'Let me tell you a story 1985-style' |
Monday, 29 April 2013
Abstract submission deadline
Last minute ideas
There is just one more day left before the abstract
submission dead-line for the World Congress in Munich in October, so there is
still time for a last minute idea.
I had my three abstracts all finished a month ago. I knew
that I would get requests for help this week so I wanted my plate to be clear!
I have just sent the last one of five that I looked
through back to the author for submission and one last one has just been lined up for tomorrow!
Helping hand
I have really enjoyed doing this finishing off work for my colleagues
and am surprised that more people have not asked me. I hope this means that everyone feels confident with their English and not
that there are fewer abstracts being submitted. I have the numbers 3, 20 and 49 on my three. I expect that there will be a rush of submissions tomorrow, let's hope that the computer network does not crash.
High expectations
I am sure that there will be enough submissions for the committee to
choose from so that the 2013 congress-goers have an interesting selection to listen to. At 360 Euros
pro-person I for one am looking forward to some high quality keynote speeches, presentations and
discussions.
Sunday, 21 April 2013
Bits-in-between for conductors
Easter Bunnies for Aimee and Oli |
They were loved immediately and christened Pinky and Bluey! |
A fortieth birthday present, he is called Woofie |
It was a shame that they had to leave, I miss them! |
Sis and I made some teddies for a charity that sends them to doctors, who work in war-torn countries, to give to their young patients to cuddle. |
Crafty times
It is nice to forget work, forget writing books and blogs, forget painting and housework, and just lose myself in being arty crafty for a while.
That is just what I did in March while preparing crocheted bunnies for Easter and again after Easter, when I spent a few days with my sister who needed just a little bit of help with some knitting - we had fun and we hope the children who receive the Teddies do too!
Monday, 15 April 2013
A little bit of my life for a change
Genoa station |
Living in an N-scale
model of Nürnberg!
I was
invited to Italy for Easter weekend to live like a princess in a medieval tower
in Albenga! Well it was not quite exactly like that, I was invited to Albenga and once I was there I felt like I was
living like a princess because the B&B was in a medieval tower and led to
all sorts of day-dreaming!
Ligurian Coast Express
From the double-decker train to Albenga |
I had
enthusiastically traveled once before, in Cyberspace on You Tube, on the coastal
train that runs through many tunnels from Genoa, along the Ligurian Sea coast,
towards Ventimiglia, chopping its way through the headlands and trundling just
metres from the beach on the straight stretches.
The
reality show was much better than I could ever have imagined especially as we
had missed the Intercity connection in Genoa which meant we had to go instead
by the regional, stop-everywhere, train. These trains are double-deckers like
those that I have traveled on in Germany and Sydney, Australia, so that was a
treat in itself.
Memory Lane
Before
I continue with the Ligurian holiday story, I have to explain that this holiday
adventure had actually begun the evening before when I had landed for the first
time ever at London City Airport, right in the middle of Docklands, just
minutes from the City. Landing at five in the evening I sped my way from the
airport to meet a friend at the Wyndham Theatre for a performance at 7.30! The
theatre is just behind the National Portrait Gallery, opposite the shop that I
worked in for about six months in 1979, after I finished my BA in Fine Art. A
trip down Memory Lane, nearly thirty-five years down the lane!
Theatreland
I may
have worked just in that spot in London opposite the theatre but in those days
I did not have money to spare for theatre tickets and my love of theatre had
not developed so much that I would have scrimped and saved to buy one. A shame
really as it was so handy.
The theatre
visit was to be a surprise. I had not been told what I was going to see and I
had been very good and kept my fingers away from Google. I am so glad that I
had done so.
My friend
teased me at first, pretending to move away from the Wyndham towards one of the
many other West End theatres. I was disappointed because by this time I had
read the posters and knew who was performing there but at the last minute he
steered me into the door, up many flights of stairs, through many tiny lounges,
into the gods, where with a glass of white wine in my hand, I took my seat.
