"Always look on the bright side of life..."

Dear Shane --

I've just come home from your funeral -- I have to say, you would have loved it.  There were so many people there that the entire side courtyard beside where there service was was filled, and people were sitting in the aisle and standing in the vestibule.  Your mom kept busy consoling everyone else and taking care of KD.  She managed to find a wonderful celebrant who made people laugh and smile.  Jordy and the other readers read pieces that reflected your humour and spirit.  The eulogies from Laura and your Auntie Joanne were full of beautiful 'Shane-isms' that reminded everyone about what is important in life, about what knowing you helped us know, and people laughed out loud through their tears and applauded the speakers.  And even special little treats to make a conductor happy -- Eddie walking all of the way to the front to place his flower, CW and KD driving their chairs independently again.  And, thank you very much Shane and James Valentine,  I'm still singing "always look on the bright side side of life" -- and if I'm singing it so should everyone else, right?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WlBiLNN1NhQ

Beautiful music, beautiful music.


At the end of the service the celebrant spoke about how one of the things that grieving people do is give themselves a hard time about would haves and could haves and should haves -- and it is so true.  Earlier this week I found myself wondering if there was something I could have taught you through CE that would have made a difference, that could have helped you.  I spoke to KD, who was also giving herself a hard time, and consoled myself while I consoled her.  It isn't about what would have and could have and should have been done, there is no fault or blame; it was your time.  We are saddened; so very very saddened; but as you would have wished, today our hearts were filled with love and joy as were were reminded how precious life is.

The celebrant urged us to remember and to share -- and I found myself remembering our time together in CE -- you and your mom and Jordy and Greg and Rebecca and me rolling around on the floor, you directing traffic and trying to stay out of the way to avoid being crushed as we all tried to figure how to get Greg back on his back; you and Greg laughing at me in my twisted yoga positions trying to facilitate between you both at the same time, the sessions when it was just you and your mom and me, with you teaching us both how to facilitate certain movements and stretches, and telling us to push more and reassuring us that we weren't hurting you.  I found myself remembering the mature, adult conversation we had when you told me that you knew that you could still benefit from CE, but after a long day of bus rides and CAS, and with your cough being what it was, you weren't looking forward  to CE in the evenings, and that you found Bowen more beneficial because you could relax with it.  I agreed that taking a break was probably the best thing.  And then we had a hilarious 'discussion' about who would be the one to have to tell your Mom.

And I thought about Fighting Chance http://www.fightingchance.net.au/home.html -- a charity set up in memorandum of your dad and now your legacy -- 'because everyone deserves a fighting chance'.  I hope you know how many people have already been helped and how many more people will be helped because your mom and loves you so much that she is willing to fight to make the world a better place for other people and their families; her love for you extends far beyond you and allows her to empathize, reach out to, and love so many others.  I am so grateful that through you and CE I have found myself included in this embrace -- she is an amazing woman Shane.  Please keep an eye on her from wherever you are.  Some people wonder how they can possibly make a difference, get overwhelmed, and end up doing nothing -- but not your mom Shane -- she loves you so much that she moves mountains while everyone else stands around wondering if there is a pebble small enough that they can throw.  And with Jordy and Laura fighting at her side the vastness of your legacy is still to be seen.  Today at your funeral, in true civil riot spirit, we sang "we shall overcome" -- and as we were reminded to support Fighting Chance and Kairos I, like so many others in the room, felt my commitment to you, to your family, and to your legacy Fighting Chance.

 "Take up our quarrel with the foe:     

To you from failing hands we throw 

The torch; be it yours to hold high."

