Progress is progress is progress…

So, it’s the end of 2018, which in some ways has felt like the longest year ever, and yet I remember sitting here writing last year’s post as if it were yesterday. It’s been a busy year, and here are just some of the highlights:

I did a “Begin your Novel” course in January, and I now am 26,000 words into Draft 2. Maybe I’ll finish it before I die.

I had a couple of job interviews, none of which resulted in me getting a job. May I respectfully ask how in the name of chocolate are you supposed to get experience if you need said experience to get a job? Grrr. Grrr.

I threw myself into promoting Independent Living, which I still think is one of the most important philosophies in the whole world, as it recognises disabled people as equal citizens with rights and choices. I blogged about it and also made a video as part of the #IndependentVoices campaign. I also got to work with some amazing ‘young’ people (I don’t believe I fall into this category anymore) and found out that the future of the Movement is in their capable hands. In September we had the launch of Independent Living Movement Ireland, formerly known as Center for Independent Living Ireland.

I applied to be on the UNCRPD supervisory committee, but was not selected. I did get an interview though which was a huge honour.

I gave two lectures to university students – one about the use of technology to students in NUIG via Skype and the other was about parenthood and disability to UCD students (which was a bit impromptu as I stood in at the last minute for a friend who couldn’t make it). Nerve-wracking to say the least.

I wrote an open letter to An Taoiseach Leo Varadkar which was published in the Tullamore Tribune and also read out on Dublin South FM (Ger Scully and Sean O’Kelly, if you’re reading this, many thanks).

I started the Certificate of Disability Studies in NUI Maynooth in October, arrogantly thinking it’d be a piece of cake only to find it’s actually pretty intense with a lot of work and reading involved – oops! It’s so much more than getting the piece of paper for me, though. I want to understand the roots of the oppression of disabled people so that I know how to fight against it.  That said, I need  to stop speaking out in class. I’m coming across as a know-it-all and I will find myself getting beaten up for my lunch money. (If I don’t pass it, I may cry)

I’ve semi-committed to writing another monologue in the New Year with the talented Peter Kearns (Once this course is finished, though – my head is melted)!! Hopefully it materialises.

Oh, and I’m kind of doing some driving lessons! Think the instructor is a little dubious as to whether I can actually do it or not… only time will tell! Fasten your seatbelts!

And finally, I just about managed to keep this blog active (though don’t expect too much before my course finishes in April. Three essays and a group presentation will eat my time). Thanks to all my loyal followers for liking and sharing this pile of drivel. Your cheques are in the post!

Best wishes for 2019! xx

 

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Poem: Proud

                                                                Proud

Nine years of birthdays with no candles on a cake,
Watching seasons come and go,
The days dragged, but the years flew.
And here I sit once again, with no gifts, no smiles, no hugs
and nothing new to say,
Unless you count saying ‘I miss you’
in a completely different way.

But this year, as well as the usual
Memories that make me smile,
My mind wanders to the fact
We haven’t spoken in a while.
and I need some validation,
to hear you say the answers out loud:
What do you think of me,
Do I make you proud?

I know that when I share this poem
People will say ‘of course!
How could you ever think otherwise?’
And they’ll say it ‘til they’re hoarse.
But you know I’m a cynic –
I never believe until I see –
And to be honest, the fact I’ll never know
Has really been bothering me.

Because I know I wasn’t easy:
At times, I had to be pushed,
Sometimes I was lazy,
And others, far too rushed.
I remember you there goading me,
Telling me to do my best,
and as I got older
Begging me to take some rest.

Then I look at my daughter,
Your grandchild, brave and strong,
and I realise, for all my mistakes,
She’s the one thing I didn’t get wrong.
And when she looks into my eyes
and says ‘Mum, are you proud of me?’
I realise that the answer
Will ever only one thing be.

And this brings some consolation
at this desolate time of year,
A hope that you’re looking down on me
With a smile from ear to ear.
Because though I cannot know for sure
Or hear it said out loud,
I hope you know I try my best,
and I hope that you are proud.

Happy birthday xxx