SUSIE MALLETT

My visitors today

Sunday, 20 October 2013

WCCE8 2013 – Impressions II




George McDowell's Travelogue



The best part of my Congress

My favourite part of the Congress that I was personally involved with was being with George McDowell and his family at George’s workshop and book presentation. 

First I will publish here my introduction to his book that was also a press release at the Congress, followed by the resume of George’s presentation.

The book

This is my introduction to the book that I published as a press release for the Congress –

Conductor Nurnberg Press

From Conductor Susie Mallett

Conductive Lifestyles
George McDowell – edited and published by Susie Mallett


I have never met George and his family but I have been aware of their conductive lifestyle for almost all of my conductive life, by repute, through newspaper reports and from their own writing, online, in The Conductor magazine, in Intelligent Love and elsewhere.

In the years since the 7th World Congress for Conductive Education I have been actively encouraging people who I know in the field to take part in the 8th, either with poster or oral presentations. One of those who readily agreed was George. He decided that with the help of his ever-conductive family he would present about his ‘conductive lifestyle’, and I offered to produce a booklet to accompany his presentation.

As his extended family is able to speak several languages between them, one of them German, it seemed logical to publish this booklet in German as well as in English for use at the congress in Germany.

George and I are indebted to George’s Hungarian aunt Mrs. Magdolna Perlaki (neé  Aldobolyi Nagy) – Magdi – for the German translations, to his mother for her contributions, to his father for encouragement and technical help, and to Andrew Sutton who has known the family for nearly thirty years, for his Afterword.

I hope that by publishing another book in Conductor Nürnberg’s series Conductive Lifestyles we encourage more people with disability and their families, to share their active lives in print, while at the same time benefitting from the whole experience of creating and distributing their own written book.

Over the years it is books and booklets like these that have provided me with so much insight to the hidden parts of the world of disabled living. These are the parts that rarely get mentioned in the technical literature.

Along the way, I hope that these books also give some indication of what a conductive lifestyle at home, in the family, can achieve.

As Andrew Sutton said in his afterword ‘George’s book takes a fresh look and it represents a significant development in the technical as well as popular awareness of Conductive Education.

Susie Mallett, May 2013

Notes

1.  Susie Mallett is a British conductor, trained at the Pető Institute in Budapest, living in Bavaria now for 20 years.
2.  She works as a self-employed, peripatetic conductor and is also an artist and art therapist.
3.  As a conductor she works to develop the conductive approach as a conductive upbringing, and a conductive lifestyle, with special reference to the lives of families.
4.  She publishes two blogs:
5.   Since 2010 she has her own small publishing house Conductor Nürnberg, with four publications now, in English, German and Chinese.

Contact

George's book costs 10 Euros plus p&p
 


 The workshop with George McDowell


My Conductive Lifestyle

I.                  Guten Tag!
I am George McDowell from Belfast.

I hope you will understand me OK!  I speak in English, but with a Northern Ireland accent.

I am also fluent in Hungarian, because my mother is Hungarian, and I spent a large part of my formative years in Hungary, attending the Pető Institute in Budapest.

II.               My first “conductive” memories are from the Villányi út, the original location of the Institute. In 1975/76  I spent a whole school year there, as a day-pupil. I remember our daily trips by tram to the entrance of the Institute. Every morning we went through the main building to arrive to the wooden house (the “Faház”) at the back of the garden, to my own group. It was a long walk with my mother, and occasionally we would bump into Dr. Hári on the way. When this happened I was particularly careful to do my BEST WALKING. “Jó reggelt kivánok,” - I would say - , and she smilingly would’ve said “Mi mindig találkozunk” (“We always seem to meet here”).... At this time walking was a big task for me; I learnt to do it with the help of 2 sticks. (I was 4.) The use of a pushchair, or wheelchair was forbidden on Institute premises.

III.           And I kept to this principle while later attending a Special School at home in Belfast.
I went there by taxi, coming home the same way.  Our house in Crossnacreevy was elevated from street level, with a very steep driveway up to the door. The taxi wouldn’t drive up (nor would my mother!) so walking down to the taxi, and, in the afternoon, up to the door,  provided a twice-daily, out-of-school exercise for me. From 7 years of age I could walk independently, but it was usually very windy in Crossnacreevy!  A hand rail was provided eventually. When I arrived home from school with the taxi, I always tried to get out and hurry up the driveway before my mother could get down for me. (With her, and with “proper” walking, it took longer!)

