a monthly column from members of
SIRCC
This
month’s column is from
Moyra Hawthorn
Moyra Hawthorn is a deputy manager of a
residential short-breaks service for disabled children, where
she has worked for 7 years. Prior to that she worked in residential
and field social work and a sexual abuse counselling service.
She also currently works part-time as a lecturer for SIRCC based
in the National Office in Glasgow.
If I knew then………..
On
asking to transfer to working as Depute Manager in a residential
short-break service for disabled children and young people after
many years working in child protection, the response from many
quarters was disbelief, at times an ill-disguised suspicion that
I had ‘done something’, and was being moved out of
trouble’s way.
The
concerns appeared to be twofold. First, I was moving from fieldwork
to residential work, and secondly, I was moving from child protection
to working with disabled children and young people. Somewhere
among the disquiet there seemed to be an issue of perceived status.
One colleague who was a bit more tuned in, however, commented
that it was “just the job for a burnt out child protection
worker”.
Seven
years down the road, I have to say that it has been one of the
most challenging posts - emotionally, ethically and physically.
Despite what some of my colleagues implied when I made my move,
I have found the work not only to be very professionally rewarding
at a personal level but I also think that some of the good practice
that we have developed has things to say to workers in other kinds
of residential services for children and young people.
In
my training role at SIRCC I deliver training to groups of staff
all over Scotland in units of all kinds, not just disability services.
I’d like to share some of what I consider to be the good
practice in my unit and other units working with disabled young
people and ask you to reflect on how this could be transferred
to mainstream or able-bodied residential services.
Take
communication. In a mainstream unit, if a young person asks,
“Who is on night shift?” a not uncommon response I
have found among residential workers is that young people want
to know who it is in order to cause a bit of trouble for the night
shift. So what happens at 9.30 pm, when the night shift come in
and day shift leave? It was also an issue in our unit - young
people constantly asking, “Who’s on tonight?”
and not settling at bedtime.
So
we got a notice board set up with pictures of staff and young
people (as it is a respite service) due to come in that day and
next morning. In this way the “Who is on tonight?”
question can be quickly addressed while we get on with the practical
task of managing transition (because that is what shift change
is about), and working towards winding down and trying to make
bedtime a positive experience for all. Bedtime can be a scary
time for some young people, able-bodied and disabled alike, be
it health worries, missing home, bad dreams or painful memories
and all staff need to be sensitive and creative in their approach,
not just the night care staff.
Or
what about Care Planning? In another unit for disabled children,
one young woman’s care plan was beautifully laid out in
a folder and illustrated. This particular plan was very useful.
It contained a clear and detailed account of how to help her to
face the day, from quietly turning on the radio 15 minutes before
getting up time, to exactly how and where she likes her breakfast
cereal.
Thinking
back to my own time when working with non-disabled children and
young people, how often did I make sure that my colleagues and
I discovered young people’s preferred morning routine and
tried to keep it consistent? When the day poses such stress and
challenge to the young people we work with, perhaps we could put
more thought into nurturing and predictability as we share their
life-space throughout the day.
It’s
easier for you. One of the common misconceptions about disability
services is that disabled children and young people are somehow
more compliant than their non-disabled peers. Not so. It’s
a myth and rather patronising. I am sure that staff in our unit
have had as many visits to casualty because of injuries caused
by young people as colleagues in mainstream services.
It
may seem easier to take when you think that there is less notion
of intent, but it still hurts. In reality, most of the young people
I have worked with, regardless of disability, only hurt others
when they too are confused, frightened and don’t know of
a better way to express this. All of us need a better way of picking
up on young people’s non-verbal communication as well as
recording the triggers, diversion and diffusion tactics of the
various de-escalation systems.
What
about some inclusion? If, as I believe, the needs of children
who are disabled are not so different from non-disabled children,
and if so much practice is transferable, I want to ask why we
continue to have separate units for disabled children.
Baroness
Warnock has recently gone on record as questioning some aspects
of the policy of inclusion describing the concept of inclusion
as having “become rather muddled” (Society Guardian
29 June 2005). Without going too far into this debate, it is to
be hoped that a rational approach can be maintained in residential
care. I am sure there is a need for some disability units, as
some young people would undoubtedly find the rough and tumble
of many mainstream residential units too distressing. They require
an environment that is quiet, nurturing and predictable without
being institutionalised.
This
is not the case with all disabled young people, however, and there
are examples of workers and residents in non-disabled services
who have welcomed disabled young people into their units and quickly
developed new skills to prevent them having to leave their home
community. Jeremy Millar highlighted the point in this column
in May 2005 when a physically disabled young man with a learning
difficulty came to stay in the unit he was managing. The outcome
seems to have been positive for all.
There
are often fears expressed by staff that disabled young people
in mainstream units will be bullied. I have seen one or two units
which have integrated children with disabilities, and one unit
manager who supported the staff team through such a venture observed
the opposite. One non-disabled young person who regularly challenged
staff moved into fighting the corner for a young disabled resident
who had complex health needs and very limited verbal communication.
So
where do we go? I am not arguing to get rid of the many fine
specialist resources for disabled children. I am, however, asking
that those working in mainstream units consider opening up to
some of the disabled young people from their area rather than
these young people having to be placed a long way from home. The
learning curve may be steep, but the benefits to staff and young
people can be considerable.
I would also ask that we respect our colleagues throughout social
care. There should be no hierarchy of prestige between fieldwork
or residential, mainstream (we do need to find a better word)
or disability, or indeed between any strands of the care sector.
Finally
I would strongly recommend that when you feel jaded and needing
to be re-enthused, don’t worry about status or what others
will think. Follow your gut instinct and go for a change of direction.
You may be surprised at the result.
