Category Archives: School of Disability Studies

Charter Challenge: Canada Student Load Program

This post was written by Melanie Panitch. She is a former director of the School of Disability Studies and is currently holds the John C. Eaton Chair in Social Innovation and Entrepreneurship.

Photograph of Melanie Panitch standing against brick wall.

Ten years ago, in 2007, while Director of DST, I signed an affidavit in a Charter Challenge (under Section 15 and the Equality clause of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms). See Carol Goar article from the Toronto Star.
The case itself addressed the differential and discriminatory impact of the Canada Student Loan Program, which we know as OSAP (Ontario Student Assistance Program ) on students with disabilities. The argument went as follows: Disabled students take longer to complete degrees, hence incur more debt than non-disabled students to get the same degree. This serves as a deterrent to disabled students from attending post-secondary education worried by a high debt load and how to pay it off afterwards given the uncertainty of finding work, yet, without degrees are in a further disadvantageous position in the job markets.

The wheels of justice are slow, and two weeks ago I was advised by the applicant’s lawyer, I would be cross-examined on my affidavit. In preparing for this cross examination which involved updating my knowledge about loans and grants – I found our many revealing things in support of the discriminatory impact of OSAP on disabled students. Alas I was not given the opportunity to “make the speech” I wanted at the hearing itself, but I can share in this blog some of what I learned.

  1. The first big decision is whether to disclose disability. Registering with the student accommodation and support office and if eligible for OSAP (even for only $1.00) taps into some non repayable grants: Bursary program for up to $10,000 for learning supports (eg computer, accessible technology). Is it high enough for account for the wide range of supports required to succeed? There is also an annual $2000 grant for students identified with a permanent disability.
  2. 40% course load counts as Full Time status. But FT status at the University doesn’t translate to FT status for example Awards or bursaries that assist financially nor does it have the same meaning with ODSP which can be confusing. A 40% load also means less funding. There can be long wait times before the loans are approved, often held up until the required assessments arrive, and given wait time for appointments students may end up having to pay out of pocket for eg, first or last months’ rent, course materials etc.
  3. Managing OSAP can be like having a full time career because there is a need for constant reporting. If you change a course load, add a course, withdraw from a course, do badly in a course, need some time away for eg episodic disability, OSAP monitors closely and adds or subtracts payment. A low grade in a course that indicates a lack of progress or success according to OSAP triggers a requirement for a letter and explanation. If that happens twice, you can’t take any more courses until you repay. Condensed courses, intensive courses are also confusing for OSAP. Lack of flexibility – a disability keystone – is an issue. Having to think about reporting at a time when health or disability related concerns are predominant is tricky to say the least yet missing the deadlines has an impact on loans and interest on loans.
  4. There is an assumption of disability as monolithic – that disability is stable and physical and visible.
  5. Students with disabilities who are not on OSAP are not eligible for work-study programs thus denying opportunities for acquiring work-related skills and experience to boost resumes.
  6. A positive step has been instituted by charging tuition by course rather than by semester. However for student with disabilities taking more years to finish their studies means extra costs in a number of ways: budgeting for accommodation, travel and food over a longer period, a delayed period before entering the work force; some student ancillary fees are pro-rated though others continue to be charged.

Perhaps this can be the start of a conversation on how the impact of the student loan program has affected students and their studies. It is worth noting that the Ontario government intends to roll out a new financial aid program. A recent Globe and Mail article (Nov 29, 2016) reported it was redesigning the current system to “scrap a complicated package of grants and loans and tax credits and replace it with a singled program, the Ontario Student Grant…” Stay alert!

Introducing the new Ethel Louise Armstrong Post-Doctoral Fellow: Tobin LeBlanc Haley.

This post was written by Tobin LeBlanc Haley.

Photograph of woman. She is smiling at the camera

Hi, Everyone! I am Tobin LeBlanc Haley, the new Ethel Louise Armstrong Post-Doctoral Fellow in the School of Disability Studies. I am following in the footsteps of Dr. Kirsty Liddiard and Dr. Eliza Chandler. I have much to live up to!  

