum, from the CanChild Centre for Childhood Disability Research at MacMaster University, and Jan Willem Gorter, from NetChild Network for Childhood Disability Research in the Netherlands, was provided in my OFCP AGM package. I thought why not give it a read?
And I was pleasantly surprised. While I still believe this approach is a bit obvious, I appreciate that it, although published in September 2011, is gaining traction within the research and treatment community.
While I invite you to read this article for yourself, there are a some key, exciting, points of revelation worth mentioning:
First, the traditional medical model of diagnosing and “fixing” doesn’t work with CP. Put simply, CP is too complex and effects each of us differently, even, for example, two people who technically have the same type of CP. Thus, there is no short list of go-to treatments, no cure all. Not to mention that results are often only small and gradual after persistent, sometimes lifelong, treatment. Our quality of life can be improved but we cannot be fixed. At this point, such an absolute goal will only lead to frustration and disappointment.
Second, one does not need to do something, such as walk or talk, normally in order to be functional. Conventional development is a reasonable guide, but by no means the only way of doing things. I often explain, to people who inquire about my limitations, that I can do everything an able-bodied person can do, just maybe in a different way. Just as someone else may wear glasses to see, I use canes to walk. What’s important is that children with CP be given the opportunity, and assisted as necessary, to learn how to function to the best of their ability in a way that works for them. Fine-tuning their performance of these functions will naturally over time.
Third, treatment and counselling should include not only the child with a disability, but their family as well. Explaining the child’s condition and treatments––and making sure they understand––can help parents, grandparents and/or siblings make peace with this new reality and move forward to a happy and fulfilling life for all. This could mean helping with exercises, finding accessible activities for the whole family to do together, or learning how and when to advocate for the child.throughout their lives. When complicated on my ingenuity in accommodating a task, I often point out that others could probably do the same if it was necessary.
Fourth, fitness and fun can be grouped together in that it is important for a person with CP be given the opportunity to discover activities they enjoy, just like anyone anyone else. Then, similar to function, figure out how it may need to be accommodated to their abilities.
Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, people with disabilities have a future, just like you. Service providers should make this clear right from the start, and keep it in mind throughout their relationship with the child and their family. This could be a future full of friends, education, goals, dreams, and even romance.
I got my first paid writing gig with this very publication in March 2015. I had finished classes and was visiting my grandparents in California. When I got the email, I couldn’t wait to call home to tell dad that someone was going to pay me to write. I knew that he worried about me finding work.
That’s not to say that I wasn’t worried, but it’s different knowing your parents are concerned about your future. With a college diploma and university degree—both in journalism—I didn’t want to disappoint my parents after spending so much time and money in school.
I graduated from Ryerson University with a Bachelor of Journalism on June 7, 2015 and I’ve been looking for work ever since.
That’s not to say that I haven’t been writing. I’ve been writing and published pretty regularly over the past year on the topic of disability. I’m using my talent and love for writing to spread awareness on what I know best. It’s the dream. But I’m not sure I have the makings to be the kind of freelance writer who can juggle enough work to pay the bills.
So I’ve been on the hunt for a day job—full- or part-time. It’s a tough job market for anyone right now, especially recent grads. Gone are the days when a college diploma or university degree guaranteed our parents a job for life.
That’s difficult when people are this educated. It’s even more challenging when I have to consider my physical and learning disabilities. Unlike a lot of people my age, I can’t really work retail or as a waitress or any other job that requires me to stand for long periods and carry heavy objects.
I can’t hide my cerebral palsy. I can only hope that employers aren’t blinded by assumptions about what I can and can’t do, and give me a chance based on my qualifications. So far, no one has come right out and said anything about my physical disability. But I can sometimes tell they’re surprised or uncomfortable when they first meet me.
My learning disability has been more of an issue at job interviews.
In school, a learning disability is challenging but manageable. We have rights to accommodation—for me this often meant copies of notes and extra time on tests. There are policies and people in place to help level the playing field. You just have to know who and what to ask for. However, at no point during my post-secondary education did anyone explain how to advocate for what you need in the workforce.
Thanks to the Accessibility for Ontarians with Disabilities Act, many employers state that they are equal opportunity employers who don’t discriminate against those with disabilities. Some, including the City of Toronto, have explicit policies and procedures for those who need accommodation during the hiring process. I appreciate and wish that all employers had clear policies for accommodation during job assessments.
Recently I’ve sat a few.
In two cases I was told I was just having an interview, but when I arrived, the employer asked me to take a test. The first time, because I hadn’t been given a heads-up, I felt unsure, uncomfortable and annoyed.
Usually, I need a bit of extra time, a computer, spell check and a calculator. Without them, I knew the test wouldn’t be a fair evaluation of my abilities. But I wasn’t sure I should tell the employer about my learning disability. Should I or shouldn’t I? I didn’t want to be taken out of the running. So I didn’t.
The second time I was invited by email to a job interview for an administrative assistant, but when I got there it was an exam. In fact, there was no interview!
I was a bit thrown, but I figured I’d make the best of it. Then I eyed the math section on the test and my “can-do” attitude evaporated.
I’m terrible at math, thanks to my learning disability. My learning disability affects my comprehension, spelling, grammar and math skills. I’ve been able to find ways to manage the first three issues, but I’ve never found a way to wrap my mind around math.
In high school, I only took locally-developed and workplace level math. As a result, there was math on that job test that I’d never seen before. When I got home and told my roommate about the letters and brackets, she told me that was called algebra!
I did ask if I could use a calculator. When they said no, I asked if I’d be able to use a calculator on the job. Oddly, they said that would be fine. Throwing caution to the wind, I came clean and told them about my learning disability. They looked uncomfortable and told me to do my best. Not surprisingly, I didn’t get called back for an interview.
So while my search for a day-job continues, I’ve realized that I have nothing to lose, or be ashamed of, in being upfront about my learning disability. In future, if invited to an interview, I’ll ask if it includes an assessment. If it does, I’ll let people know about my disability before we meet.
From here on out I’ll look for, inquire about and follow any procedures necessary for accommodation during the hiring process.
If an employer has a problem with my disabilities and doesn’t wasn’t to accommodate me, I probably don’t want to work for them anyway.
Originally published by BLOOM.