A thesis submitted in partial fulfilment of - Etheses - Queen Margaret ...

(Cameron and Hussey, 2001:16). Through his plucky courage and determination Joey
succeeds and is rewarded by a good fairy who bestows upon him bounteous gifts:
43
“Oh,” Joey laughed, “I am so happy, how can I ever thank you enough?”
In fact he was so happy, too happy, his weak heart could not stand the excitement,
and he fell over, dead. Everybody was most upset.
“Do not worry,” the angel said, “Joey is gone to a happier place. For all his life he
was held back by his unfortunate disabilities. Now he is free.”
(Cameron and Hussey, 1981:20).
This story sold out in two days. Fifty copies were sold between assembly and morning break
to girls at the Lady Verney High School. A Tale of Christmas Cheer was a very dark
comedy, written with anger and bitterness. I would now perhaps suggest that at the time I
was reacting against media portrayals of disabled people, but I did not have the experience to
understand this. As far as I was concerned, disability was something to be laughed at. I had
nothing to do with disabled people and they had nothing to do with me. Disability was their
problem, not mine. I had just been knocked down by a car and that was different.
It was after I left school in 1982 that my father started suggesting I should register as
disabled. This was something I reacted angrily against and refused to consider. I would not
register disabled because I was not disabled. My father made this suggestion on various
occasions during the next few years.
In autumn 1982 I spent a period in hospital having my left leg shortened to compensate for
loss of growth in my right. Having engaged in several lengthy conversations with the lady
from The Church Army who brought round the book trolley, I made what, for me, was a
very important decision. I decided I could either carry on being cynical and negative, of no
use to anyone, least of all myself, or I could try and use my experience to help others going
through similar situations. I saw myself working with disabled people, helping disabled
people, but certainly not as a disabled person. I aspired for a short while after this to become
a social worker.
A number of disabling experiences stand out in my memory from my time as a Social
Administration student at Brighton Polytechnic. Enquiring about holiday jobs at a Wimpy
burger bar where staff were being recruited, I was told bluntly by the manager that he would
not consider me “Because this is a fast food restaurant and you‟re not fast”. A girlfriend‟s