At school I really enjoyed drama, music, and art-classes (the highlight was performing at Christmas Concerts!); also sport, which included swimming and horse-riding. I tried football, but not very successfully, as I ended up getting a front tooth knocked out when I was 11!

All through this time the summer months were spent “conductively”, partly at the Institute and partly at Hungarian, and other, holiday locations, with my father joining us from home.  
         
IV.            I was about 15 years of age when Conductive Education “came into fashion” in Britain. With the resulting expansion of the Pető Institute I, luckily, became part of their International Teenagers Group at the new building at Kútvölgyi út, and could thereby continue my visits to the Institute. Surprisingly, there were far more steps there (both inside and outside) than at the old place! I spent a lot of time practicing on the inside staircase with a conductor, and on the outside steps with my mother. I had a fear of the type of staircases where I couldn’t see the top or the bottom. We sometimes walked up to my grandmother’s 3rd floor apartment or we walked down, avoiding the lift so eventually I did learn to overcome (or rather manage) this fear. Much later I found out that it’s my „perceptual difficulties”, that are at the root of this problem (=I have rather limited field vision) , and that’s also why I could never learn to drive...

Back to Budapest, and the late 80-s, early 90-s! There were a lot of British and Irish families attending the Institute at this time. We enjoyed the patronage of the British Embassy. There were coffee-and-cakes on Saturday afternoons for us, and they also helped to arrange visits by British politicians to the Institute. Coming from Northern Ireland, I was well aware of politics by now, and watched with interest the various visiting dignitaries.

V.                At home we embraced the British R.A.C.E. movement (Rapid Action for Conductive Education) and – utilizing the sudden interest – we did several press and media appearances to promote the cause! RACE N.I. organized 4 consecutive Summer Schools, led by Hungarian conductors, which I enthusiastically participated in.

Meanwhile I had quite a struggle to pass enough State exams to achieve my ambition, to go to University.  I do have problems with Maths; however, I was admitted to the University of Ulster to study Sociology. 

I loved studying! Of course, I was faced with many new challenges.  First of all, access, - a taxi took me to the University’s back entrance, to the lifts, then I had to find the locations of lectures and seminars in the vast complex. I used the lifts – which were sometimes faulty, and I had at least one bad fall as a result. To take down lecture notes, I used a Dictaphone, and wrote everything up on the computer at home afterwards.  Not so long ago I was invited back to my University for an interview, and I saw how much more “disabled friendly” everything is now, (e.g. disabled students are provided with a Personal Assistant if necessary, and they don’t have to go in through the “Tradesmen’s Entrance” anymore either!).

At the end of 3 years I graduated with a “Two – One Honours” degree. It was a very happy day for me!

VI.            From then on: we just kept going, in what you may call a “Conductive Family Lifestyle”.

What does this mean for me?

  • I was looking for work and FOUND work – and, with essential help from the Government’s “Employment Support Scheme”, I have stayed in paid employment ever since.

  • For this I need a lot of support, so I continue to live at home. Lately I started practicing “independent living skills” with a support worker who is more visually impaired than I am! This certainly sharpens MY eyesight, when we work together in Mum’s kitchen!

  • I keep fit by regular swimming and exercise, paying for joint membership (for myself and my Mum) at a fitness club, where a trainer helps me in the Gym. (He is unfortunately not a conductor, but Mum does her best at the pool afterwards!)

  • I consider myself to be an “active citizen”: moving in various social circles, such as Church, politics, art & literature, I am a member of a mainstream Northern Ireland political party, I am on the committee of a major disability rights organization (Disability Action), Mum & I regularly visit an Irish Literary Summer School... just to mention a few of my “spare time” activities.

  • Last, but not least, I enjoy travelling. If you want to hear more about this, Susie Mallett enabled me to publish my Travelogues which came out for this conference in the bi-lingual series “Let me tell you a story”! 

October 2013





Notes

Resume of George’s presentation in German

Was bedeutet „eine konduktive Lebensführung” für mich?

-          Kindheitserinnerungen; im Pető Institut.

-          Sonderschule in Belfast, doch die „konduktiven Prinzipien” (Problemlösen, Geh-Übungen, Ablehnung des Rollstuhls) zu Hause stets vor Auge haltend; gestützt von
jährlichen Besuchen zum Institut in Ungarn während der Sommermonate.

Ab meinem fünfzehnten Lebensjahr: zurück ins „neue” Pető Institut: ich bin stolzes Mitglied der internationalen Gruppe. Interesse an politischen Aktivitäten um die „konduktive Methode” zu verbreiten. Auftreten in den Medien.