-- John McCrae

I'm heading home to visit my family in Canada tomorrow -- I was so sad to say goodbye to you today Shane, but I am so glad that I could be at your funeral.  You have reminded me to hug everyone just a little bit longer and to enjoy every precious moment.  So Shane, since you loved music so much, here is some Canadian music for you.  This Neil Young song always makes me homesick but in a nice way --  ..."dream, comfort, memory to spare, and in my mind I still need a place to go, all of my changes were there...".  For me, it is about the sweet pain of memory, and about coming home, and about change, and about embracing the helplessness we all feel about life sometimes; when K.D. Lang first sang it, it was because Neil Young was sick and she was filling in for him.  In her introduction she talks about him as someone who has maintained his integrity and his uncompromising vision and purity -- in this spirit I dedicate it to you and to your Mom.  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5KRVtjgMkM

Unsweetable

This was meant as a response to Andrew Sutton's post on Conductive World -- but I got excited, wrote too much for it to be an acceptable response length, and have decided to repost it here.  Please see Andrew's original posting and hopefully you will find further discussion here: 


Conductive Education: who is it for? -- Andrew Sutton

In terms of suitability -- or sweetability -- I agree completely.  For me it has never been about whether a person is or is not 'suitable' for CE, but I feel that it is appropriate to ask whether for a particular person and in that particular instance CE is appropriate for them.

For example

1.  There are some people that are looking for 'a magic pill' -- and whether or not the conductor feels that the person can learn and benefit that person might choose to continue to pursue their miracle elsewhere when they realize that CE involves hard work over time.  

2. Just because CE has been right for a person at sometime in their life doesn't mean that it is always right for them -- people have to choose depending on where they are at whether they want to work this way.   In fact Shane, Sue O'Reilly's son said that he preferred Bowen therapy for now because he wanted something gently and relaxing not something that required him to work hard when he was unwell and tired.   He will be welcome back if he chooses later, and maybe I'll learn something from Shane about Bowen 

3.  Sometimes, for whatever reason the relationship between the conductor and the participant is not conducive to a productive, positive environment for either person.  If there are 10 conductors and lots of options in the schedule there might be an other solution, but when you are running a small program by yourself accommodating a person might not be viable.  I have had people refuse to work with me or with other conductors; I have had a person that none of the conductors would work with because he was so vulgar and inappropriate.   

There are other factors too -- everyone might be suitable for CE, or as I prefer to say CE might be appropriate for everyone, but I think that conductors should have the choice to say 'this is where my comfort zone is, this is where my experience is, this is where I know I can be successful'.  CE might be suitable for everyone, but conductors tend to be specialized and that shouldn't be a judgement on their practice.  That said, oddly enough, I have had a lot of criticism from conductors senior to myself because I have 'specialized' in the 'weird and wonderful' or the 'too hard basket'

I'm quite proud to say that in my time as a conductor I have only twice said 'no' to trying with somebody.  One was a man in his mid nineties with advanced Parkinson's and rapidly progressing Alzheimer's who was not only blind and deaf, but also had never been English speaking.  Had I met this family now, with my practice being private and more outreach based I would have offered to work with him and the family in their home but I did not think my classroom environment was appropriate.  The other was a young man with late stage leukodystrophy malacia.  I remember him and his mother clearly as if I had met them yesterday  although it was 10 years ago.  I couldn't make contact with him, couldn't get a response, had no idea where to start, was terrified of the mother's desperation and conviction that he was still there, and as you said Andrew, I had no idea where to start or what to do.  In my inexperience I told that mother that CE wasn't suitable for him and I instantly regretted it and still feel guilty about not trying, and again now, with the option to work with him in his home I would like to think that I would try.

In terms of 'assessment' - I don't assess, I consult.  I meet with a person, let them get a feel for me, try to see where they are at, see what they are looking for, work out where to start, what I will need, establish the relationship and build trust, collect relevant information.  I never charge for consultations -- in private practice people are spending a lot of money for my time and need the consultation as much as I do to decide if CE is 'suitable', if I am the right person for them at that moment.

