Tag: disability

Australia's Biggest (and most beautiful!) Morning Tea

Sydney catering company Dinner on the Table hosted an Australia's Biggest (and most beautiful!) Morning Tea event last Thursday in collaboration with the Hills Super Centre. We raised money for cancer research, delivered ready made meals for families living with disability, and ate a beautiful morning tea together.

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Boys are born competent. Girls have to prove they are

"Boys are born competent. Girls have to prove they are," someone once said to me. I was horrified. Surely that wasn't true?

Last week I attended the junior recipe testers' swimming carnival. I helped with timekeeping, which was both fun and nerve-wracking in equal measure. My juniors swam in their age races, I got to watch and cheer from close quarters, and while neither are currently showing promise as the next Australian champion, they both did well.

My daughter did very well in her age group, recording one of the fastest freestyle times for her age, and the fastest for her house. This qualified her for the 4 x 50m relay. My son also qualified, although not as far up the list as his sister.

When the relays were called up her name was top of the list. She looked panic stricken. "I don't want to go in a relay!" she implored.

At that moment I couldn't have known the what would follow. Over the following few hours she and I would span the emotional rainbow: tears, tantrums, shouting and sobbing. Eventually it came out: she was worried she wasn't good enough and would let the team down.

My son swam for his team without a second thought.

My heart broke. Her anguish was palpable and there was nothing I could say to either change her mind or convince her of her value to her team.

My blood boiled. Why do we live in a world where competent, very young women question their competence, in a way that our very young men do not? As a mother, what was I doing wrong?

"Am I good enough?" is asked by many women: the young and the not-so-young. For the first two years of Dinner on the Table's existence I felt physically ill every time I went into the kitchen. There. I've said it. Out loud.

I am privileged, I am educated and I am accomplished. And for 730 days I was hamstrung by a fear that I wasn't good enough, that I was a phoney, that one day I'd be found out for a fraud. No one told me I was hopeless, as far as I can recall. That was my conclusion. I'm not proud of it, but there you have it.

"Am I good enough?" is one thing. "Are you good enough?" is a different question entirely.

Women with disabilities may routinely be told they are incompetent: they will never hold down a job, could never care for a child, never hope to have a relationship with someone who cares about them deeply. There's no expectation they'll do the things their non-disabled sisters will do.

Women who care for a child with a disability may be told their child is worthless. The competence of mothers like Natalie may be challenged because she loved, and cared for her child. The cruel argument generally goes something like, "What sane woman could love a child like that?"

When Amanda found out she was pregnant with twins I sat with her and helped her understand her ultrasound report. She allowed me to walk with her during her journey from woman to mother. I watched her make difficult, sometimes painful, decisions in the best interests of her unborn children.

Amanda, who has a moderate intellectual disability, is a success story. Told she was incompetent for much of her life, a key few people believed in her when her babies were born. Amanda surrounded herself with people who recognised and supported her ability to mother her children. And they rolled up their sleeves and helped her do just that.

The voices of women like Amanda and Natalie are seldom heard. These women must daily prove their competence in the face of others who assume their incompetence. Those questions may be less an internal demon, and more an external threat.

I continued cooking because I was convinced that we can change the daily lives of vulnerable women, and their families, by understanding their experiences, and supporting them differently.

I remain convinced. 

The over-sharing and the ridiculous...

Legs of a woman in a white skirt, holding a basket of flowers

I assume it's not just me, others too, find themselves in this situation. But there are times in life when you are forced into the most ridiculous conversations. Living with one or more  junior recipe testers under the age of five will mean this is a daily occurrence. But it is made even more problematic when you are forced to have a ridiculous conversation in a very public place.

Now, I realise, I am at high risk of over-sharing here. So if you are prone to embarrassment, please do avert your eyes.

I recently had need to visit the GP....

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Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Painting of a wonky muffin

We had a special day today in the kitchen, as we were joined by two clients of Northwest Disability Services who came to volunteer their time in the kitchen. They helped us package your dinners, wash up a myriad of pots and pans (you should see the mountain of washing-up we create each day) and they also found time to make you some choc chip muffins.

These muffins don't look like our ordinary muffins. And that's because they aren't ordinary...

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Altruist or other?

Question mark made out of cherry tomatoes on a wooden board, with the question "What if..."

I have a confession. It's something I have known for a while. But it seems to run so contrary to popular opinion, I find it hard to say it out loud.

I don't think gifting dinners is a nice thing to do.

A few months ago, I was offered a half scholarship to study at The Women's Business School. And so a month ago, I commenced. I have just handed in my first assessment. I have never, in all my years working and studying at University, completed an assessment quite like this one...

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We're in the news...

Tomatoes, herbs and apron

We are so excited to appear in the Hills District Independent magazine this week.

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I don't want to get run over by a garbage truck

Image of green rubbish bag against a wall

I don't want to get run over by a garbage truck. My guess is, neither do you. And for this reason, if no other, we need to realise the importance of dinner.

Really.

The other week I was chatting with someone about how daily life happens in her house. She has a son with significant disabilities. In amongst the usual afternoon and evening activities found in a busy household, was dinner. No great surprise there. Except, as this woman explained, her son with disabilities needs to be fed. He is unable to eat his dinner on his own.

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Who cares? Carers Week 2016

Pegs on a clothesline

The week just gone was National Carers Week in Australia. It's a chance to say thank you to those who provide care in all sorts of ways, and to recognise their valuable work. Informal carers save government in this country over $1BILLION each and every week: over $60billion annually. That's a lot of dollars in anyone's language.

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None of us are islands

Three children on a New Zealand beach

These three are important to me. I'm their mother, and I look after them. But not every second of the day...

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Guest blogger: Marjorie Aunos - Becoming a parent with a disability and what dinner means

Marjorie with her son in an apple orchard

A few weeks ago I wrote about my friend and colleague, Dr Marjorie Aunos, from the West Montreal Readaptation Centre in Montreal, Canada. Marjorie recently visited Sydney and gave a lecture about her experiences from leading research into parenting with a disability to becoming a parent with a disability herself.

 

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