-          Zu Hause: Sommerkurse, geführt von ungarischen Konduktoren. -  In den letzten Schuljahren: besondere Anstrengungen, um genügend Statsprüfungen zu bestehen und dadurch zur Universität zugelassen zu werden. Zutritt zur Soziologie-Fakultät der „University of Ulster” - OHNE Mathe Reife-Prüfung! Studienjahre als „Bahnbrecher” für Schwerbehinderte.

-          Glanzpunkt: Promotion!

-          Auf der Suche nach Arbeit.
-          Ich habe eine Stelle! – Rolle der „Employment Support Scheme”
(Beschäftigungsunterstützungprojekt)
-          Arbeit behalten, Geld verdienen.
-          Familienferien zusammen mit meinem viel jüngeren Bruder Andrew: wir bilden zwei „teams”: Mutti und ich: wir folgen unserem eigenen Tempo, während Vati mit den Aktivitäten meines sportlichen Bruders Schritt hält. Jedoch, zusammen, als eine Familie.
-          Andrew verläßt das Elternhaus mit 19. Ich bleibe fortan zu Hause. Die Gründe dafür sind klar.

Meine konduktive Lebensart zur Zeit

-          Nach wie vor regelmäßige Arbeit. Fit bleiben. (Mitglied des „Health and Fitness Club”)  Mein Schwimmen wird immer besser!

-          „Unabhängigkeitstraining”, bezüglich Haushaltstätigkeiten, um eventuell  ausziehen und (zwar mit Hilfe) ein selbstständiges Leben führen zu können.
-           Rolle der positiven Unterstützung seitens meiner Eltern, meines Bruders, meiner Verwandten und Freunde, Kollegen.

-          „Ein aktiver Staatsbürger”: Mitglied verschiedener Organisationen: z.B. einer politischen Partei, der „Disability Action”, verschiedener Leserklubs; Teilnehmer in  Kirchenaktivitäten.

-          Freizeithobbies: Lesen, Quizspiele, computer-networking.

-          Ich habe meine Reiseerlebnisse in Reisejournalen niedergeschrieben, welche einzeln in Kirchenzeitungen publiziert worden sind.  Für diese Konferenz erscheinen sie im Büchlein-Format in Susie Malletts zweisprachiger Serie „Lass mich eine Geschichte erzählen”.                                                              

GEORGE McDOWELL
Oktober 2013



WCCE8 2013 – Impressions 1






What did you think of the conference?

This is a question most of us who spent three days in Munich last week will have been asked at least once.

What did I think of the conference?

This is a question that I have asked myself a hundred times this week and a question that I have discussed with several people too.

I have read a few messages online, usually expressing pleasure and offering thanks to the organizing committee for a great time, with a few comments on photographs. There has been little real discussion.

The only messages I have read that offer something more are from Ralph Strzałkowski on his blog and I thank him for his insights, especially here –


And me, what can I contribute? I will slowly add my own opinions, ideas and impressions here on my blog.

Are first impressions lasting impressions

One of my first impressions of the 8th World Congress for Conductive Education involved Ralph, who I had promised I would look out for, if I could find him in the crowd of over 600, and welcome him to the event.

Ralph was actually one of very few people who I did find in the sea of faces. Someone shouted ‘Hello Susie, I know you from your blog’, across the top of heads at the very same spot that I met Ralph, but I did not see her again. I hope that she gets in touch!
Yes, I knew personally a lot of people attending the Congress, but I also knew many more through Cyberspace, but I hardly remember speaking to anyone as most of the time I was running from one room to the other. I was rushing off for my own workshops and presentations, to those of people I had mentored or to those of my colleagues I was determined to hear some presentations that I had picked out for my in-between times, and now as I think about the question – ‘What did I think of the Congress?’, I am actually surprised at how many I actually managed to get.

I had no idea what time Ralph would arrive in Fürstenfeldbruck but I literally bumped into him in the huge crowd that arrived just before the opening ceremony. A mass of people were coming in and out of the main entrance foyer and amongst them I spotted Ralph. We made our way to register at a desk that was far too high for wheelchair-users to feel comfortable at. I witnessed many times over the first two days how the Congress team had to walk around to the front of the desk to give assistance with badges, book-bags and tickets.

As Ralph had informed us on his blog a few days earlier in a bulletin from Poland, he had lost his voice. Opposite the registration desk there was a café and as there were no drinking-water facilities, apart from on the various stages and presentation rooms, I ordered Ralph a cup of herbal tea. I did the ordering as once again it would have been virtually impossible for Ralph to have reached the counter from his wheelchair.