As you know, I also work as a personal trainer, and I have the opportunity to 'conduct' able-bodied and elderly people.  Sometimes this occurs subtly -- which to be honest is nice; I don't have to try to explain what CE is, I just approach a person or their session differently.  I also have able bodied gym clients who have taken an interest in CE, 'my other life', who I discuss pedagogy and CE with, who immediately pick up that I 'CE' them, and like it.  It is actually incredibly interesting and amazing to see what it is like to teach movement and problem solving to people not restricted by motor disorder -- it helps me understand things better regarding motor disorder.  People give me words like -- 'I just don't feel confident' and I better understand the role of thinking and perceiving in skilled movement

More about Conducting "Enable Me"

I know that my role in the "Enable Me" project is personal trainer / exercise lady.  However, I have been switching hats a lot lately -- mid session and discreetly taking my personal trainer hat off and slipping my conductor hat back on, barely stopping to notice how comfortable it feels, but noticing the change in my tone, the way sets and repetitions of exercises give way to rhythmically intended tasks, the subtle stylistic changes in the way the session is delivered.  The people I work with in this project are in their eighties -- if they notice the hat change they don't react though they certainly respond.  Whether what I am doing would look and sound normal in a CE group but seem a bit odd in the gym is irrelevant to these people for whom the concept of a personal trainer is as foreign as that of a conductor.

Don't get me wrong -- I am passionate about how valuable exercise is for people of all ages and abilities and firmly believe that exercise helps people stay strong and healthy and can actually intervene with what is often presumed to be an inevitable part of the ageing process.  But there are times when what is needed and what is more appropriate in a given moment or over a few weeks of working with a particular person is Conductive Education -- the learning, the structured approach to problem solving, the way of breaking complex movements into manageable segments, practicing them, and stringing them back together as fluent, purposeful movement, the use of speech and rhythm and intention and motivation as facilitation -- in other words the unique tricks specific to the conductive trade.

Mr LH's file says that he has had a frozen shoulder, has had a few falls, and has mild cognitive decline.  In reality Mr LH's movement and cognition is characteristic of something in the Parkinson's plus family of conditions -- I of course wouldn't try to guess or diagnose, that is certainly not my role, but I am pleased that the case manager and physiotherapist accept my experience based hunch that there is something neuro-motoric going on and have written a letter that Mr LH can take to his GP recommending further investigation.  I am even more pleased that Mr LH has spontaneously started rhythmically saying tasks and counting with me (it is often hard for me to get people to count and say tasks in individual sessions, especially if they have not experienced the power of rhythmical intention in a CE group); I am even more pleased that when he counts he can walk and swing his arms and get up from a chair and coordinate complex movements.  I hope -- as I often do about my 'hunches' -- that I am wrong and that there is no neuro-motor disorder creeping in.  Without my training and experience as a conductor I would have no entry point for working with Mr LH -- I wouldn't know where to start.

Mr GL had a major stroke 15 years ago -- at the time he was fit and healthy and his stroke baffled his medical team and shocked Mr GL and his family.  The 'Enable Me' case manager wasn't sure if this was something a personal trainer should be involved in and called to chat with me about how frail Mr GL was and about his increased risk of falls.  I reminded her that I had many years of experience working with people after strokes in my previous life as a conductor.  Today Mr GL and I had our first session -- within minutes it felt like we had been working together for years.  I knew right away which tasks would work and what tricks to start him with, where to put my hands, where to push him, what it must have felt like for him to have his posture and symmetry and weight bearing corrected after 16 years.  I saw his eyes light up when he conquered a task that moments ago had seemed impossible -- a few moments and a little conductive magic make a big difference when those moments are spent practicing and learning to apply nifty little CE tricks.

There have been a lot of people in the 'Enable Me' program that have been deemed too frail for personal training and who have instead received physiotherapy only instead of a combined approach -- there are a lot of people in the 'Enable Me' program that I would have been able to help if I had been given the chance to work with them.  I got the contract with the 'Enable Me' program because of my work as a Conductor -- somebody whom I used to work with at the local cerebral palsy centre referred me and people involved with the program saw me working at the gym with people in wheelchairs.  But I am contracted as a personal trainer, and what I bring to the table as a conductor is not fully understood or recognized, and therefore opportunities to help people as a conductor have been missed.  At this point I do not believe that Conductive Education will even get a mention when the reports about the 'Enable Me' project are written up.  I hope I can correct this but I am just not certain it will happen.   I wish that when the contract was negotiated I had had the guts to stand up for Conductive Education instead of just being glad for the opportunity to take part.

