Alliance and Momentum

The National Disability & Carers Alliance is currently holding its two-day conference in Melbourne. The Alliance, comprising service agency peak body National Disability Services, Carers Australia and the Australian Federation of Disability Organisations (AFDO), is running this event to further the conversation about the proposed National Disability Insurance Scheme.

With an attendance reported to be in excess of 1000, I had imagined this might have the look and feel of a rally, like an American political convention with people wearing colourful hats and waving flags. Indeed, all the speakers appeared to give enthusiastic support for the proposed national scheme, beginning with assistant Treasurer Bill Shorten and continuing with productivity commission Patricia Scott, Parliamentary Secretary Jan McLucas, opposition spokesperson Mitch Fifield, Greens senator elect Richard Di Natale, and other enthusiastic speakers, including impressive voices from the advocacy sector such as Rosemary Crossley, Sally Richards, Damian Griffis and Stella Young.

However, it wasn't a procession of uncomplicated enthusiasm; there were plenty of people at the conference bearing the battle scars of previous policy discussions that did not deliver true and helpful change. Such scepticism is important because, although the Productivity Commission’s draft report is very encouraging, it is only a report, and the fact of its existence does not give certainty that it will become reality. Many architects have poured their hearts and souls into designs for buildings that never got built.

What is important is the message from the Productivity Commission, through Patricia Scott, that disability support should be regarded as a core responsibility of Government. This is a huge point and goes to the heart of the issue; if we believe that people living with disability have inherent value as human beings, and therefore should have access to the same opportunities as fellow citizens, then it is the core business of the government to ensure this is advanced and upheld.

Similarly, Patricia Scott noted that in the Productivity Commission's proposed model the individual person living with disability is front and centre. This is also a huge point as it is the definitive first step in formally dismantling a system of human services that, despite good intentions, has systematically depersonalised and commodified the people who come to it for assistance.

While there will continue to be a diversity of views about aspects of the proposed scheme, the nature of choice, perspectives on market forces and a host of other elements that might attract passionate debate, here is an opportunity for people in the disability community to find their common voice, for in that common voice lies perhaps the greatest hope for helpful change.

This was highlighted by Bill Shorten who declared that since his move to the portfolio of Assistant Treasurer he has lost none of his passion and anger for the issues he learned about when he was Parliamentary Secretary for disability. I am aware that, along with 999 other delegates, I missed the opportunity to ask Mr Shorten what specifically he might do in his Treasury role to help the Productivity Commission's recommendations come to fruition. Just like Charlie in the chocolate factory, Bill in the Treasury could, should, help good things to emerge.

Perhaps in anticipation of such expectations, Bill Shorten put out a three-word challenge to the delegates; discipline, perseverance and unity. The Productivity Commission completes its work in July but this is no guarantee that its recommendations will be taken up. If I read Bill Shorten’s challenge correctly, people in the disability community need to focus on the common good will that we might all see in a National Disability Insurance Scheme. Like a successful alliance during times of struggle, the focus is on the shared bigger picture, a common goal.

In which case, the most important thing right now is to build momentum, to give the big picture - a national scheme of individual funding entitlement - a life beyond the Productivity Commission. To paraphrase the plea from co-convenor Bruce Bonyhady, tell your friends. And tell them to tell theirs.

Commissioning Productive Citizens: an imaginary conversation

First, apologies for the long lay-off from the blog, which was caused by a perfect storm of annual leave, crushing deadlines and miscellaneous turbulence.  Normal service has been resumed.

The Productivity Commission released its draft report here on the future of disability care and support. The full report is two volumes of around 800 pages and reading it is a formidable task. Even the short version has novella dimensions. However, we might be encouraged by such density if it suggests there has been much sincere thinking. After all, this is a once-in-a-generation opportunity to change the way that our society supports people living with disability.