I am a Mad-identified, white, cis-gender, normatively physically-abled woman. I came to Toronto from Fredericton, New Brunswick to do my doctorate in Political Science at York University and decided to stay. My interest in disability studies comes from my experiences and the lack attention to mental health care, Mad Studies, and the experiences of consumers/survivors/ex-patient/Mad folk within the field of critical political economy. Most of my research, therefore, is about mental health, specifically the political economy of mental health policy and the implications for people labelled mentally ill.  My doctoral research critically assesses Ontario’s public mental health care system, retelling the history of psychiatric deinstitutionalization from a political economy perspective and interrogating the landscape of mental health care services in the province today during the period of transinstitutionalization.

As a post-doctoral fellow, I am focusing on my home province, which is often neglected in critical scholarship. Here are some facts about psychiatric services in New Brunswick that might interest you.

  • The New Brunswick Lunatic Asylum opened in 1848 in Saint John, New Brunswick (St.-Amand & LeBlanc, 2013). This asylum is often referred to as Canada’s first asylum or as one of the “first permanent ‘lunatic asylums’ in [British North America]” (Moran, n.d, n.p.).  
  • New Brunswick was also home to the Restigouche Hospital which opened approximately 100 years after the asylum in Saint John (Vitalite: Health Network, n.d., n.p.).  
  • Today there is a new Restigouche Hospital, a 140-bed psychiatric hospital in Campbellton, NB (Vitalite: Health Network, n.d., n.p.).  
  • There is also a 50-bed psychiatric facility in Saint John (Horizon, Health Network, n.d., n.p.).  
  • Psychiatric deinstitutionalization was not initiated in the province until the mid-to-late 1980s, well after many other provinces in Canada and during earlier expressions of neoliberalism (Government of New Brunswick. The Action Plan for Mental Health Care in New Brunswick 2011-2018, n.p.).
  • The mid-1980s was a unique time in New Brunswick politics. From 1987-1991, there was no real opposition in the New Brunswick Legislature as the Liberal Party, under the leadership of Frank McKenna, won all the seats (Desserud, 2015).
  • The Liberals remained in power until 1999, with McKenna as Premier until 1997.
  • McKenna implemented an aggressive neoliberal policy program (Desserud, 2015).

For my post-doctoral research project, I will be mapping the history of psychiatric deinstitutionalization in New Brunswick, focusing in particular on whether prevailing economic ideology played a role in the decision to implement deinstitutionalization in the 1980s, the form this process took in the province and the implications for ex-patients.

Processes of deinstitutionalization, while undoubtedly essential for the well-being of anyone who experiences confinement, have long-lasting impacts on where and how ex-patients live and how governments and the public frame the needs and entitlements of these groups. To date, these processes in New Brunswick have not been analyzed. I cannot wait to get into the archives, start talking to people and piece together the place-specific social, political and economic factors that led to psychiatric deinstitutionalization in the province, the immediate implications for ex-patients and the on-going implications for the c/s/x/m community today. I also hope to do some comparative work around de/transinstitutionalization across Deaf/dis/Abled/Mad communities.

So far I have only had the chance to meet a few students, but I am deeply impressed with the creativity and engagement in the DST community. I love all things related to intersectional feminism, archival research, radical social change and, of course, Dis and Mad Studies. Please feel free to stop by my office anytime or email me at tobinh@ryerson.ca.  

References

Desserud, Don. (2015). The Political Economy of New Brunswick. In B. Evans and C. Smith (Eds.) Transforming provincial politics: The political economy of Canada’s provinces and territories in the neoliberal era (pp. 110-134). University of Toronto Press.

Government of New Brunswick. The Action Plan for Mental Health Care in New Brunswick 2011-2018. Available at: https://www.gnb.ca/0055/pdf/2011/7379%20english.pdf

Horizon, Health Network. Centracare. Available at: http://en.horizonnb.ca/facilities-and-services/facilities/centracare.aspx

Moran, James. History of Madness and Mental Illness. Available at: http://historyofmadness.ca/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=80.

St.-Amand, N. and LeBlanc, E. (2013). Women in 19th Century Asylums. In B. LeFrancois, R. Menzies, & G. Reaume (Eds.), Mad matters: A critical reader in Canadian mad studies (pp. 38-48). Toronto: Canadian Scholars Inc. Press.