Over and over and over again I hear people relate the advice they have been given by well meaning professionals -- 'you have CP / MS / PD / stroke / old age / whatever, there is nothing that can be done, accept it'.  That is just not how we think in Conductive Education -- because I am a conductor I have a place to start and a unique bag of tricks and conductive magic, but more importantly I have a conductive attitude that makes me believe that there is always something that can be done, something that can be learned,  that it is worth trying, so I do start, and start again, and try something new if one thing doesn't work.  I'd like to think that I am the same when I am wearing my personal training hat -- and I know that if I am it is because that conductive attitude is so much a part of me now, or because no matter what role I'm in, I'm always wearing my conductor hat.

http://195.122.253.112/public/mp3/Beatles/14%20Let%20It%20Be/The%20Beatles%20-%20Let%20It%20Be%20-%2010%20The%20Long%20And%20Winding%20Road.mp3

Free to be me

This morning I sat in the sunshine after my yoga class, and thoroughly enjoyed my still warm cinnamon and raspberry muffin and even warmer hot chocolate.  This in itself is an achievement.  More often than not, for me the enjoyment of such a moment is negated by feeling guilty about eating something I probably shouldn't be eating, or by biting in and realizing that indulging in a fleeting craving is so completely out of line with what I want for myself that I'm put off of eating it, or by analyzing the macronutrient contents and calculating what that indulgence will do to my bottom line which for me literally is my bottom.  For the most part this is actually a good thing for me -- the guilt and the mental and psychological drama are seldom worth the muffin, and knowing this helps me make better minute by minute and meal by meal choices.  Don't get me wrong -- I love food.  I really really love food.  I have a great relationship with food -- a much better relationship than when I ate whatever whenever, and I am much happier and healthier as a result of learning to make better choices.  As a personal trainer I always tell weight loss clients to look for balanced eating that is sustainable forever, with occasional guilt free 'cheat meals' and indulgences.  As a real person who always has and always will struggle with my weight and with the headspace that comes with struggling with your weight over years, I appreciate that even when the eating is right, until the headspace is right the struggle with weight is one waged mentally and heavily worn psychologically, regardless of what is happening physically and aesthetically.  For me, eating well comes fairly easily now; the headspace, however, takes a lot more effort.  That is why it was an achievement to simply sit in the sunshine and enjoy my still warm cinnamon and raspberry muffin and even warmer hot chocolate.

The muffin and the hot chocolate weren't actually part of my plan for this morning -- the plan was to powerwalk to yoga, have a quick and suitable protein snack after yoga and then head up to the gym for a  huge workout to make up for one that I had missed earlier this week.  But the sun was shining, and on the walk in I'd stopped to look out over the horizon where a bunch of surfers were gathered -- I expected to see ocean and I got to see a whale, which is clearly a good excuse for being a few minutes late for yoga.

And the yoga teacher, FF, is wonderful.  He is Italian; his voice is calming, gentle, and reassuring even though he speaks quickly and passionately.  He uses phrases like 'big time, big time' when leading the yoga which makes me laugh and relax.  I love hearing him call the yoga poses by their Sanskrit names through his Italian accent -- it helps me bring my mind back to what I'm doing.  He knows me well enough to be laugh at me (just a little) when my ego clashes with my body and my breathing and I fall over in a tangled heap.  He encourages the class to listen to their body and mind and makes the yoga work for us as individuals.

When FF is teaching I don't feel like a yoga failure because I haven't worked out the whole meditation thing.  Instead of feeling stressed out about not being able to meditate and getting impatient and twitchy and wishing that the class could be over or sneaking out -- I spend a few minutes with a gratitude practice.  I have been trying to make a habit of thinking through what I'm grateful for for a long while -- it is crazy that this is something that I have to try to do when there is so much to be grateful for.  I have to admit that often it is almost a chore; brush your teeth, crawl into bed, try to concentrate on gratitudes before nodding off.  After a yoga class, they just seem to flow.  I am always amazed at how many grateful thoughts pop into my mind in such a short time -- getting to talk to my dad on his 66th birthday when we feared he wouldn't see is 60th, a phone call yesterday from my oldest and dearest friend, waking up early for breakfast and coffee with AR, falling asleep talking about our upcoming holiday, getting paid to do work that I love in my business which is flourishing, a whale seen while walking this morning, a sunny day -- all in a matter of a few breaths.

