We're always being monitored to make sure that our services areaccessible to all children and young people.
We try our best but sometimes, when you've got limited resources, andit's a big world out there, you feel as if you don't quite make it inthe way you would like to.
For example, we are working towards finding ways of communicating andconsulting with children with disabilities, yet we struggle sometimesover whether to develop specialist services or include them inmainstream work.
And the pressure is on from funders to ensure we find a way of includingthem, which is only right. But as our consultation bod only works halfthe week, it's a big task.
But I've been thinking about things slightly differently recently. Onthe way back from a recent trip, a conversation about disabilitiesstarted. "My brother is disabled," one girl said. "He needs to use awheelchair."
"I'm disabled," piped up the lad behind her. "No you're not," the girlscoffed sceptically. "I am too - I've got autism," he replied.
Her jaw dropped. "Is he lying Claire? What does autism mean?," shedemanded.
"Why don't you ask John?" I asked her gently. So between us, weexplained to her what it meant. "I didn't know you could have adisability that was so hidden," she pondered.
As I looked around the children in our group I suddenly realised thatsix of them have what our girl called a hidden disability. Some areofficial, but two haven't had any assessment, despite the fact that theyclearly have communication and processing issues.
Don't get me wrong, I don't want any children labelled unnecessarily -they have enough of that already. But it does make me wonder if, withthe right support and proper training for workers like us, we could beoffering them a service better suited to their needs.
I'd rather try and get it right for those we know first, and then findthe resources to expand our work properly. Because ticking boxes doesnot an inclusive service make.