Since its release at the end of February, the draft report has excited a number of conversations, and people have the opportunity to make formal written comments to the Productivity Commission here by 30 April 2011. In addition people can have their say at the series of public hearings that the productivity commission is undertaking in the main metropolitan areas. These are happening now - click here for details.

It can be hard to know where to start in trying to unpack such a large report. One helpful way is to attempt to describe the report in 15 seconds, as though being interviewed on the street by a reporter. In which case, I would use my 15 seconds to make two points: first, the draft report acknowledges that disability support funding in Australia is profoundly inadequate and doubling-up the funding by $6 billion is a good start; and second, the report proposes a national scheme of entitlement where eligible people living with disability get individualised funding in line with their support needs. This is a very good thing.

If the imaginary reporter found my response sufficiently engaging and awarded me a bonus 45 seconds to talk about some of the main features, I would say the draft report appears to assert the scheme would operate in the context of people living good lives, as valued members of the community and as active participants in the economy, with expectations that mainstream services such as education, health, and transport would be routinely, properly, inclusive.  I would enthuse that support funding would be assessed not just on each person’s present situation but also on the future, with a focus on the person’s strengths, capacity, and vision.

I would also note the draft report says eligible people could receive their support funding in one of three main ways: as a direct payment (“cashed out”), or via a third-party brokerage agency, or via a direct relationship with their nominated support agency. All three options are typical features within the methodologies of Individualised (self directed) Funding operating elsewhere.

So in just one minute, it is possible to identify the most thrilling elements of the draft report: entitlement-based funding, designed to assist people into ordinary valued lives, and personalised via Individualised (self-directed) Funding.

At this point, my imaginary reporter, on the hunt for a ripper sound bite, might ask me what is wrong with the draft report, and to take as much time as I want, because grumpy sound bites are particularly entertaining. I would kick off with the complicated issue of whether people should pay a contribution to their disability support. In the draft report people will not be required to make an ongoing contribution to their own disability support, at least not until they reach the age of 65. This is because people accessing aged care funding are typically over the age of 65, and they are assessed for co-contribution.

I'm not entirely convinced there need be a separate funding mechanism for older people because, if you stop to think about it, the support issues for older people and those for people living with disability are similar; for example, assistance with daily tasks, access to equipment and adaptations, community transport, support to remain connected in relationships,and support to maintain participation in (and contribution to) community life. I think it might be better to have a single funding support mechanism to assist people, regardless of the cause of their circumstances.

I would note to my imaginary reporter that the name National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) is a problem.  The word insurance is not helpful , and I've said so before here. Most people's understanding of insurance is an arrangement where you pay a premium to cover the risk of something happening in the future, so that you receive assistance if it does. However the proposed NDIS will cater for people who already have their disability. Indeed, the people who will be excluded from the National disability Insurance Scheme will be those people whose disability has resulted from an insured event such as a road traffic accident, who instead will be directed to the proposed National Injury Insurance Scheme (NIIS). This parallel scheme is presumably deemed to be necessary because the states and territories have differing approaches for providing funding support for people injured in road traffic accidents etc. The Productivity Commission's draft report says that the states and territories would need to work together to link their various injury insurance arrangements into a national scheme. It will be interesting to see how that plays out in reality, and it will be particularly important that the NDIS and the NIIS have good interconnectivity so there is common best practice.  Otherwise we will create two classes of citizenhood within the disability community.

The draft report envisages the establishment of a new independent agency to run this the National Disability Insurance Scheme. I know there have been some concerns voiced about this and how it might be a vehicle for the perpetuation of unhelpful bureaucracy. However, to be fair to the Productivity Commission, I am not yet clear on what the better alternative might be.

Someone somewhere has to determine the mathematical model that underpins the generation and distribution of funds for the scheme. Someone somewhere has to determine the visionary and strategic parameters for the scheme.  Someone somewhere has to determine the operational policies and procedures that will help ensure that the scheme reflects best known practice in personalised funding and supports. Someone somewhere will need to determine and oversee how people apply for funding support. Someone somewhere will need to determine if the overall scheme is operating as it should be and the extent to which it is making a positive difference in people's lives. 

