Viva Lewes Issue #112 January 2016

icks and mortar
Chailey Heritage
The Commandant’s caring creation
There’s a story about Grace Kimmins’s benevolent
scheming. It was told by her granddaughter,
so it’s probably true. Kimmins was trying to buy
an extra bit of land for her school, but the owner
wouldn’t sell. So she waited for this big event,
when the Bishop of London came down, and
she got up in front of everyone and thanked the
owner for donating the bit of land. And it worked.
Kimmins was born in Lewes in 1870. She’s characterised
as a savvy fundraiser and publicist, a
determined and charismatic figure who knew
what she wanted and had no doubt she could
make it happen. She earned the affectionate
nickname ‘Commandant’.
Living in London as a missionary, working with
poor people, she “realised that there were people
who had disabilities who could work, but weren’t
being given the training, so they were being
marginalised,” says Chailey Heritage Foundation’s
chief exec, Helen Hewitt. “That’s why she
created the Heritage. She came from London
with seven young men who were disabled. She
decided they should be taught a trade.”
This was in 1903. The school was founded in a
decrepit former workhouse, with a leaky roof and
a rat problem and no gas or electricity. The boys
were taught carpentry, and then Kimmins used
her connections to get them apprenticeships.
Admitting girls from 1908, Chailey Heritage
grew until, at one point, it had four sites in the
village and an outpost at Tidemills. The curriculum
shifted away from carpentry and bootmaking
and needlework. As more of a focus on
medical care developed, operating theatres were
built, and children were cared for on nurse-run
wards.
The original building, the former workhouse, is
still there. Part of it houses the charity’s offices,
and does feel a bit ancient, with its low beams
and narrow corridors. But the rest of the building
is a modern-looking and immensely well
equipped ‘Life Skills Centre’, for disabled adults.
The school itself is in the latter style; it even has
a wireless ‘wheelchair-guidance system’ in the
corridors, with anti-crash technology.
Nowadays the school deals with much more
complex disabilities than in Kimmins’ time. Of
the 78 current students, more than half need
medically-assisted eating; the vast majority are
‘non verbal’. And yet, the founder’s basic idea –
to prepare students for as independent a life as
possible – is still the school’s ethos.
“We’re committed to their lives being as fulfilling
as they can possibly be, to help them fulfil
every bit of their potential,” Hewitt says. “For
some, maybe it’s the blink of an eye that says
they understand, and they want this rather than
that - for them that’s an achievement, because
they’ve been able to make a choice.
“If you imagine someone with cerebral palsy,
who doesn’t have very much physical control,
but actually has a lot of ability; if the school can
provide the mechanism, whether it’s through
Eye Gaze [eye-tracking computer software], or
a communication book, or even making them
comfortable enough so that they can concentrate
on learning, then that’s absolutely massive.”
Steve Ramsey
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