It was
amazing to sit in a wonderfully old, over-the-top theatre, looking down almost
vertically on to the actors. It was even more amazing that one of the actors
was Rowan Atkinson! Yes, there was Mr Bean on stage in front of my own eyes. I
had been afraid that I might drop off as soon as I had a moment to relax but
with so much to feast my eyes on there was no chance of doing that anymore.
More than just Mr Bean
I must
say I was very impressed. Of course Rowan Atkinson was not playing Mr Bean, he
was St John Quartermaine in Quartermaine’s
Terms.
The
play was brilliant, the stage set was brilliant, I was in my element and it was
the perfect beginning to the trip to Italy that was to begin the next morning.
I had
heard and read that London‘s West End theatre is amongst the best in the world.
I saw Tommy Steele in Half-a-Sixpence
at the London Palladium when I was a teenager on one of my first solo trips up to
The Smoke, and the memory of the wonder of that still remains with me, but I
had never seen a real grown-up play in the West End of London before.
As some
readers will know I am a regular theatre-goer in Nürnberg. I love everything
about the theatre, from meeting friends beforehand, people-watching as the
other punters arrive in their glad-rags, the first rise of the curtain, the
interval drink waiting at a numbered table, more people-watching, and then the
final curtain call – maybe even a premier party afterwards to boot. I do of
course enjoy the plays that I watch too, and never have I seen a play of the
quality of Simon Gray’s Quartermaine’s
Terms, staring Rowan Atkinson. I was mesmerised from the very first moment.
Everything was perfect. The acting was of a much higher calibre, the stage
set-designs so artistically executed. It was just like real life, nothing
appeared to be faked, and nothing appeared to be acted. Even a little bit of Mr
Bean could be seen in the movements of Rowan Atkinson’s hands, the raising of
his eyebrows and the tweaks of his lips.
Albenga
The tower where I lived |
Going
overnight from a play set in a language school in 1960s Cambridge, to a medieval
tower in a town on the Italian Riviera, was like moving from one stage set to
another.
Italy, all foreign to
me
I left my home near the medieval old city of
Nürnberg at 18.00 and the next day at 16.00 I was unpacking my clothes in a medieval
tower in Albenga, Italy.
After a
flight from Germany - to be greeted by the bright lights of London and a wonderful
evening in an amazing theatre in London, a few
hours sleep, an horrendous ride travelling
on a crowded M25 (I will never get used to how close people drive to each other
on British motorways or how little time they leave to get somewhere even though
they know the roads are always crowded), and an uneventful flight with a
bumpy landing in Genoa I was beginning to wonder where I was.
I think if I had travelled to anyway else I
would have been quite disorientated but it all felt so nice as I found myself
in a scaled down version of the place I had just left the day before! I enjoyed
thinking of myself being in an N-scale layout of a G-scale Nürnberg. It was
like living in the layout on my coffee table at home, only the streets seemed
even narrower and the buildings taller. Albenga is a city of towers, with
originally over fifty with half of them remaining today, having survived
earthquakes and wars. The B&B were I stayed was in one of these towers, one
that lost the top bit in an earthquake at the end of the 19th Century.
Some of the beautiful painting |
I fell in love with Italian culture
immediately. I loved being in another foreign country, at times I found it
quite reminiscent of 1989 Budapest. I loved not understanding the language but
then realising that I did indeed understand quite a lot. I had been very sensibly
advised, by my British host at the B&B, not to get too confident and to avoid
the temptation to guess, he had obviously come a cropper doing this before he
mastered the lovely melodious language!
There was much more that I enjoyed about
being in this medieval town.
As dusk fell I imagined I was in a Dickensian
novel. As darkness fell the shadows cast fears around every corner and I
thought that any minute now the Artful
Dodger would scamper by with a policeman close on his heels. It was a lot
creepier than the G-scale version of Nürnberg where I am glad to say I feel very
safe as the shadows appear in doorways even though it does remind me of the
film The Third Man!
