we can't all install electric fences

I was going to blog about the Cornish pensioner who is so sick of harassment and the threat of burglary he has erected an electrified fence around his bungalow. He has been driven to do this by the lack of response from police and local authorities to his initial complaints. Funnily enough after the news being dominated by the tragic Pilkington case, now that the pensioner has gone to the press he is expecting a visit from the local mayor and the police tonight, to look at solving the issues he is facing, being targeted and harassed by thugs and criminals (he has been burgled in the past.)

Anyway I was going to just mention that news story but today I was at an event with the gypsy and traveller communities. It was an incredibly interesting, illuminating and in some ways inspiring way to spend my day. The women who attended - they were predominantly women - had a wealth of experience, wisdom and strength to share with one another. The event really brought home the message that only exploring real people's experiences and really involving people whether young, old, disabled, travellers or anyone, will develop a true and useful understanding of everyone's needs. This is where policy development should begin.

When I worked for the Mayor of London (Ken that is) it was the approach we took. If people with learning difficulties told us they weren't being listened to or understood by the police we would ask people with learning difficulties to get to gether and we would provide police officers of all levels to meet with them. The police wouldn't be allowed to leave until they had come up with some actions to improve things.

So what I am saying is that we all have powerful voices and so I am going to start by sharing some of my experiences of disability related hate crime, bullying, harassment - what ever you want to call it. I am incredibly lucky that I have never experienced persistent serious harassment or abuse, but my experiences I think are quite telling, I also think that it is important for me to be honest. I have a successful career being Head of Equality and Diversity for a large regulator, but I still experience many barriers and bad attitudes from society.

My first experience of disability related bullying of any kind was when I was 6 or 7. I wasn't expecting it one bit. I had been accepted by my peers at nursery and primary school. So I wasn't prepared for a gang of local big kids - they were about 12 - turning on me in the local swing park. I was with an older friend and my house was opposite the park. The gang of kids started hurling abuse at me, calling me names, then they started throwing huge clods of mud and stones at me in an attempt to smash my glasses. My glasses were the proverbial jam jar glasses. The kids eventually drove me and my friend out of the park, muddy, bloody and tearful. I was totally bewildered to why this had happened but for the first time in my life I felt that my disability could cause me shame, embarrassment and I felt very, very different.

It wasn't for another 20 odd years that I realised that what happened to me is a great illustration of how the social model works. I wasn't disabled as a child, I had a visual impairment but my environment was adapted for me I didn't feel any different to anyone else. But as the mud and stones hit me and I ran for my life, that's how it felt, I was disabled for the first time. Not long after this incident I was knocked over by a bicycle on a quiet road and the combination of these events led me to delve into myself and not want to leave the house. Eventually a mobility officer had to work with me to build my confidence of getting about I was scared of roads but I was more scared of other children. I didn't breath a word to my parents about these fears though. After that if anyone tried to bully me I hit them back and got into a lot of trouble for fighting every now and again.

The last time I experienced any significant (I'll get back to this later) disability related abuse was on London underground. I was finding it particularly difficult finding my footing on the steps out of an underground station. I was suddenly pushed hard and purposefully from behind and a woman yelled "Get a move on - are you f*****g blind" I turned to look at the woman, she turned out to be a city type in a sharp suit and stilettos, I tried to calmly say "yes I'm partially sighted" but my voice was shaking. She just shoved me one more time hissing "For F***s sake get out of my way - you're a menace." Interesting turn of phrase she had.

Now, even I can get cross at slow walking pedestrians not that I'd shout at anyone I hope. What was interesting was that when I explained I was partially sighted she was either so shocked, horrified, appalled or all three, that she continued to abuse me even more viciously.

I said "significant" above because on an occasional but constant basis local teenagers will pass me in the street or super market and find me incredibly amusing. Whether it is the jam jar glasses, my nystagmus or because I am holding something close to my face to read that amuses them they make it quite clear that I am hysterically funny, as they mimic me. Petty and low level but when I'm not feeling too good its enough to make me not want to go out. Sometimes I can't bare to be seen wearing my glasses when I am feeling low. I fixate on my glasses being the issue when I know they aren't.

I just hope that by sharing these experiences I have exercised a few demons for myself but also shed light on the kinds of abuse that disabled people often face on a daily basis for no other reason than the fact that we are disabled. I don't consider the examples I've given as being serious but after 30+ years of this and many more different barriers being put in my way it does build up.

Luckily for me I am certain this has made me stronger but it could so easily have swung the other way.