The alternative to a stand-alone new agency would be an existing federal government department, such as FaHCSIA, or federal government agency, such as Centrelink, or through a dispersed arrangement involving state and territory bodies. Each of these alternatives has its own problems. The advantage of a new stand-alone agency is that the agency can be calibrated, and the people within it recruited, to establish the culture best-suited to assisting people living with disability into ordinary valued lives.

In which case, the problem that I have is not with the idea of a new agency, but with its governance arrangements. The draft report envisages that the new agency will be governed by a board comprising people with expertise in insurance, finance, management etc. Unfortunately there is no mention of people having a lived experience of disability. While the draft report talks of a separate advisory panel where the perspectives of people living with disability, together with other stakeholders, can be channelled through to the board of the National disability Insurance Agency, this will not be good enough to ensure that the agency operates in a way that best delivers an authentic impact on people's lives. The board needs to include members who have a lived experience of disability.

If anything, the problem I have is with the proposed agency's governance arrangements. The draft report envisages the new agency be governed by a board comprising people with expertise in insurance, finance, management etc.  These are all sensible skill sets.  Unfortunately, it is an incomplete list because there is no mention of board member expertise in the lived experience of disability. While the draft report talks of a separate advisory council where the perspectives of people living with disability, together with other stakeholders, can be channelled through to the agency's board, this will not be good enough to ensure that the agency does the right thing by the disability community.  The board itself needs to include members who have a lived experience of disability.

At this point my imaginary reporter is probably interrupting me because I have not delivered the grumpy-and-entertaining sound bite, and is demanding that I sum up in less than 10 seconds the main problem with the draft report.

I would quote Wilagan's Fact, which states:

A good idea is at its most vulnerable during implementation.

In other words, the devil will be in the detail.  Have your say, leave nothing to chance.

Vale - Suzanne Carman

I've been away from work these past few weeks and will be away for a little longer so this blog has been quiet.  However I am moved to write something today to honour the memory of Suzanne Carman, who passed away on 30 December.

Coming away from Suzanne's funeral today, I suspect I was the person at the funeral service who knew Suzanne the least.  Our connections were limited to the several meetings we had together, with Suzanne in her role as Executive Director of the South Australian state government's Office of Disability and Client Services (ODACS).

As a result of these connections the Suzanne Carman that I knew was the public servant who was in charge of disability policy and procurement.  I assessed Suzanne's ODACS contributions through my own world view, without investing sufficiently to know more about Suzanne's history and motivations.

It is indeed a very dangerous thing to make assumptions about people based on limited information, for today I learned so much more about Suzanne's life.

For example, I didn't know Suzanne was from Cairns.  I didn't know that she had a fine musical ear and talent.  I didn't know about her faith.  I didn't know that as a young adult she had deferred her studies to give service to the community.  I didn't know about the remarkable range of public service roles she had undertaken in her career, clearly driven by the desire to make a contribution.  I didn't know she had become a grandmother.

I only wish I had discovered these things while Suzanne was alive.

From the celebrant's words at the service today, it is clear to me that Suzanne wanted to leave a message of love and acceptance.  For me, these values lie at the heart of social inclusion and in advocating for better lives for people with greater vulnerability.   

But what I also think I have learned, or re-learned, today is that the same values need to apply in all such dealings, with those whom we seek to influence and with those who have different histories and perspectives. 

Thank you, Suzanne, and I wish I had taken the time to get to know you better.

Rest well.

Australia's Apart-hood

This week in South Australia the media has reported the difficulties that many South Australians living with disability encounter when trying to book an accessible taxi, especially at peak times such as Christmas.  The debate has now extended to include problems of finding enough accessible car parking.