Although the coffee houses were similar to
those that I am used to in Germany the coffee was out of this world and much
cheaper too. As it was Easter there were
not only beautiful cakes on display in these cafes, there were also the most
amazing and most enormous Easter Eggs that I have ever seen.
Easter eggs |
I think I can honestly say that my favourite
part of Easter in Albenga was the cafes with its coffee!
My favourite cafe |
I had relaxed and also
slept more than usual. I realised later as I headed for Norwich that I was, for
the first time in months, no longer tired. The plentiful supply of fresh, sea
air had probably helped. As I strolled on the dark grey, sandy beaches I had
lapped up the warm wind on my face as the chilly, but not ice-cold, sea lapped
around my feet (note that I did not
paddle in the north sea a week later as my sister and I battled against the
east wind blowing off the sea at Gorleston. Yes, it was invigorating like in Italy, but it was so bitterly cold, as
usual).
Home from home on the
beach too
In Italy it was more than a touch warmer than
I am used to in my homeland and the wind had a different feel to it too. Not
lazy like our Norfolk wind that cuts straight through anyone trying to battle
against it. On the beaches of the Italian Riviera it was quite blustery at
times too, there were even breakers on the sea big enough for a surfer to enjoy,
but there was some warmth in the air. This warmth is the reason why cyclamens were
in bloom on balconies, palm trees were lining the promenades, and orange, lemon
and kumquat tree in many streets and gardens. To top it all the birds were
singing and swallows diving over the river estuary for insects.
As usual I found my pockets full of stones
and shells as I prepared to pass through the security checks at the airport but
most of my treasure, sea-washed shards of ceramic tiles were safely placed in
my suitcase at the end of each day, collected for use in a homemade mosaic
souvenir of some sort.
I also spotted many shoes in the flotsam and jetsam I think if I lived by the beach I would have created an arty sculpture with them as there were so many. Fortunately I did not have a suitcase big enough to transport them home, they would have been a bit smelly too.
On the beach |
On my way travelling back to Britain I wrote a
list of all the things that I had enjoyed about Albenga and Italy. I have
written about some of them above. Still on the list are –
·
the
beautiful clothes and the elegance with which they are worn, even when bundled
up in winter.
·
the
lovely family orientated living
·
the
handsome men
·
the
potatoes roasted with sprigs of rosemary
·
how
children and woman are treated so carefully by men
·
the
trains and the stations, the coastal line
·
the
shoes, everyone wore nice shoes
·
ice
cream, gelato
· the paintings in the alleys
Art in the alleys |
In the area of Italy that I visited it was
obvious that I was not in a country as wealthy as Germany, with council taxes
abolished by the previous government there was an obvious lack of investment in
the maintenance of the town but these cut-backs were not noticeable in the
dress, especially on this holiday weekend when families were out promenading
and eating in restaurants together, everybody dressed in finery.
Sharing holiday impressions
I took many impressions back home with me to
snowy, windy and cold Norfolk and even shared some of them in the form of
coffee, chocolate and multi-coloured pasta. Unfortunately the lovely ice cream,
like the alley ways and beaches could only be shared through the photographs.
Lemon and mint |
Blustery and wet holidays |
Yesterday as I arrived back in Germany after
a very cold, wet and wintery, Easter holiday for everyone, whether in Germany, England,
Hungary or Italy, spring arrived too.
In order to make use of the warmth and the
energy that I have stored up while on holiday this afternoon I carried my bike
up from the cellar at work, I got help to pump up the tyres then I peddled the
ten kilometres home.
What a treat
I really enjoyed whizzing through the countryside
after having seen it only from the window of a bus or tram for the past six
months. I hope that the sun stays with us for a few days so that I can get my
legs used to the twenty kilometres a day whatever-the-weather ride.
It is not
only the cold weather that has stopped me from riding my bike for so long. I
have been worried about cycling, especially in the city traffic, because I have been so tired after a day at work. I was afraid that I would not
be concentrating well enough to be on the roads in the poor light of winter. I
hope that my fresh start today is the beginning of several months enjoying the
fresh, early morning air and the warm, evening sunshine as I travel to and from
work.