Vitalite: Health Network. Restigouche Hospital Centre. Available at: http://www.vitalitenb.ca/en/points-service/restigouche-hospital-centre

Walking with Strangers: Exploring madness through mapping and ethnography

This post was written by recent graduate, Carolyn Lee-Jones.

photograph of footprints in snow

I always find the hardest part of any task is the beginning.  Taking that awkward first step or action needed to propel me forward always brings with it a terrifying sense of anxiety.  Today, I am here to talk about presenting my DST 99 project, Walking with Strangers: Mapping experiences of madness and space, to diverse audiences.  But at the moment all I see is a sea of unfamiliar faces, strangers really.  I close my eyes, take a deep breath and start walking…

Walking with Strangers emerged to make sense of a troubling situation involving someone I had been in a care relationship with experienced escalating mental health crises.  The degree of stigma, lack of accommodations and responses to her distress was appalling.  Witnessing these events led me to reflect on my own experiences of distress and struggles with a Mad identity.  Guided by a Mad Studies framework, Walking with Stranger is an ethnographic study exploring how Mad People experience and negotiate social and geographical spaces in everyday life.  Or more simply, discovering how Mad People are living in space.  My research involved working with four Mad identified participants.  Each produced 24-hour narrative diaries focussing on ‘thick description’ and participated in semi formal interviews.  Most importantly to my research, I also went on go ‘go alongs’ where I actually walked with participants as they went about their regular routines and locales to get a sense of how they interact with their environments.  

When I initially developed Walking with Strangers I didn’t give much thought about how I might have to alter my project to reach audiences from different backgrounds.  Most recently I was challenged with taking the presentation I prepared for the Canadian Disability Studies Association (CDSA 2016) conference and turning it into something I could co-present with Dr. Kathryn Church to a Media Production class at Ryerson.  Being immersed in Disability Studies, I had forgotten how foreign the concepts had been when I was first introduced to them.  Presenting to the Media Production students, mental health as illness and the more common medical, recovery based models- these were familiar to the students.  Mad as an identity and pride, never mind an entire field of study was far more difficult to grasp.  Nevertheless, I did my best to present the bare bones of my project and its relationship to Mad Studies.  By focusing on how I enacted ethnography in my project and what ethnographic research looked like on the ground level, I wanted to emphasise how ethnography is about living engagement.  It’s awkwardness as well as connection and everything else in between still counts as data.  

Based on the Q & A session which followed my presentation, the response to my project seemed mostly positive.  The students had interesting questions about Disability and Mad Studies, finding participants and challenges working with mad participants.  Some of the students shared discomfort with this kind of research which seemed only natural.  I had similar reservations at first but I found that doing ethnography included my learning to face my discomfort and accept that ethnography is not necessarily a linear approach to research.  Through ethnographic research I found that having to adjust, adjust, adjust was just all part of the process.  In doing so, ethnography showed me alternative way of knowing and seeing the world by immersing myself in my participant’s experiences of their everyday spatiality’s.  By presenting to the students I could show them that mad people can be researchers as well as participants.  Maybe, even changing some of the student’s previous notions about madness.  As a Mad researcher, I feel I was in a unique position both personally and academically to work from the inside out to explore complicated questions about everyday spatiality’s, madness and geography.  My work was about people living in space and presenting to the Media Production students gave me another opportunity to show the other, every day side of madness.  Reflecting, learning to present across diverse groups, I better understand the importance of being able to make my work accessible and share it with wider audiences to change how people think about mad people and experiences.  Thanks for walking with me!

 

Introducing Bodies in Translation: Activist Art, Technology, and Access to Life

This post was written by Associate Professor, Eliza Chandler.

photograph of Eliza Chandler standing in front of a painting of a woman with long hair

Beginning in January, Dr. Carla Rice and myself will be co-directing a seven year SSHRC-funded Partnership Grant called Bodies in Translation: Activist Art, Technology, and Access to Life. Activist art, as it is defined in this grant, is Deaf, disability, and Mad art, fat art, art made by aging/aged people, and Indigenous art produced by Ontario-based artists. This grant will animate the assertion that when non-normative artists have access to creating and exhibiting art, and when we all have access to publically engaging with it, that differently embodied and marginalized people achieve greater possibilities for living a fulfilled life and expanded recognition of having liveable futures. And in a culture in which D/deaf people, disabled people, Mad people, fat/differently-sized people, aging/aged people, and Indigenous people are recognized as living unliveable and undesirable lives, we recognize that the project of claiming vitality through activist art is nothing short of urgent.