At JFA we support the concerns that have been raised in the media by people living with disability, whose experience has all the hallmarks of apartheid, however unintended.  When apartheid was in place in South Africa, many people and governments around the world condemned it and contributed to the forces for change. This was because specific members of the community – black people - were not being given the same opportunities as other citizens. Why should we not react the same way to the current experiences of Australians living with disability?

Our view is that there should be a determined, systematic effort to ensure that all taxis are accessible, because everyone benefits from universal access.    Of course,this goes way beyond taxis and other public transport like buses.  It applies to every community building and open space that is there for the public.  It is not as hard as people might think to make our communities accessible  It starts with each of us being determined to see it happen.

For your interest, here follows an updated version of the article I wrote in the April 2009 edition of national disability magazine Link.

Australia's Aparthood (revisited)

I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve.

Hard to dispute, these words were spoken 48 years ago by Nelson Mandela responding to charges of treason and sabotage on the first day of his trial in South Africa.  Mandela was clear that he would not tolerate white domination, any more than he would tolerate black domination.  In pursuit of his ideal, Nelson Mandela spent the next 27 years in prison - truly an exercise in patience and determination.  

In the four years after his release in 1990, apartheid was dismantled.  These historic moments heralded the end of the blatant discrimination led by the South African government against black people.  The world breathed a sigh of relief as apartheid was finally vanquished.

As it is commonly understood, apartheid was a system of racial segregation that was enforced by the South African government shortly after the end of the second world war until the mid-1990s.  It is no accident that the word apartheid contains the word ‘apart’.  It is a Dutch/Afrikaans word meaning separation.  Translated literally into English, it means ‘apart-hood’.   

Much of the world outside South Africa recognised this for what it was: outrageous, unjustified discrimination and separation of people based on a particular characteristic (their skin colour). Its long overdue demise was universally celebrated. But is apartheid – aparthood –actually consigned to history?  

Consider the experience of people living with disability in Australia. Depending on the degree of a person’s support needs, he or she might have little choice other than to live in certain places, such as group homes with other people also living with disability.  Many children and young people living with disability may be directed towards a different, separate education, rather than having the genuine option of attending their local neighbourhood school.  People living with disability are under-represented in the Australian workplace, and many work in separate, ‘sheltered’ workplaces where the majority of their workmates are also people living with disability.  

In Australia, it is harder for people with disability to use public transport.  For example, in South Australia, there are well over a thousand taxis but less than 100 of these are accessible to people using wheelchairs. I can imagine the uproar if South Australia set aside a small number of ‘special’ taxis for women, or for black people, and they weren’t able to access the others.

Often people using wheelchairs are treated differently, and often shabbily, when they want to travel on buses, trains and planes. Many community venues are inaccessible to people living with disability, which denies them the chance to participate in recreation, education and other opportunities.  People living with disability have to use separate restrooms – if they’re lucky enough to find one that is actually accessible. 

We need to recognise that these arrangements have a lot in common with the practice of apartheid in South Africa.  Here in Australia, there is a group of people who, because of a particular characteristic (disability), are directed to special arrangements that tend to separate them from the rest of society, in housing, education, work, transport; and recreation. . As a matter of course, however well-intentioned, people living with disability have been set apart from the rest of the community. Aparthood is apartheid.

For many people living with disability, this enforced separateness is a prison where the bars are created by the negative attitudes of others and by inaccessible communities, and where each day's activities are about as meaningful as a prisoner breaking rocks. 

Aparthood was unacceptable, abominable and inhuman in South Africa. Why should it be regarded any less so here?  

At the moment, the Australian Government is putting the finishing touches to a national disability strategy, and its Productivity Commission is considering the future of disability support arrangements, as is the South Australia Social Inclusion Board.  . It is up to all of us to do what we can to ensure that the completed strategies genuinely address the underlying wrongness of our current disability support arrangements, rather than trying to patch-fix the existing system.