By this time Ralph had been at the Congress centre for about ten minutes. We were doing quite well, having already registered and bought tea, albeit from two surprisingly high counters considering that we were at a conference for people with disability, i.e. some wheelchair-users.

Looking around me, through the crowds, I tried to solve the next problem. I had a hot cup of tea in my hand and could see no suitable place to put it down so that Ralph could drink it. The space between the café and the registration desk was small and crowded. It was filled with buffet tables, the type that one stands at, or leans on, to eat and chat, if one is able to stand and lean while chatting.  If you were not able to stand and lean, like Ralph and many others at the Congress, there were few places to enjoy the coffee breaks or to share a chat. At the beginning of the Congress the only tables at the appropriate level for wheelchair users to eat and drink at were the trade stands, so it was to one of these that I made a beeline, the one just beside the main hall so that Ralph could nip in to the opening ceremony after his refreshments.

I am not sure whether the stand-holder was at first very happy with the situation, probably anticipating a string of wheelchair-users using his lovely laid out table for coffee break, but was very understanding of the fact that before I could mention the problem to the organisers there was no alternative.

At lunchtime there was still nowhere to sit to eat. Whether wheelchair user or weary traveller all one could do was lean. One friend, George, the author of my latest book, who is able to walk but not stand for a long time, was given a stool to perch on at the high café counter. Later in the day, by which time low tables had appeared, he told me what a conductive task it had been to get onto that stool to eat his lunch and although pleased by his success he was disappointed by the fact that there had been a need to ask – ‘Where are we supposed to eat and drink and chat?’

What else did I think of the conference?

There were a few highlights but more about them later. The things that have leapt out of my memories first are those things that should never have happened.

I was a carer and partner for twelve years. I lived my life for all those years asking questions like George and Ralph had to ask, and spent much time helping to find answers.

I am not only aware of the problems that all too often arise, I am also aware of how sad it makes the disabled person feel to once again be excluded from what may seem to the outsider as tiny matters. I am also aware of how sad it makes the carers, who instead of enjoying the moment are off again solving problems in order to make the day run smoothly.

It is exhausting and can be upsetting when this is the daily routine, especially when it happens somewhere where it is least expected.

Another question

Something else that I asked myself during and after the conference is –

‘Were people with disability not expected to go up on stage?’

Had no one told the organisers that some presenters would be wheelchair-users, or people who found steps difficult? Had no one discussed the need for ramps in rooms where there was a stage with steps?

Had no one thought that perhaps someone who was unable to negotiate steps might spontaneously wish to go up on the stage to receive or present, a prize or gift, or just to chat to someone?

There was no access to the main stage from the floor. If you knew before that you had to be on stage at a specific time then you could use the back entrance, but if you were asked to go up from the floor you could not do so, despite there being ample place to have built a long ramp.

In the smaller room with a stage there was no possibility for wheelchair-users to get on to the stage at all and it was in this room that Ralph was invited to speak as a keynote speaker.  It was also where one of my very first clients Franzi Walz, now 21, was to present her conductive life-story, together with a young conductor, Eszter, both of them speaking publicly for the very first time.

For some reason that I do not know of, it was decided that Ralph would present from the floor, a table was set up and eventually a microphone stand was found. Ralph’s presentation was really good but I am sure Ralph would have enjoyed it more had he not been excluded yet again from doing the same as everyone else, especially at this a conference for people with disability.

For Franzi it was a different matter, she had a band of supporters around her who insisted that she should sit up there on the stage. I think we would have lifted her wheelchair and all if need be, but it was up the steps that she walked with several conductors, friends and family helping her physically and mentally. It was only then that she was able to tell her story from centre stage.

She and Eszter both did extremely well and the strenuous task of walking the steps to the stage added to, rather than distracted from, the presentation.

But it could have been different.

Increased spasticity in her body could easily have made speaking difficult.

Franzi’s conductive lifestyle and well-being most certainly contributed to her success, and she left the stage, surrounded by well-wishers, feeling very satisfied and proud of her performance.

It could have been a different story; she could have left that room feeling very unhappy at being excluded.

The problem with tables to sit at to eat and chat was solved promptly, but the high café and registration desks and the stages, remained inaccessible for the duration of the Congress. 

If we cannot get it right then how can we expect others to do so?

I hope that lessons were learned.

Notes

Ralph Strzałkowski, Gainesville, United States
What I’ve learnt from Conductive Education: from my childhood with cerebral palsy to independent adult life.

Franziska Walz and Eszter Torma, Nürnberg, Germany –
My journey to independent living with Conductive Education