Bodies in Translation brings together 40 university and community-based partners from across Canada and the UK. Tangled Art + Disability, the main community partner, will be the site of much of the grant’s artistic activity. We aim to help cultivate activist art and mobilize its social justice capacity through five research streams which will: 1) Create an open-access, accessible, and ever-expanding archive of activist art in Ontario; 2) Innovate new ways for technology to help create, exhibit, archive and experience art; 3) Facilitate the creation and exhibition of activist art; 4) Consider how activist art contributes to social justice by promoting new understandings of embodied differences, both through art and as artists; and 5) Develop free and accessible secondary and post-secondary curriculum around activist art which can be used within equity and social justice pedagogy.

The main research outputs of this grant will be an activist art archive co-hosted by the Canadian Journal of Disability Studies; the development of a standard and policy for making the arts accessible; activist art programming, performances, and exhibitions; symposiums, conferences, workshops, and publications about activist art; and a web-based knowledge platform wherein educators can freely access curriculum and curriculum development tools for teaching about social justice through activist art.

What this means for the Ryerson community:

As one of the two main university partners on this grant, the School of Disability Studies will be abuzz with research and artistic activity for the next seven years. The School will host many research symposiums— the first of which, the Aging/Disability Symposium will be held February 16th and 17th, 2017 and stay tuned for the second Cripping the Arts symposium happening in 2018. The School will also be the site of the grants Access the Arts Lab, a lab complete with 3D printers, iPads, video editing software, and new technology as it gets developed over the life of the grant that will help make art-making more accessible. This lab is free to use for students, artists, and community members, so feel free to pop by when the lab is set up next winter. The grant will also create a number of research assistantship positions for students, artists, and community members. If you are interested in one of these positions, please get in touch with me.

If you want to hear more about this grant or would like to get involved, please get in touch with me at any time: eliza.chandler@ryerson.ca, 416-979-5000 ext. 6200, office #523.

Looking forward to an exciting next seven years cultivating activist art at the School of Disability Studies!

Eliza

My Graduate School Experience

This post is written by Kevin Jackson. Graduate of the School of Disability Studies at Ryerson and now graduate of the Masters of Arts in Critical Disability Studies program at York University.

photograph of man in black ceremonial gown with red hood and black hat with red tassel.
Kevin at his graduate ceremony in 2016.

As a recent graduate of York University’s Critical Disability Studies (CDiS) master’s degree program (part-time), I wondered about how I should sum up all of my experiences in such a short space. Well, the first point that needs to be expressed is that I am a DST graduate (2014), and this is specifically written for Ryerson DST future/present graduates. As this piece will demonstrate, being a Ryerson DST grad gives CDiS MA students a tremendous advantage in the CDiS MA program.  

My story would have to begin on orientation day. I was terrified. We all met in our dedicated Vari Hall classroom where I met my fellow MA/PhD students. We introduced ourselves and discussed the program. Thankfully Dr. nancy halifax was familiar with me from an edited collection to which we were both contributing. She was friendly  and openly acknowledged my work. I felt this was a good way to start my MA! However, as I was delighted to discover, this was just the beginning of many outstanding experiences I would have in CDiS program.

The next thing to tackle were the actual classes. I recall the first few weeks of the mandatory disability studies overview class/tutorial with Dr. Geoffrey Reaume. I was overjoyed to learn that I was not only familiar with the themes, but that I had already read many of the assigned readings back in my DST undergrad! Although I did all of the readings again, I made sure to make notes that would allow me to make a few comments per class, which as anyone who knows can testify is a challenge for me. But with such small classes, great professors, and already being familiar with the themes/readings, I found class participation to be very manageable. In fact, I found my overall grades actually rose higher than my undergrad! Let me repeat that for DST students who might be worried about their capability to do the MA coursework: Yes, I actually received better grades in my MA than my BA. This was due to several factors—including the fact that I was academically supported (great profs), was dedicated to my academics (did all of the readings, research, and assignments), and that I was free to do my coursework. This last point cannot be overstated. One needs to consider their personal situation to determine if their job, social life, and even family can manage the amount of work that an MA requires. Certainly, doing the MA part-time could reduce the workload, but there are disadvantages to this as well. In all cases, there is a generous amount of work that you will be required to do to continue in the program (no less than a B for any course).

