There is a Christian prayer or poem with a line about deciding when to speak and when to be silent. I don’t know where it’s from, the history of it, or the context. It’s there though in my subconscious, ready for use as the need arises, even though I’m not religious. That’s culture for you, and school assemblies. Twice yesterday, there were choices to be made. To speak, or not to speak. First off, in a class about feeding and mouth care. I was feeling slightly unwell, which contributed to me failing to raise a paw. The lecturer explained how she had been told that bibs are not used in learning disabilities services due to the childish appearance. Frankly, this is far from accurate (although I’d agree they are avoided in the same way that spooning food into people is if it can be). Later, I wondered about why, given decades of learning disability experience, I had kept quiet. After all, it is a small but important issue and relates to situations which are wrestled with by many of the professions of people who care, irrespective of who they care for. It had come down to not wanting to show off, and to wanting to give others to the chance. I’m aware that’s patronising, but I only do honesty here. In the end, I dropped an email to the lecturer concerned, and she replied very graciously. I wasn’t sure how it would be received, thinking I might be wasting her time, but I’m glad I did because it got it off my chest. Each trade develops its cultures and customs, even if there's no logic there's usually a reason. In case you're interested, here's what I wrote: Although I'm studying mental health nursing now, I worked in learning disabilities services for twenty years and saw the progress away from bibs (although I never worked anywhere where there was an absolute ban).
In the long stay hospitals it was part of the culture that most people were put into bibs irrespective of need. The practice continued into the early 1990's when people were transferred into the community, it was challenged under the new values of normalisation and choice. A further problem was that people were often put in bibs at breakfast and left in them all day. As many people who need help to eat also often produce excessive saliva (or fail to manage it) they would become soaked in drule as the day progressed, becoming sore around the neck and getting skin infections. The appearence and smell were, indeed, quite offensive.
I've certainly worked with people who lived with their families who used bibs comfortably, and used bibs for some people as the need arose. I was surprised to hear of the rigid attitude but I wonder if it is a local issue brought on by perhaps over-rigid, if well meaning management.
Later in the evening, I responded to an ‘emergency’ facebook appeal for an opinion about reality TV from a woman 40+. Ahh, irony. It is so easy to speak about something that don’t care about that I offered immediately, wrote something, found out I had needed to comment on the impact on children, and then wrote a bit more. I was genuinely happy to help, and it might be in the paper. If not though, here’s my almost midnight thoughts on the impact of reality TV on children:
My teenage daughters got me hooked. Talking about reality tv is one of the things we can discuss without treading on each-other's toes. In some ways it has brought us together, not quite as a family though as my husband feels excluded.
The ones with a focus on music and dance may well influence some young people growing up to think about a career in the media, but I'm not sure that's a bad thing. My eldest used to like the Supernanny programmes, qualified in childcare and is now at university intending to be a social worker. She might have achieved this without Jo Frost, but I have a feeling that Supernanny was a force for good.
