About Face

Face

How many times have you heard something on the news and, distracted by your own problems, not really thought about the implications? Strikes, murders, even natural disasters – we may mutter “Oh, how awful” but, as long as it’s not happening to us or someone we love, in a situation we’ve experienced ourselves, we can often dismiss it as somebody else’s problem.

This is partly because it’s very easy not to care about something if it has no face. You don’t have to look in the eyes of the person affected, hear them explain why their life is suddenly going to change, or see them struggle to cope when it does. You can carry on as you are, safely enjoying the old adage ‘Ignorance is bliss’.

The government seems to be in this position, making decisions – or in this case, mistakes – that will have a profound effect on a huge number of people. For them, it’s all about money; sacrifices need to be made, and they need to be made quickly if we’re ever going to escape the economic pit they say we’re still trying to claw our way out of. So, they’ve set about balancing the nation’s cheque book, pulling funds from here, there and everywhere – including a vulnerable group who, conveniently, remain completely anonymous to them.

The thing is, for a lot of people who don’t get to have much of a say in these decisions, it’s not a faceless section of society that’s being legally burgled. It’s their neighbour, their friend, their family member, their partner, or even themselves – and they all have faces. At the moment, they have worried faces because they’ve been told, without a shred of regret or apology, that the Disability Living Allowance will soon be no more.

For those who don’t know:

Disability Living Allowance – sometimes referred to as DLA – is a tax-free benefit for disabled children and adults who need someone to help look after them, or have walking difficulties.

- DirectGov

There’s a lot more to it – this is a good read if you do want to know more about what it is and who qualifies: http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/joepublic/2011/jan/13/disability-living-allowance-benefit-cuts-protest.

Let’s go back to basics – it’s called DLA. The Disability Living Allowance. The clue’s in the name; it’s not the Disability Bonus Allowance, or the Disability Extra Fun Times Allowance (although DEFTA does have a nice ring to it). The whole point of DLA is to help people with disabilites live full lives. Whether it’s used to make sure you can hold on to your independence by travelling safely, visiting relatives, paying for a carer to be there for you when you need them, or the ability to leave your home rather than feeling imprisoned. Put simply, DLA is meant to help you live, rather than just exist.

And this is what the government has decided to cut.

“But,” they cry, “we’re not just getting rid of it – we’re replacing it with a new and better system!”. Yes, Personal Independence Payment (cutely acronymed PIP) is their answer. The difference between PIP and DLA? PIP is set to be much harder to qualify for.

Now, no one would argue against having a strict application system in place (personally, I think anyone who abuses this kind of benefit deserves to be shown firsthand what people who need DLA actually put up with). But it’s already difficult to qualify – unless you have a library of documents proving your genuine need for help and have been exhaustively assessed, you cannot claim the benefit. So, why put further restrictions on the funds? Simple – to make sure fewer people access it, thus reducing the amount spent on care and disability assistance.

I don’t mean to sound like a grumbling anti-establishment anarchist. Realistically, we’re never going to be 100% happy with any government. It’s in our very nature to complain and wish for better, particularly from those we see as to blame for everything that goes wrong in the UK. But really, there are limits.

Equally, you may be mentally branding me with the words ‘Sanctimonious Arse’, which I promise you I’m not. I’ll freely admit that, had this happened a year ago I wouldn’t have been able to tell you anything about DLA, and I certainly wouldn’t have written this rambling, dissatisfied monologue. I’ve recently started working for a charity, and part of what we do is residential care. It’s a quiet aspect of the organisation, because it’s completely self-contained. There’s no government funding, no worldwide appeal for money and support; just a select number of dedicated people who give their time and care to help those needing an extra hand in their day to day lives. I’m not even one of the caring ones; my job is downright selfish by comparison. While the removal of DLA won’t mean that our residents will find themselves out on their ears, it will have a real impact on their lives, particularly as the mobility aspect of support is to be removed.

I’ll also admit that my knowledge of the detailed ins and outs of the DLA/PIP change is still somewhat hazy and incomplete – and I’ve been reading up on the bloody thing! But that’s beside the point. The point is, now I understand – not even understand; now I can comprehend what kind of implication the proposed change will have on actual people. Not statistics, not faceless groups or organisations that I’ve never considered before in my life – but actual people I’ve talked to, laughed with, been teased by, and watched cope with things that I honestly don’t know if I’d be brave enough to contend with.

I’ve only been in my job for 7 months, but I’ve met some wonderful people who will soon be hit by this decision. For me, they’ve put faces to the issue. More than that – now there are names, personalities and stories behind it. It’s not just a cut to ‘residential care’ anymore; it’s a cut to Sarah, Bruce, Katy, Alan, Emma, Michael, Peter… They’re not my family, or even my close friends, but I feel genuinely angry for them when I think about what the government is about to do.

This is extra pressure and stress to be put on the shoulders of those who have, up till now, benefited from DLA – those living in residential care; individuals who act as carers (often relatives and friends, not just paid professionals); and not forgetting the huge number of people that live independently and somehow manage to keep it together when the government makes it so bloody difficult for them to receive any support or care at all. Haven’t they got enough to deal with? Should the callousness and ineptitude of the government really be at the top of their list?

Now I have a problem. I’ve reached what should really be the end of my argument and… I don’t know what to say in conclusion. I’m lucky, in that I haven’t had to find out what it means to be at the end of cuts like this. Touch wood, I’m healthy and can’t understand the full implication of what is going to happen when the change goes through (if indeed it does) in 2012. Never have I been so thankful for that, and so angry that I can’t do more to help the people who are in these situations.

I’ve had very limited, short term experience of what it’s like to be a carer, in a completely different situation – it’s just not comparable, but it’s my only point of reference, so I have to use it. If someone had told me that my Dad, incapacitated after extensive invasive cancer treatment, was going to find himself without even a small element of the help that made such a difference to him, I’d hope that other people would recognise how unfair it was. I’d hope they’d see his face, see that he was a person and not a statistic, and that they’d stand up for him when he couldn’t fight his own battle. There are far too many people who can’t make their voices heard, and others who just need a loudspeaker. That should be our job, and we need to do it.

Rather ineloquently, I’m going to wrap this up by recommending a couple of Internet pit stops. Essentially, they’re people who’ve managed to voice their thoughts far more fluently and succinctly than I have:

- Amelia Gentleman’s article in the Guardian is a perfect example of why this issue is so utterly inhuman. She brings some names and faces to the fore: 
http://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2011/jan/12/disability-living-allowance-cuts-charities

- The main flaw (emphasis on the word ‘main’) of the last 1200 words is my detached viewpoint. Well, here’s someone who can give you an opinion straight from the horse’s mouth. Only, he’s not a horse… http://chrisjhornby.wordpress.com/2011/01/14/pep-talk/

Blankety Blank

Part One (hopefully…)

Here’s my problem – whenever I sit down to write, my mind goes blank. It’s as if I forget all the words I’ve ever learned and instead my head is filled with empty space. Staring at a blank page is somewhat like peering out of a plane when you know you’re about to parachute to the ground below. Well, I imagine. Not having a death wish, I haven’t thrown myself out of a plane as of yet. Although, 2011 could be the year.

It wont be.
Continue reading

Madness & Victor Borge

Pick one big event in your life, and you’ll probably be able to recall every little detail. The time, the place, the sounds, the smells – they all become time-stamps on your brain, which safely files them away for nostalgic future reference. Continue reading

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