While CDiS is very good with accommodating disability and Madness, taking time off from the program is problematic. York University (but not CDiS itself) has a policy know as “continuous registration,” where once a student is enrolled, they cannot take time off from the program without financial penalty. That is to say, even if you have an accommodation (or even a MD’s letter) and you require time off, you will be charged for taking time off from the program. This red tape and bureaucracy were the most negative part of my grad school experience, but professors mitigate this issue by giving assignment extensions whenever possible.  

I have tried to make this piece as helpful as possible to potential CDiS MA applicants; however, my experience will not be everyone’s experience. Being in the CDiS grad school has taught me that hard work, flexibility, and self reliance is so important, and the rewards far outweigh the negatives. I have met some of the most wonderful Mad and disabled people while doing my MA with CDiS, and these close relationships have stayed with me. My graduating class ceremony on October 19th, 2016 was a milestone in my academic, activist, and personal life. This experience has changed me, and I feel my own research has somehow changed Disability Studies and Mad Studies, hopefully for the better. You too can complete an MA in CDiS. As a Ryerson DST graduate, you already have a head start in the program (Kathryn Church has well prepared us for this). I myself can attest to the fear of beginning graduate school (MA), but if I can do it, you can do it—and make your own mark upon the world you are helping to create.

 

Is that any of your business?

This post was written by current student  Robin Kellner.

photo of Lindsay and Robin.
Robin Kellner winner of the Inaugural Helen Henderson Writing for Disability Activism Award with Lindsay Campbell.

Almost daily, my clients and I are stopped by curious passer-by’s who have numerous questions and who feel entitled to our personal information.

I understand that we stand out. It’s not common to see two people side by side, one telling the other about every visual and auditory stimulus in the mall, doctor’s office, or restaurant. But that is how some people who are deafblind live their lives, with someone travelling beside them providing access to everything there is to see and hear in the environment around them.

Most commonly, I am asked if my client is my parent.

A few weeks ago, my client was getting her banking done when the teller stops to ask “Are you her daughter?” When I passed the question along to my client, she snapped “No! She’s an intervenor.”

We both sighed as we left the bank, “It’s annoying. I’m not old enough to be your mother.” It’s true, not even by a long shot.

Curiosity is human nature, but I often wonder, if disability were to be removed from the situation, would people still feel inclined to ask such questions? I would never pull up a chair at a café and ask the two people sitting at the table how they know each other. By Torontonian standards, that would be socially inappropriate – not to mention that I do not give a crap how they know each other.  

It may not sound horrible to be approached with questions, but could you imagine if it happened almost every day?  Such inquiries rarely turn into thoughtful conversations promote awareness of deafblindness – they are flat out insulting.

The interview does not often end with me being asked if I am my client’s offspring. Again and again, we hear “Can she see?” or “What’s wrong with him?”

These quandaries are also always directed at me implying that the person views my client as invisible and unable to answer a question.  

I am not advocating for a society of people who never talk to one another and ask each other questions, but I encourage people to think about their questions before asking them. Speak to the person you are curious about directly, regardless of their mode of communication, language, vision, or hearing, and ask yourself: Why am I asking the question? Without the presence of visible disability, would I still feel the need to ask the question at all?

On a recent shift at the dentist, the receptionist asked if my client was my father. When I relayed the answer along to my client – who took the time to explain the role of an intervenor – the response was: “so like your daughter.”

We were speechless – but offered polite chuckles as we walked out using sighted guide. Having never been in that situation with this particular person, once we got outside, I asked him how he felt about the question. His response gave me a new perspective to the scenario – he said that he should have asked the receptionist if the dentist was her mother.

It occurred to me that such questions are not only disrespectful to the person with the embodied difference; they are also patronizing to the intervenor and diminish our roles as professionals.

The receptionist at the dental office is a skilled professional who plays an essential role in managing the office and ensuring the quality of the patients’ experience.  Intervenors are trained professionals who provide visual and auditory information to people who are deafblind, and are trained in various modes of communication, orientation and mobility, and much more. Sure, it could happen that a dentist could hire their child to work in their office, and a family member could be put in the position of intervenor if there is a need. But would you ever feel the need to ask the receptionist at a dental office how they are related to their employer? I would guess the answer to that question is likely no.

Why then, do people feel it is their right to ask me how I am related to the person beside me who is holding my arm, a white cane, or the harness of a guide dog? Is it because they are perceived to have a disability?

