A Quiet Friday Night… Or So We Thought

So it’s been a little while since I wrote anything. I’ve been having a few health complications which has been very energy draining, leaving me no time to write down my endless thoughts. I think I’m on the mend now, so let’s get into it.

Friday night, we got home and realised it was Children in Need.
I loved it when I was kid! Summer cannot understand the idea that we only had 4 channels growing up and we all had to watch the same thing at the same time. She’ll never truly appreciate how exciting it was when a whole night of TV aimed at kids was on BBC1; soap stars, pop stars, silly sketches, the works. I’d make my dad ring the number and donate so we could reach the magic target. As a kid, I didn’t really pay attention to the sad videos, those were snack / toilet break opportunities.

We’ve never really watched it with Summer, as she’d never asked but we thought we’d give it a try.
Family bonding time!

It was exactly how I remembered it. Same presenters who were there the last time I watched it… plus lots of new ones I’ve never seen before. Summer loved the comedy sketches (she now wants to be on The Apprentice) and eagerly waited for the Eurovision alumni to perform.

But This Time, I Was the Adult Watching the Sad Bits

This year though, I watched the ‘sad disabled children’ videos. And it didn’t land the way it used to.

I know charity is important. I grew up being taught to help people less fortunate. I’ve always donated, volunteered, raised money. And I’ve always believed anyone can hit a hard time.

But this evening hit differently.

I watched children with disabilities being paraded on stage, complete with the magical able-bodied saviours who swoop in and ‘rescue’ them. I know it costs more to give disabled children the same opportunities as their peers but why are the public paying for this? Why isn’t this simply… funded properly?

Why does it always have to come with pity?

I could feel the thousands of comments happening up and down the UK:
“Such a shame… but look how happy they are!”

Pledge £10 so little Henry or Sophie can go to the same after-school club every other child just attends automatically.

And Then I Imagined a Video Featuring River

Opening shot: River skipping to Nursery.
Voiceover: “Meet River, he’s a happy little 4-year-old who loves Halloween.”
Cut to him in costume.
Next Video: Wholesome family moment, maybe baking where we’re throwing flour over each other.
Sad music: Voiceover: “River is autistic and with that comes its difficulties…”
Shots of meltdowns.
Voiceover: “With your £10 donation we can give River and his family some extra support.”
Final Video: Back to wholesome hugging, smiling, River flapping his hands whilst spinning. Donation number along the bottom.

It made me angry. You know you’re not very well when an imagined charity video upsets you!

I know we need support. I know these services need funding.
I just wish it didn’t rely on public pity and once-a-year phone-ins.

The Uganda Reminder: White Saviour Energy

Kike likes to remind me of the time I went to Uganda, as many well-meaning white people tend to do, the whole White Saviour Complex thing.

And he’s right.

I went because I genuinely wanted to help. I raised money, took supplies, documented it all for the kids at school. But… what difference was I actually making?

Did teaching English phonics to 120 children really change anything?
Who did I think I was?

Thankfully, my host was an amazing man with big plans. He welcomed people like me because we brought money and exposure. We’d talk long into the night about his life and community. I’ll never forget him or my time there but I’m under no illusion that I taught anyone anything.

So Where Am I Going With All of This?

Maybe becoming a SEND parent peels a layer off the world.

You start to see how much of our support system relies on charity, pity, emotional manipulation and “look at these poor children.”
You realise how much is not being funded by the actual people responsible for funding it.

I don’t want River seen as someone to feel sorry for.
I don’t want him turned into a storyline so people dig into their overdrafts.
I don’t want to be someone’s inspiration because “it must be so hard.”

I want equality.
I want accessibility.
I want proper funding.
I want understanding instead of sympathy.

I want a world where River doesn’t have to be ‘a cause.’

So Maybe This Is the Point

I still believe in kindness.
I still believe in giving.
I still believe everyone should help where they can.

But I don’t believe in pity.
Or saviours.
Or disabled children being used to emotionally manipulate the nation into funding services that should already exist.

I don’t know if I’ll watch Children in Need next year. (It’s a tricky one because there were a lot of Eurovision people on)
But I do know I’ll keep writing, talking, questioning and pushing because that’s the only way this changes.

And because River deserves a world built for him, not one that tolerates him once a year for a TV special.

Photo dilemas

Again, a tricky post to add a photo. I decided to add one of River enjoying his time at our Sunday stay and play. One that is funded by our local council but also heavily relies on community donations.