I love the feeling of being all sweaty, stretched out, and bathed in gratitude.  I leave the studio -- the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and I feel happy -- and as I'm walking towards the gym I smell these muffins, fresh out of the oven.  The moment was right and I was in the moment.  The headspace was right -- and I knew that I could indulge and enjoy guilt and drama free.  So, this morning after my yoga class, I sat in the sunshine and thoroughly enjoyed my still warm cinnamon and raspberry muffin and even warmer hot chocolate.

"The truth is, I do indulge myself a little the more in pleasure, knowing that this is the proper age of my life to do it; and, out of my observation that most men do thrive in the world do forget to take pleasure during the time that they are getting their estate, but reserve that til they have got one, and then it is too late for them to enjoy it"

-- Samuel Pepys        

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_26FOHoaC78

References:

Gombinsky, L. (2009).  "The Physical Me" in  Just Do It! Young Conductors in their new world.  Ed. A. Sutton and G Maguire. Birmingham, UK: Conductive Education Press. pp.11-17.

A day in the life...

Do you ever have days that you look back on amazed that so many wild and wonderful things can happen between leaving your house in the morning, and coming home that same night?  Days so rich in experience and life it seems impossible that they were only days?

My day started with an initial consultation for Mrs PS.  Mrs PS has just joined the Enable Me pilot project and I will be her personal trainer for the next several weeks.  She will turn 90 during this period.  She has started to be a bit wobbly on her feet.  Her goals were to improve her balance and walking.  When I asked what 'improve' meant to her -- she said that she wanted to feel more confident when she was walking, that she didn't want to have to think about every step as much, especially when she was turning, and that if she could learn some techniques that she could rely on she wouldn't have to work out where to put her feet every time she wanted to move.  Shhhh -- don't tell -- I switched hats -- this is a job for Lisa the conductor, not Lisa the personal trainer.  Mrs PS also said that since she fell -- and she quickly pointed out that over two years ago she had had one fall and nobody would let her forget it -- she has lost her confidence.  She is not the first person to tell me that it was hard to know if the walking difficulties were actually due to some sort of problem with the legs or were physical manifestations of lost confidence, but regardless, walking was a challenge.  I hope that if and when I turn 90 I can fathom the idea of some personal trainer showing up at my door with her exercises and equipment first thing in the morning.   I hope that if and when I turn 90 I still believe that that it is worth giving something a go, that things can get better, and that you are never too old to learn a new trick or two.

Next I went to see Mrs BS -- we have been working on managing osteoarthritis and regaining core and leg strength and on mobilizing her hips and knees following hip injuries and replacements.  Mrs BS is motivated; she practices and works on everything I show her, and has made brilliant improvements, and is moving through the world relatively pain free.  Mrs BP is motivated; she is caring for a husband with a neurodegenerative condition who is in a nursing home and she needs to be mobile and well so she can help him.  I knew he was in a nursing home, I knew he had dementia, but today she told me about the neurodegenerative disorder, about how she tries to help him stand and how she gets him in and out of the car when she takes him out of the home for the day.  Next week and for a few weeks afterwards I will go with her to the nursing home to see if there is anything I can teach her to make it easier for her to help him; he won't remember that I have been but I hope that I can help her.  I will not charge her for my time -- she is a regular client, and I am my own boss and only have to be accountable to myself for how I spend my time.  Being self employed can be chaotic and challenging, but when things like this come up and I don't have to ask anyone for permission to do what I feel is right or justify decisions I make around the service I provide I am reminded that I am where I want to be professionally.