 

Key to this is the insistence that people living with disability enjoy equal access of opportunity, free from discrimination. It is the right thing to do. As a community we need to take action collectively.  Otherwise, like Nelson Mandela after his conviction in 1964, the Australian disability community will be breaking rocks in prison for a very long time.

imagine getting real

In a recent blog posting I talked about the problematic nature of congregate supports.  Among other comments, I received one from a parent, Ronni, who said this:

“Yes Robbi you are missing something. You have not asked those dedicated parents who provide the day to day care for the severely disabled. As much as we love our children we will wear out eventually and like you we deserve a holiday occasionally. Congregate living is an economic reality and does not have to be a bad thing per se ala http://www.camphill.ie/What-is-Camphill-p-6.html.
You harp on about what the rest of us would choose. Well my son is not like you or I. He is a very sociable being and will never be able to use technology to communicate - he needs 24/7 care and face to face interaction. I cannot provide this for the rest of his life and nor should I be expected to. Time to leave cloud cuckoo land. If you want a taste of reality you are welcome to come stay at my place for a month. You would learn the full meaning of compromise because your life would certainly change!”

I am very grateful to Ronni for taking the time to comment, and I’ve placed the comment into this new blog posting because I wanted to make sure people didn’t miss it - Ronni’s comment raises important points and made me stop and think.  In essence, Ronni’s challenge to me is to get real.

I am not a parent of a disabled child so I do not have the experience that Ronni and other parents have.  What I can understand is that many parents provide extensive and unremitting day-to-day support for their disabled son or daughter, and that over time this can lead to parents wanting to consider other ways that their family member can be supported.  

I talk a lot about personalised, individualised, socially inclusive options, and I much prefer these to congregate options.  This is because I have seen many services in many countries over the years, and the better services have typically involved people being supported in highly personalised ways within community (and not necessarily with a high price tag on the support). 

I realise that such options are not always available in every location.  Meanwhile, parents will want to choose the best option available for their son or daughter.  Ronni directs me to a website about the Camphill communities.  I have had past involvement with Camphill communities, and to a lesser extent L’Arche, and I recall an ambience characterised by a welcoming, family atmosphere and a culture of acceptance and contribution.  

Interestingly, the Camphill movement emerged at a time, in the late 1930s, when large scale congregate services were the main service option for vulnerable people who could not be supported at home.  By contrast, Camphill’s message was about the innate potential of people and how this might be nurtured.  The message is about the inherent worth of each person as a unique being.

What such endeavours appear to have in common is a deep respect for people living with disability, a commitment to live by family/community/spiritual values and a desire to support people to reach their potential.  I can see how such services will appear attractive and practical.  If I was a parent of a child living with disability and I needed another way for my son/daughter to be supported, I would want the best option available; if it were true there were no individualised options available or conceivable, then I can imagine I might seek more information about a setting like a Camphill community.

Unfortunately, because of the general history of service provision, augmented by the habits of government funding in many jurisdictions, most congregate services do not adequately reflect each person’s uniqueness, and instead people are installed into pre-ordained service programs and settings.  I have spent many years working with, or with the consequences of, congregate services.  From these experiences, I believe the best, most personalised, congregate services are still not as good as the best, most personalised, community-based services I’ve seen. 

I am also convinced, from my own experiences and from what has been reported, that vulnerable people (including people living with severe disability, people living with enduring mental illness, and frail older people) are at the greatest risk of neglect and abuse when they are placed in settings that render them separate from, and invisible to, the wider community.

Our work at JFA has been about trying to find, or imagine, better supports for people living with disability than those currently available.  As part of this work, I have been involved in, or otherwise seen, arrangements where a person living with severe disability is being well-supported without having to use congregated settings.  Such opportunities are not yet available in all locations but we can hope that one day soon they will be, so that there is authentic choice.   What is true is that there are plenty of examples available of how a person living with severe disability can be well-supported in highly individualised ways, so the only things that are stopping any jurisdiction, any community, from creating such choices is a lack of imagination and a lack of determination.