In reality, I could be their daughter, cousin, or I could even be their lover – but is it really any of your business?

 

Advocacy or how it started …

This post was written by student Sharon Clegg-Lintner and Micki McIntrye.

“Well, Micki. What do you think??”

“That would be all right with me I guess. If it means a couple of extra dollars a month for me to spend, that would be okay.”

And that’s how it all started; the second half of taking a stand and pursuing a closure for all the lost opportunities in life and one that makes her feel more credible and dignified as a human being. Not that she ever discussed those twenty years of pain, abuse and hardship while living in four of Ontario’s Provincial Institutions.

Micki, whose birth name is Marlene McIntyre, had to re-live all those painful memories three years ago as we spent nearly seven hours with me and her Adult Protective Service Worker completing the most intimate details of her years of mental, physical and emotional abuse. She spoke of other horrors that had occurred to people she knew and lived with, surprised at herself for even remembering some of their names.

“You didn’t speak of those things when staff were around and you couldn’t help even if you wanted to. I did a couple of times and got smacked and locked in a room for it. Some people died, Sharon, and we didn’t know where their bodies went.”

I’m sitting here with Micki right now so she can be part of this submission, because that’s how it’s always been between her and I since we met. We share. I was redneck nineteen year old who got a summer job at the Ontario Hospital for Women in Cobourg. (Later known as D’Arcy Place) That was 1972. And we’ve been friends ever since. There are too many stories to elaborate on since then, but the most important aspect of our relationship was how hers, and others, humbled me into choosing my career path. She became family and the both of us struggled through many obstacles so she could obtain her freedom. I took on Community and Social Services in the late 70’s to get her released into the community of Barrie and she has lived a life to establish herself as a citizen there, not without consequences by any means, but as someone who always had a heart of gold, of which she gave while others took. But I was always there as her “protector”, providing choices and alternatives.

She eventually met and decided to live with her partner, Bob, and that was nearly over thirty-five years ago. She is quite emphatic to this day that she won’t share Bob with me! “You’re my sister, and he can’t come to our house to stay when I come home!” Even when Micki got really ill two years ago and I learned that her one leg had gotten so badly infected, she was hospitalized, she told me she didn’t want to worry me and that she had tried her best to do things on her own. That cost her the amputation of her leg, a decision she made by herself after we had tried for four months to save it. South Lake Regional Hospital in Newmarket sure got to know the both of us during those months, after they originally wanted to discharge her back to her apartment that was consumed with bed bugs! It wasn’t long before the medical professionals discovered that we were a team not to be pushed around because of policies!! We’ve come even a longer way since then. I was able to secure a place at a retirement home the next year for both of them and took on officials in Barrie. It hasn’t been a smooth road since then making sure she was getting the correct medical attention and prevention for her other leg. We learned of the first collective Class Action Lawsuit against the Province of Ontario and I made sure her name was on the list. The law firm of Koskie Minsky in Toronto were absolutely wonderful! Micki and I had to originally travel to Toronto for depositions, affidavits, motions and intimidating consultations with Ministry people. But Micki charmed them all! Her wit, humour and sincerity won them over. Plus, she absolutely looked forward to staying in the big hotels!

photograh of woman with santa hat on
Micki enjoying her stay at a hotel.

Micki received a substantial financial gift as a result of the first lawsuit. We were able to obtain a brand new electric wheelchair for her and as of last October, she and Bob have relocated to a geared-to-rent disabled unit apartment in Barrie. They had the most wonderful Christmas last year, with a proper Christmas tree, decorations and gifts. Although there have been some serious medical concerns with the both of them this last year, they are much happier.

Our final chapter enlisted by Koskie Minsky this past year, was Micki taking on the responsibility of being named as applicant for a second class action lawsuit, again against the Province of Ontario, for any and all survivors of the smaller provincial institutions before they were closed. We spearheaded this motion because Micki wanted to ensure that EVERYONE who was still alive and had gone through horrific experiences were also entitled to a better life. The day she had to appear in court this past April, she manoeuvred her wheelchair up next to the lawyer’s benches and got to speak to the Judge and let him know how grateful she felt and other survivors in the courtroom clapped when she did so.

photo of Micki and Sharon with a horse
Micki and Sharon at Sharon’s farm.