I then went to see FG, a young adult with atheosis and dystonia.  FG is a force to be reckoned with -- this fiery redhead is a policy officer working at the state disability and discrimination legal centre.  I admit it -- I was very intimidated by her when we first met 8 years ago.  At the time she was a law student and disability rights advocate, and I a soft spoken and shy little Canadian conductor trying to get an adult program off of the ground.  Over the years we have had some heated discussions and debates; she has been an incredibly valuable resource, an advocate for Conductive Education, and a friend.  A few months ago she opted for deep brain stimulation -- electrodes implanted into her brain to help her manage her dystonia.  It was a brave risky surgery,  I believe that she was the first in Australia with cerebral palsy to have the implant -- but it proved the right decision and has helped her tremendously.  Until about a month ago, when she had a fall and one of the wires broke.  Today we were 'kicking it old-school' -- pulling out the old and almost forgotten tricks that we had worked out several years ago to make living with dystonia a bit more manageable.  Today we were talking about emotional rollercoasters; what it is like to struggle, take a risk, get better and then have to go back to struggling again; about getting mentally prepared for another round of risky brain surgery next month; about consoling worried parents when you are worried and scared yourself.  I find myself taking mental notes on dealing with set backs and hoping that when faced with adversity, like FG I can 'fall down seven times, stand up eight'.  I find myself thinking, once again, how lucky I am to have people in my life that teach me life's little lessons.

From there I went to the hospital -- they had a special deal on just for me today -- I could see two clients for the price of one parking ticket.  CW has had her spinal fusion; her surgeon is very pleased with the way it all went.  CW looks a bit frankenstein-esque with a mad scar across the front of her throat and a another one from her head to the middle of her back.  Last week she pushed to be moved out of ICU -- as her husband put it, her brain was ready, but her body wasn't quite there yet.  Today, as CW said, both were ready and she had just moved into her room in the regular ward and is on the mend.  She is gearing up for a long rehab period, but already thinking about what we are going to work on first once she is out of the hospital.  CW's sister is a nurse and is very involved in everything to do with CW -- but she is currently on the other side of the world.  CW assures me that her sister is as involved as ever, calling ICU and getting the updates before CW gets the information.  I think about the special bond between sisters and wonder how my sister and my little niece way over there on the other side of the world are doing.

I then went across the hospital to the spasticity clinic where I met KD.  She asked me to accompany her to this appointment; we were hoping to get some sort of understanding as to why her spasms have become so constant, so violent, and so painful over the past few months, and of what could be done to make things better for her.  The disability health adviser for the Cerebral Palsy Alliance and KD's house manager were there also -- everyone knew KD in different contexts and had different information to bring to the table.  As a conductor you never know how you will be received in a formal clinic at a hospital and whether you will be just dismissed because you are not a physio.  This doctor that we saw was amazing.  We were with him for nearly 2 hours answering questions and discussing what was happening and how things had changed for KD -- he listened to what everyone had to say and treated everyone with respect without regard for our professional disciplines and using the various perspectives to help him put a case history together.  Most importantly -- he spoke directly to KD , looked her in the eye, verified everything we said directly with her, and made it clear that he was genuinely interested in her and wanted to try to help her.  In fact when he saw the way that she was spasming he offered to come out to assess her in her home where she could transfer and lie comfortably and be spared the horror and indignity that being examined on a standard examination table would have meant for her.  I have never heard of a high ranking specialist offering something like this.  I was reminded that there are amazing people in positions of authority who are humane and kind and humble, and noted my surprise at this, and noted that I had come in prepared to advocate and fight for KD (and for the validity of my professional opinion), and, noted that my cynicism was perhaps an unhelpful attitude that required adjustment.

Do you ever have days that you look back on amazed that so many wild and wonderful things can happen between leaving your house in the morning, and coming home that same night?  Days so rich in experience and life it seems impossible that they were only days?  Amazingly enough most of my days are days like this -- actually I believe that everyday can be like this for everybody -- if you take the time to experience and live and learn.

"It is shocking to find how many people do not believe they can learn, and how many more believe learning to be difficult. Muad'Dib knew that every experience carries its lesson."