It was a good start back at work.
Notes
Sunday, 14 April 2013
Adult clients, real collaborators
It is strange
how time flies past when my work with adults begins.
A three-week
block with children appears to me to last at least twice as long as a
three-week block with adults. I enjoy both but I wish that the work with adults
would last just a little bit longer. No sooner has the camaraderie picked up
again and it the time is over again for a while
I love to work
with my colleague with the little children who attend our sessions for three
weeks at a time, to meet the older children who attend sessions each afternoon
after school, and to help them with their lives in mainstream schools, but my
favourite work of all is with the adults. I especially enjoy the work with
the stroke group, although I now have another favourite string to my bow, with
the new group called Fit and Active at an Older-Age.
I wonder
whether it is because we do not see each other regularly each week that this
special camaraderie has developed. I expect that all group members, all in
their own special way and for very personal reasons, look forward as much as I do
to our intermittent blocks working together.
Taking responsibility
The stroke
group has been established since 2002 and has a hard core of members, with one
of them still with us from the very beginning. They are all active and it is
their active work that often attracts new members who they then encourage and
help integrate into the group. They all feel responsible for each other’s full
participation and the development of everybody’s skills, including social
skills.
A new group member, a new colleague...
...well sort of
I am really
lucky to have a former colleague working with me once again after a five year
break in the adults’ groups. I just love having him there; he brings a relaxed
atmosphere in the group with him. We had worked together for years previously
and developed a wonderful working relationship. We do not really have to
discuss much as we work, we just know what the other one is doing, and
we both know what all the clients are doing and need. We swap ideas and help
each other, and the clients, carry them through in action.
Our clients
love this atmosphere too as they know that things will run smoothly throughout
the sessions.
Personality traits
Of course there
are always clients who prefer to be with one conductor or another. We will all
have experienced that in our lives, and not only with children. Adults often
show preferences too. It could be a personality thing. It could be how we help,
how we touch people, how we speak to them or our actual physical strength.
The big chap in
the group feels safer when walking through the ladder in the middle of the room
with my male colleague beside him. I always put the ladder beside the parallel
bars when I work with him alone so he feels just as safe, he walks in the
direction so he can grab the bars if necessary.
Now that I have
a colleague again who is stronger than me we all prefer it that he walks
alongside the ladder with the clients.
One lady may
prefer the fine-tuned finger-tip help of a quiet experienced conductor, while
other clients might prefer the smiley personality of another, but perhaps less
experienced, conductor.
We switch and
swap so that no one gets too attached and everyone gains lots of experience,
conductors and clients alike.
I like working
with all these people, the conductors and the clients, and I love to observe
how we all learn and progress, and how it all comes together like cogs in a
well oiled piece of machinery.
Oiling cogs
Oiling the cogs
takes place at the hands of all members of the team and last week it was one of
the old-time clients who got on with some very necessary and quite tricky
oiling.
There is a
newish member in the group. He lives in a sheltered community, in a care home,
whereas the rest of the group live at home with their families. He has lived in
the care home for over ten years, since suffering a stroke when he was in his
late thirties. Two other group members are in their sixties, one has
children and lots of grand-children and has an active social life, and the
other enjoys travelling with her retired husband and participating in musical
and carnival events with him. A younger member of the group has a young family,
one of the children born since he suffered the stroke. All these factors are
important in the changes and transformations that take place in these clients’
lives, in their personalities and relationships with others, both before they
took part in conductive living and since.
Their ability
to communicate and the expectations put upon them from others to participate in
life differ, and of course change as their various social and physical skills
develop.
It was in this
context that last week I experienced something that made me smile inside.