Micki’s life long wishes were to see Alice Cooper, which we have done twice now at Casino Rama and she wants to go to Santa’s Village this summer, which we are planning. Micki comes home here to my farm more often now, and it is our hope that with continuing medical assistance, we can get her one leg stable enough to warrant a prosthesis, because that’s Micki — she never wants to give up on any possibilities in her life and don’t anyone tell her she can’t do something!

Photograph of woman using a wheelchair in a crowd
Micki at an Alice Cooper concert.

To read more about the settlement read Survivors of 12 Huronia-style institutions will split $36M class-action settlement in the Toronto Star.

What Can I Do? The Makings of an Accessible Playground!

This post was written by  student Cheryl Saccardo.

Playgrounds provide opportunities for children to play in a diverse, safe environment along with allowing them to grow to create and pretend while interacting with their peers. Playgrounds are meant to provide children an exciting, diverse environment to play. Authors; Yantz, Young, & Mckeever (2010) maintain “by providing children the opportunity to play together is an important step in redressing discrimination,  marginalization, and exclusion, inclusive play spaces help to promote and create an inclusive community” (pg.76). The purpose and goal of my community project are to create an accessible play environment that meets the needs both of the children disabilities who attend the school and everyone within the community. My paper focused my narrative, of my journeys as I worked on two projects one being changing the existing playground in making it accessible to everyone within the community. The second project is participating and working with school committees and stakeholders in designing and creating an accessible outdoor play space in the school’s courtyard. My motivation:  As an Educational Assistant I am required to supervise the students I support outside during their morning, lunch and afternoon recesses.  However during this time, I often see the students isolated playing on their devices because there is no equipment or other students to play and or socialize with. The students sit in their wheelchairs alone watching the other children play soccer on a field that is not accessible or safe for them to maneuver their wheelchairs, children building castles, holes, imagining that they are going to China or in the sandbox that has borders that allow able-bodied children in and children in wheelchairs out. I see children playing on the playscapes that has slides and or fireman poles, but no ramps for children in wheelchairs and opportunities to explore, imagine or play.

Children with disabilities are often marginalized and excluded on school playgrounds often because their abilities are unappreciated. I believe one of the effective ways to encourage such a change is to provide opportunities for them to self-advocate and be included in the decision-making process by providing the tools and resources necessary to express their wants and needs.

I held a learning circle including the children I support to provide them a means to express what they felt about the school playground. The students expressed they felt isolated, frustrated, mad, unvalued and sad. Expressed the basketball nets were too high and were afraid of getting hit in the head by a ball. They wanted to play in the sand with their peers, however because the sandbox is sunken in the ground,  has high borders, and not entirely accessible, the students with physical disabilities are unable to gain access to the sandbox.  In other instances, students were unsure of what to do when they wanted to play soccer because they felt they couldn’t ask their friends to stay with them to play. They didn’t want to prevent their peers from doing things they were able to do such as playing in the sandbox, practicing gymnastics on the grass or playing on the playscape. It also assisted in deciding what equipment the children felt was missing from the playground. The students shared that the most accessible equipment such as an elevated sand table and adjustable basketball net to accommodate their wheelchairs would be beneficial. The students expressed they felt comfortable playing with other students in the Intensive Support Program because they didn’t feel they would be judged. They didn’t want to leave other students alone without anyone to play with and because sometimes other students didn’t understand them or have the patience to wait for them to respond whether it is throwing the ball or responding to a question.  I have also found that because of differing maturity levels from that of their grade peers they do not have much in common. For instance; one student is 14 years old, and her favourite television shows are not age or maturity appropriate for younger children. The other children watch television shows that contain content that some other students do not understand or watch.  Having an opportunity to engage in a circle dialogue with the students, allowed me to hear the accounts first- the hand of the students’ experiences firsthand.  It also allowed the students to express their feelings and suggestions regarding what they want and need to be changed, so they feel more comfortable and inclusive with their peers. How those changes and express can be included in the design stage of the Courtyard Revitalization Project is vital and allowed the student an opportunity for them to feel comfortable in a situation and which other students may have felt the same way.      

A photograph of a wooden barrier preventing access to a sandbox
This image illustrates the school sandbox. The high wooden borders prevent access to children who use a wheelchair or walker.

                                                   

A photograph of children playing on a raised sandbox
The elevated sandbox is similar to the elevated sand and water table the school parent committee purchased for the school playground.