--Frank Herbert (Dune)

http://www.mashuptown.com/files/13_Bring_Me_Back_To_A_Day_In_The_Life.mp3

Ask the Expert - or Putting the 'E' in 'CE'

Before I had any real understanding of what Conductive Education actually was, I was interested in it.  I had the general idea that it had something to do with helping people with disabilities and I liked the idea of helping.  I didn't really know what was meant by 'conductive' -- despite lengthy debates amongst other students and conductors, reading Andrew's various analysis' over the years, and spending the last 15 years trying to trying to explain it to other people I'm still not totally sure what it really means.  However, I did understand the word 'education'.  I have long been passionate about education, teaching, learning, and dynamic potential.  I had some amazing teachers over the years; teachers who lifted me, who inspired me, who saved me from my teenage self but somehow I couldn't see myself standing at the front of a classroom and 30 kids in a mainstream school teaching curriculum subjects.  You might think that hopping on a plane from Canada to England to pursue a career based on some vague ideas about helping and teaching and disability was a bit insane, but at the time it really felt like this perfect opportunity custom designed just for me had somehow fallen out of the sky and landed at my feet.

And yes, we studied anatomy and physiology, etiology and presentation of conditions and diseases, and disability politics.  But much more, we studied pedagogy.  We learned about learning and motivation and potential and transformation and experience.  We learned about Vygotskii and his 'zone of next potential', and we learned about driven and inspired teachers like Feuerstein who didn't just find ways to teach people deemed 'unteachable', but believed so much in the power and processes of education that they sought and developed alternative ways of teaching and unleashing potential, and in doing so transformed the potential of education itself.  We learned about inspired teachers like Peto who chose to see past the medical model of disability and to believe that teaching and learning could positively  influence the presentation of disability, and developed a holistic pedagogy around helping people learn ways to manage their bodies.  And we learned that everyone could learn, and that learning is a lifelong process, that learning is dynamic and non-linear, and that learning is a shared two way experience between teacher and learner and that both teacher and learner learn and grow as a result of the interchange.  These ideas still excite and fascinate me today.

CW is working to regain leg strength following a hip surgery, so that she can push through her legs and bridge in her wheelchair and therefore be able to adjust her position in her chair to get comfortable and to allow her to get dressed and do other things involving position changes more independently and without hoisting.  Last week after our session, CW and I were chatting, reviewing the progress that she had made over the past few weeks.  We agreed that there had been slow but steady improvements in the movement and strength of her legs but that we were both frustrated that the bridging wasn't happening.  CW respects and trusts her orthopaedic surgeon -- his best advice was keep doing what you are doing.  CW works with a fantastic physio -- who gave us great feedback on how much pressure CW was able to put through each leg and which muscles were and weren't firing -- interesting and useful, but again, not getting us anywhere.  We had worked out the obvious things -- that mechanically a huge change in leg length would change everything and had tried everything to adjust for that, and still, well, nothing.  Then CW said that maybe it was more about where her back was in her chair now, and that if she had something behind her to bridge over it would work.  And this light went on for both of us -- yes leg strength was vital to the bridging, but CW doesn't bridge like other people bridge, she has a complex system of arching her back and triggering a reflexive movement and then using her legs to support her.

So the next session we tried ... and here is the result

But the real result ... another reminder that though I'm the teacher, I'm also the learner, and I am certainly not the expert.  I have some pieces of paper from university saying I'm a conductor, and I have years of experience working with many people and their incredibly different bodies and have learned some tricks and 'task solutions' that I can share.  But I don't know what it feels like to be in CW's body -- she is the expert.  And because as the teacher/learner I had the humility to say 'I don't know, what do you think' and as the learner/teacher she had the confidence to say why don't we try this, we both learned, and we found a solution.

“To be a teacher in the right sense is to be a learner. I am not a teacher, only a fellow student.”                

            -- Soren Kierkegaard, Danish Existentialist

More about Seeing and Believing

This speaks for itself

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyBk55G7Keo&feature=youtu.be