In the meantime, I can understand any parent being sceptical about the possibility of such arrangements, given the current reality of daily life.   Therefore, I think one of the issues for us as a community is that many people living with disability, and many parents, and many professionals, may not be aware of some of the promising and progressive advances that have been demonstrated in individualised supports.  Further, it seems to me vitally important that family members do have good information about such possibilities before making a decision about future support arrangements for a dependent loved-one.

At JFA we hope to illuminate more of these helpful advances.  Building on the well-received workshops we hosted in 2010, we are currently planning a number of events for 2011 that will provide greater visibility for some of these developments, and hopefully will provide useful material to people living with disability, the family members involved in their lives, and professionals.  

The reason we do this is because we want to help ensure that people and families are supported to get information about the progress here and elsewhere and how it shows what might be possible in people’s lives.  Otherwise, many people may find themselves making big decisions in the absence of such information.  It falls to all of us to do what we can to make sure that people living with disability, and the families involved in their lives, are assisted to assess, and access, the best possible options for support.

An increasing number of families are writing books about their discovery of such options and the resulting positive impact in the life of their family member.  For anyone interested, we have some titles available for loan from our office.  And if you have been inspired by someone’s book about what has been possible in their own life or that of a loved one, then let us know and if we don't have that title we’ll track down copies for people to loan.

In conclusion, I do not set out to dispute the role of families who are in the lives of dependent family members living with disability, or to criticise the decisions they might make about the support arrangements for their loved one, or indeed the choices that a person living with disaiblity might make for herself or himself.  Instead I hope that I can make my contribution to ensuring that people have better information about what might be possible, and where such options authentically safeguard that person's value as a human being, and uphold and advance the person's uniqueness and potential.

Entertainment Value

TheSuperheroes

While overseas recently I got the chance to watch a couple of bands at a gig in Glasgow.  First up were TheSuperheroes, whose members include both disabled and non-disabled people.  All band members played instruments, and these guys rocked.  They are still building their songlist, so their set was frustratingly brief but very impressive.

TheSuperheroes

They were followed by Mixit, an ensemble of singers who bill themselves as the world’s first inclusive pop group.  Mixit has developed a more extensive set of songs, backed up by some well-choreographed dance moves.

Both acts were highly entertaining, and reflected a good measure of accomplishment for all involved.

The troubling part for me was that this gig was played to an audience largely comprising people living with disability and their supporters.   

As such, it felt like another exercise in separateness and invisibility.  That said, all I had was a single glimpse into the lives of these two acts - one gig in one venue.  

Mixit

So, mindful that I haven’t seen their performances elsewhere, here’s how I hope things are.  I hope that Mixit and TheSuperheroes each have a band manager who is seeking out gigs for them at mainstream venues, in front of mainstream audiences, supporting (or being supported by) mainstream acts.   

  

I hope that both acts build a loyal mainstream following as a result of their musicianship rather than out of any sense of charity.  I hope that each band member has an authentic valued role to play in the band’s overall performance, so that each person’s participation does not come across as tokenistic or ‘pretend’. 

Mixit

Mixit have cut a DVD, I watched it for the first time today, and I really enjoyed it, for a number of reasons.  First, the production values are good.  By this I mean that the DVD looks and feels very professional, providing a documentary-style insight into the lives and songs of authentic performers.  Second, the personality of the band members really comes across in the DVD, and the way the DVD has been editied accentuates the valued role of each band member.  Third, there has been thoughtful attention to the band’s overall look (check out their stage gear) and to the choreography.  Fourth, these guys have certainly got out and about, because part of their material was shot in France. Finally, I enjoyed the DVD becuase it is highly entertaining, which after all is the point of DVDs.

