Say Hello, Wave Goodbye

Now we are into September, my retirement date is looming and this feels like the final countdown.

I have been lucky enough to have had the support of a coach through what feels like one of the most significant transitions of my life, so far.

After, a lifetime of emphasising the importance of well-planned and managed transitions for autistic people, I was at serious risk of not realising that I also needed to plan and to address the psychological and emotional impact of moving on from a long career.

It’s not all lunches and reminiscing and fond farewells, there is a fair amount of emotional challenge and unresolved issues which, over the last few months, hasn’t always led me to behave well. There have also been those who have wanted to take advantage of my departure to have a final, frank exchange of views. Fair enough. My skin is, indeed, thick, but it still smarts a bit!

Transitions, eh? We know and have known for some time what the right things to do are, autistic people and their families have told us what they need. Yet, we still have a lack of any tangible planning to make the transition from the unacceptable situation we are in with services and support, to something better and fit for purpose.

In previous blogs, I have spoken about some of the systemic and societal barriers that seem stubbornly omnipresent, I am not going to revisit them here. Rather, I am going to ask you to join me in an exercise (assigned by the aforementioned coach) that I have found extremely helpful.

As part of the process of transition, I have been asked what I am saying “yes” to and what am I saying “no” to in my near future. Since my plans are initially for retirement light, (I know myself well enough to know that a move to full retirement won’t work for me), it has forced me to think about the elements of being part of this movement for change that I want to keep, and those that I need to let go of. Don’t worry, I am not going to make a big list here, but it struck me that perhaps as a community, a movement, whatever it is you feel part of, that it might serve us better if we collectively said “no” more often to short term funding, diagnosis, lack of appropriate education and support, the list goes on.

But how? How do we resit and challenge what feel like an onslaught of cuts, undervaluing and dehumanising decision making? The tools at our disposal such as campaigning and influencing do create change, but it is glacial. Engaging politicians and influencing can work, but people come and go. We participate in consultations and make ourselves heard, but we deserve better to be the current flavour of the month or to form part of a programme for government which, grateful as we are, is always going to be short term. However, none of this means we should stop trying, it is all we can do.

So, whilst, I can’t say “yes” or “no” in any substantive way in relation to the big challenges, I can, on a personal level decide on how, I  now make a contribution. It’s an interesting exercise, grab a pen and paper and give it a try.

As I say “hello” to a different lifestyle, I am waving goodbye to a not unsubstantial level of privilege that, having the job, I do has afforded me. It has enabled me to engage directly with decision makers and politicians. It has taken me into networks of people who have shaped autism research and practice, and it has enabled me to have a platform that I have tried to use to advance rights, services, and knowledge. It has given me the opportunity to speak with and get to know many autistic people, here in Scotland and across Europe.

Those are privileges that I have never taken for granted. I don’t know yet if I will miss them, maybe, but what I do know is there are many autistic and non-autistic activists, professionals and campaigners who will continue to work for the change that is so urgently needed and that we should all reasonably expect.

Meanwhile, I am planning on chipping away on a less grand scale, more of which in next month’s blog….