I did not include children in the photographs that illustrate barriers children with disabilities face on the playgrounds. I wanted the main focus to be on the barrier not on the child.

I was able to gain funding from the parent council and the principal to purchase an elevated sand table, as well as an adjustable basketball goal. It has been very exciting for both the students and I; the elevated sand table is in the process of being installed. The children love playing with the adjustable basketball goal. The students with the class I support are beginning to enjoy the school playground and are beginning to feel included within the of the school community.  Currently, I am still an active member of the in the school Playground Revitalization Project steering committee. The revitalization project is going well.  We have created our designs and are in the process of working with the board in finalizing our design and develop strategies on how to gain extra funding.  Although this began as my DST 99 final project, I am in the long haul!!

Annual Student Awards Ceremony

photograph of flowers
Flowers reminding us of those in the disability community who are no longer with us.

 

Photograph of Melanie Panitch, Megan Elms and David Pollock.
Inaugural David and Sylvia Pollock Entrance Award winner Megan Elms.
Photograph of Melanie Panitch, Maverick Smith and David Pollock.
Inaugural David and Sylvia Pollock Entrance Award winner Maverick Smith.
photograph of Melanie Panitch and her father David Pollock.
Melanie Panitch and her father David Pollock.
Photograph of Paris Master-McRae and Christina Devlin.
Harry E. Foster Award winner Christina Devlin.
Photograph of Paris Master-McRae and Chellephe Gayle
Harry E. Foster Memorial Award winner Chellephe Gayle.
Photograph of Paris Master-McRae and Rukiyah Ghani.
Harry E. Foster Memorial Award winner Rukiyah Ghani.

 

Photograph of Paris Master-McRae with Melissa Hummel.
Harry E. Foster Memorial Award winner Melissa Hummel.
Photograph of Paris Master-McRae and Amanda Lin
Harry E. Foster Memorial Award winner Amanda Lin.
photograph of Kathryn Church and Amanda Chalmers.
M.K. Chant Disability Studies Award winner Amanda Chalmers.
Photograph of Kathryn Church and Thalia Bullen-Rutherford.
M.K. Chant Disability Studies Award winner Thalia Bullen-Rutherford.
Photograph of Mary-Teresa Korkush and Mr. Foulkes
Beth Foulkes Award in Community Living winner Mary-Teresa Korkush.
Photograph of Peter Tench.
Karen Tench Memorial Award in Community Inclusion and Advocacy presented by Peter Tench.
photograph of Peter Tench and Adriano Aguiar.
Karen Tench Memorial Award in Community Inclusion and Advocacy winner Adriano Aguiar.
Photograph of Winnie Ng.
The Jake Edelson Award in Community Organizing presented by Winnie Ng.
Photograph of Winnie and Heather-Ann.
Jake Edelson Award in Community Organizing winner Heather-Ann Mesquita.
Photo of Maggie and Ron in the audience.
Maggie Redmonds and Ron Goldsmith present the Bill and Lucille Owens Award in Public Policy.
photo of Maggie, Brandon and Ron.
Bill and Lucille Owens Award in Public Policy winner Brandon Arkinson.
Photograph of Xavieer, Netisha and Melodie.
Malcolm Jeffreys Memorial Award Leadership Award winner Netisha Edwards-Ragguette.
Photograph of Danielle Landry, Adrienne Margennis and Joyce Brown.
The David Reville/Working for Change Course Bursary for ‘Mad People’s History’ winner Adrienne Margennis.
photo of Lindsay and Robin.
Robin Kellner winner of the Inaugural Helen Henderson Writing for Disability Activism Award with Lindsay Campbell.
photograph of Robert and Heather Hardie with Heather Norris and Cole Bonathan.
Heather Norris winner of the Emma Hardie International Disability Award pictured with Emma’s parents, Robert and Heather and Emma’s son Cole Bonathan.
photo of Kathryn Chruch, Jessica Doberstein, Kelly Smith, Carolyn Lee-Jones, Nicole Meehan and Melanie Panitch.
Nancy C. Sprott Disability Studies Award winner, Jessica Doberstein, Kelly Smith, Carolyn Lee-Jones and Nicole Meehan. Not pictured is Amy Beckett-Woodrow.
Photograph of Kelly Smith
Kelly Smith delivering her student perceptive at the annual student award ceremony.
photograph of students
The 2016 Annual Student Award Winner.