I should mention as an aside here that in the DVD, one of the band members notes how he has been able to use some of his Individualised Funding to provide him with personal support while he is on tour.  How cool that is.

I encourage you to go visit Mixit’s website at http://www.mixitmusic.co.uk/ and you can hear TheSuperheroes perform the really quite impressive track Milky Way at http://www.myspace.com/thesuperheroesband

Imagine if, Imagine how, Imagine when

Mindful that a number of the over 2,500 readers of this blog will have previously reflected on the issue of group living, I think it important to regularly reflect on its problematic nature. So stay with me on this, and do post your comments if I’m missing something here.

The problem with congregated support is that the very nature of it makes it much harder to achieve authentic choice for people, and much harder to engage in community life in natural ways. No matter how a support agency might try to dress it up as a service model steeped in choice and inclusion (and having run several support agencies in different countries where congregate support was a feature of at least some of our services, I have done my fair share of such self-deception) the fact is that when a bunch of people are required to live together there are inevitable compromises.  Sometimes in life, such compromise is freely entered into.  For example, many of us might have experienced shared living (and therefore a commitment to compromise) at various points in our lives, be it with family, with co-students, with flatmates, with partners.  However, we do not typically make longer term decisions to live with people we didn’t know previously or without a deeper mutual commitment to share our lives.  

If such imposed compromise of shared living weren’t enough, group homes have an extra constraint – the staffing arrangements.  Most of us don’t have a procession of people coming through our daily lives who are paid to be there, and for whom our homes represent their workplaces.  And most of us don’t have our daily choices shaped (and curtailed) by the relative availability of paid support staff, which is the inevitable consequence when there are less staff than people being supported.  The fact that the paid support staff have to share their efforts across a number of people means that some choices cannot be entertained because  a staff person cannot be in more than one place at a time.

Why on earth might we think that such arrangements are acceptable?  After all, for those of us who don’t live in such constricted arrangements, we are unlikely to nominate such arrangements as our first choice should our circumstances change.  Why do we persist in making congregate support the main way by which we support vulnerable people?   

One answer, the easiest answer to come up with, is money, or rather the lack of it.  Issues of recurrent funding for support is an oft-cited reason given by jurisdictions for placing vulnerable people in shared living arrangements, be it a group home, nursing home, or other ‘supported residential facility’.  In my 25 years working alongside vulnerable people, I can’t ever recall a meeting between government and support agencies where the issue of funding didn’t come up. When we focus primarily on the issue of funding, we are making a fundamental mistake.  Funding is not the main barrier lying between vulnerable people and a good life.  A much larger issue that is stopping us from assisting vulnerable people into lives of choice and citizenhood is a lack of imagination.  When presented with the challenge of supporting vulnerable people into rich lives, and with funding that seems modest, our typical solution is to group people together.  This is profoundly unimaginative, so much so that it works against the values of choice and inclusion that most support agencies are meant to be subscribing to, and which characterise the personal standards that most of us set in our own lives.  

If we authentically subscribe to the values of choice and inclusion, then funding levels need present no barrier.  I have recently visited with agencies, in both urban and rural areas, who are accomplishing highly effective individualised supports, without congregate living, and without congregate doing, and without rich seams of public funding.  

Among other things, what such agencies have in common is an unshakeable commitment to choice and inclusion, the capacity to imagine how this might be achieved despite the dramas of public funding, and the gumption to take action now. 

I believe that there are many support agencies who have a sincere desire to be helpful in the lives of vulnerable people, and will happily subscribe to the values of choice and inclusion.  Yet those same agencies often report they are constrained in their efforts by what the public funder is prepared to pay for. In which case, I strongly encourage those agencies to take a deeper look at the meaning of choice and inclusion, and how these can be achieved in ways that are uncomplicated by group responses.

I am very happy to talk more with any support agency interested in exploring now they might become more imaginative in supporting vulnerable people into rich lives of choice and citizenhood.