One of the
group who ten years ago could not string more than two words together in her
native tongue (in English, a foreign language, it was a little bit easier)
mentioned to the newest group member, the one who lives in the care community,
that he did not smile very much in fact hardly at all. I remember her telling
me the story years ago about when the smile came back into her life,
when she realised that it had been missing and decided to live each day as it
came, and to the full. She put a smile back in her soul with help from her
husband.
She asked this
man why he did not smile. He was forthright, explaining that he had consciously
given it up years before, directly after he had suffered a stroke, at the time when
the smile seemed to disappear from his life. The lady explained how important
it had been for her to be influenced by her husband’s philosophy in life of
finding a way to do their best, to put on a cheery smile as often as possible,
and to make the most of their new lifestyle. The rest of the group, those with
families at home, added their nods of agreement.
In the event,
during that day’s session they all received smiles on more than one occasion
from the younger man. He is the one member of the group who does not live
with his family and therefore does not have people rooting for him in quite the
same loving way as the others do. He has no wife or children or grandchildren
beside him, motivating and encouraging him constantly to reach new goals or to
smile. This conductive group are his motivating force and it is they who got
him to smile again.
During the
three hours twice weekly that this group is together they often interact with
each other like a family unit, each with their own jobs to do, their own
supporting roles to play, their own acts of encouragement, their own highs and
lows, just as it is within a family. And it usually all goes on without words,
without spoken agreements, in much the same way actually as the work with my
new-but-old colleague.
Finding the words in a difficult
situation
As the session
progressed on the day in question the older lady, who can now string together
long sentences and hold interesting conversations, explained her more
complicated thoughts about what she thought was happening in the group, and she
soon became much bolder in her observations. I was amazed at her ever
developing ability to express herself. She was able to translate her thoughts
into words and directed them towards the newer group member, with the rest of
the group spontaneously offering in turn their support to both of them. I was
actually quite shocked by what I heard – but at the same time very moved.
More than a client
It was such a
strange situation for me to be in. I was receiving the kind of support from a
client that I would normally expect from a fellow conductor.
‘Why do you
only complain about your aches and pains and your fears when Susie is standing
beside you, and not when a male conductor is there?’ asked the lady.
For myself, I
did not at first know what to say, but I soon pulled myself together and
thanked the lady for thinking about this and being brave enough to ask. I had
actually been struggling to find a balance between encouraging this client to
be active and try new things and actually moving away from him and giving him a
break when he became quite tetchy. The man who had been asked the question took
a bit longer to react, he too I think was shocked and needed time to reflect on
what was going on.
The other group
members had time to pass their own remarks before he eventually said that it is
because I am small and he is more fearful when I am there with him. The lady
replied that there was also a very tall and strong young man (not a conductor)
who was helping him and that she suspected it was nothing to do with that at
all. We all agreed that she was probably right and the atmosphere improved
enormously.
Time to question the word “client”
I have happily
used the word client for a long time, I do not like the word participate. As my
clients and their groups develop so do our relationships with each other and
the word client no longer seems enough.
The members of
the group are there alongside me not as fellow conductors but as fellow human
beings engaged upon common tasks.
I am no spring
chicken but I am younger and less worldly than some of my adult “clients”.
As they begin
to master their motor disorders and the social disruptions that these cause
then these mature people emerge again in their own right and we really begin to
work as a “team” developing alongside each other, every one of us with a
contribution to make.
Acknowledgements
One of the
clients who attends this group, one of its founding members, has long since
come to the conclusion that it is time to question the words that we use to
describe the people we work with.
She addressed
this in the book that she wrote, “It came like a bolt from the blue”, a
book in which she describes the establishment of her conductive lifestyle.
Having thanked
several people for the roles that they play in her life she wrote –
“I also wish to say thank you to
conductor Susie Mallett. With her I have learnt how to be happy again and how
to do things. In the conductive group I have become an active person again (not
seen as an object). Susie has become a very close friend to me.”
Notes
It came like a bolt from the blue, A post-stroke story in words and
pictures by Waltraud Heußinger – edited and published by Susie Mallett,
Conductor, Nürnberg
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