The Welfare State was conceived as a cushion to protect those affected by disability, poverty and misfortune. It is not coincidental that it was introduced in the aftermath of World War II, as it became recognised that disability and illness as a result of the war effort were not necessarily anyone’s particular “fault”; and to compensate returning servicemen and women for disadvantage in the job market.
That compassionate understanding has been gradually eroded and lost as the old world of privilege and opinionated politics has reasserted itself. The wealthy have always punished the poor, justifying in harsh policies and political rhetoric the belief that poverty is punishment for fecklessness, feeble character or moral defectiveness. And so we see a move towards increasingly punitive and divisive assessments in terms of which its claimants are required to justify their claims – and highlight their suffering – rather than having their needs assessed objectively according to enlightened benchmarks that signal poverty or incapacity. The old-world view in which the rich punish the poor and reward themselves is being reasserted.
A retrogressive tax system is revealed. The bedroom tax is cruel and falls most sharply upon the poor and disabled; PIP introduces tests for mobility and personal care that are almost meaningless; and yet, our MP’s can claim the most exorbitant “expenses” and take umbrage when legitimate public scrutiny suggests their self-awarded compensation schemes are excessive or dishonest.
Different rules now apply in dishonesty. If you wish to be excused, make dishonesty glaring. If you want to get caught, filch fish fingers for the kids’ tea. Righteous indignation sounds loudest from those upstanding members of the establishment who themselves enjoy the most lavish privileges and exemptions. That was the state of play that Welfare reforms were intended to mitigate. Instead, we have a situation in which the most abject poverty is not only tolerated but, in a deliberate policy to divide and conquer, is now blamed on those who live in substandard housing and eke out a living on the minimum wage.
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March 18, 2014
Reading with Ariel
Fran Macilvey acceptance, books, cerebral palsy, change, choices, communication, conditions and diseases, honesty, hope, learning 'Trapped: My Life with Cerebral Palsy', Amazon Audio Books, cerebral palsy, Fran's School of Hard Knocks, Path To Publication 5 Comments
Reading with Ariel
I hope readers of my blog will forgive me: I have not posted anything this week, because I am narrating the audiobook of “Trapped: My Life With Cerebral Palsy”. Doing so is heart-wrenchingly difficult.
The audio producer kindly asked me if I would like to read. The word “like” suggests enjoyment, fulfilment. So when I said ‘yes please’, that was fine, and doubtless they see no reason for me to be unhappy about it. Of course, I would do it, even if they asked me again, I would give the same answer, but that does not mean it has been easy.
Writing about the painful episodes of my life – that would be from the age of five to about forty-two, then – is one thing. There is something reassuring in writing that conveys meaning which, while it may have to be spelt out, nevertheless maintains a dignified silence. Articulating the same passages with sound, brings a whole level of new pain to the experience which can hardly be appreciated by those who do not have to endure it. Actually, I am familiar with being told what to do, and my obedient persona complies easily with requests to repeat difficult passages. These are the worst, of course, because they are the hardest to get right, to do calmly, and so have to be done again. I pray continuously, not to break down and weep. I ask for help from my guardian angels. I clench my fists hard and beg, and swallow and wait and hope for the next storm to pass, because there are timetables to meet. Because there are only so many times I would like to cry about this, again.
It has something to do with feeling humiliated, and having to expose truths and lies that I have held beneath a dignified silence for so long.
Whatever way I might have chosen to play this, there were always going to be disadvantages and benefits. I learn, the storm passes, and a smile is always waiting to lift me up. Thank God.
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