Coventry Council of
Disabled People
and its role in my life
 My relationship with
Coventry Council of Disabled People was never an
easy one.
It rose to
dominate my life and become a major obsession,
responsible both for a sense of purpose and for
pain. At times it even rose above my concern for
my mother and led to conflict with her. Although
she was equally dedicated to the organisation,
and without her, I would have had no involvement
in it, she never let it get in the way of her
enjoyment of life, and kept it in proportion,
although ultimately both our social lives would
revolve around this and nothing else.
I believed in it
passionately for her sake to begin with, because
I wanted a better life for people who have to use
wheelchairs and put up with the inequalities of
public transport, but it soon progressed beyond
this as my understanding of disability and
disabled people grew. It then became both an
opportunity for me to learn new skills and for me
to find an outlet for my creativity in the
newsletter which I fought hard to have the right
to edit, and then to keep going until recent time,
when lack of funding has stopped this.
 My first involvement in the
organisation was a secretary. Although this might
seem a strange role for a dyslexic, my dedication
won out over the inherent organisational
difficulties of this task, and quite early on, I
found computer help and support, initially from
the Lanchester Polytechnic Race Relations Unit,
who taught me how to use computers and lent the
Disabled Council the use of their machines. My
main role at this time was publicity, writing out
to other organisations and newspapers introducing
the organisation, keeping tracks on new groups
and working closely with the chair to fix agendas
for meetings.
Alas during
meetings I was not always in best control of my
temperament, and were it not for the support of
my mother I do not think I would have lasted long.
My passion would often get the better of me, and
the truth is I really have no idea of the
niceties of going through the chair and not
interrupting people when they speak. As secretary
I could keep some control because I could not get
so involved as not to be able to take minutes.
 It was a battle of wills
sometimes, and I had to fight hard both to show
that I was capable of doing a newsletter and to
show the need for it, but in 1984 "Trunk
Calls" was born, and I was able to draw on
the skills and knowledge inherited from the
University Paper as well as my growing knowledge
of disability topics, and a writing style that
was blunt and to the point, not mincing my words
but telling it like it is. To my surprise this
grew popular as there are a lot of people who
like to see the authorities get a rough ride in
print.
Over time I grew
closer and more involved in another organisation,
who were responsible for printing the paper. I
learnt even more skills of graphics and layout,
from this group who also ran community arts
projects and campaigns which were close to my
heart. In the end when this organisation folded,
I inherited their photographic library, most of
which I donated to the City Archivist, keeping
only what the City did not want.
When my mother
took over the chair of the Council for Disabled,
I continued as editor of "Trunk Calls".
The organisation never had a secretary as
dedicated as me thereafter, going through
numerous rapid changes of personnel in the
voluntary position. However as my mothers carer,
I was also in effect her personal secretary which
allowed her to make up for the shortcomings of
any volunteers and run a tight ship as far as the
organisation was concerned.
 She had a natural gift of
public relations such as no salesman or graduate
of business school could ever achieve, and she
had a personality to go with it. With my support
she was able to grow the organisation into
something with a reputation beyond Coventry and
get us involved in National groups like RADAR,
which she went on to represent as well. I cannot
begin to do my mother justice for all the things
she was involved in, you would have to see her CV,
(on her tribute site) to see the full extent
which truly puts me in the shade.
Nonetheless Trunk
Calls was an important part as well, and people
who met us did not realise that I could be the
same person who edited and produced this
newsletter, and thus in a way began the dichotomy
of my character, there being the I who was fluent
in print and the I who was lost for words,
confused and combative in the flesh, The social
incompetent, who you would not want to take to a
polite dinner party as I had no idea of the
niceties of conversation, nor what to do with the
cutlery, who would bore you to death with the
endless pursuit of my one track obsession, which
was of course the Council of Disabled People and
Disability Rights. Nobody was ever allowed to
forget that.
All the time with
Coventry Council of Disabled People I was
learning new skills, going on courses available
to the voluntary sector. Since none of these
courses were academic or exam oriented, there was
none of the pressure that is put on you in
college courses, though I much regret that I only
gained one recognised qualification during this
time, that being in communication with deaf
people.
This was a very
valuable course as I learnt about myself at the
same time, and discovered another alternative to
spoken communication.
 It came about out of a
desire to make our services more accessible to
different groups of disabled people. I was one of
a pioneer group in Coventry who did what is now
becoming commonplace, in learning the rudiments
of British Sign Language and total communication.
Unfortunately
being a pioneer group it was under resourced and
I could not progress it any further than the
first stage. Nonetheless it was a valuable
experience.
Being dyslexic
does not necessarily help with learning signs
particularly as I am badly confused over left and
right, which meant that certain signs which are
usually made with one particular hand first were
made by me in a way that could be confusing to
deaf people who do not expect you to switch hands
in the middle of conversation. The signing
equivalent of mirror writing, which I also do on
occasion.
The other
difficulty was in not being able to understand
other peoples signs and facial gesture
particularly easily. I did not know at the time
that my learning disability renders this
difficult as well, I tried anyway and the
certificate is quite an achievement under the
circumstances.
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