21st Century thanks!

We spent a fun, and slightly intimidating half hour in a Victorian classroom yesterday.  We were at the museum of Childhood in Sudbury; a fun place, made slightly scary by the fact that my childhood toys are now in display cases!

We sat there squeezed into old wooden desks and benches with a slate and charcoal while the teacher harangued us for various things.  I got told to get up earlier to plait my hair, one woman got sympathy as she had obviously been made to work until her fingers bled (she had nail varnish on). 'Have you never heard of Carbolic?' she raged at the man with the growing in beard and 'a boy with a ring?!' was thrown at Murray.

When asked to write, we had to hold up our implements and those using their left hand were suitably addressed.  (You were only allowed to write with your right hand in those days).  She decided however that as it was still the holidays she would allow this travesty - 'just this once!'  Now, at this point I began to worry somewhat.  Imogen had chosen to sit apart from us, not far away, within sight and shouting distance, but definitely out of arms length.  She had already managed to climb through the chimney - which I was very proud of her for doing, somehow she even managed to turn herself round inside and comedown the slope at the end feet first!  But I did wonder what she would have said to the teacher if she had tried to make her use her right arm, and also how I would have reacted as her Mum.  Would I have jumped up and protected her?  Would I have observed to see how Immi coped?  I'm very thankful it never got that far as the mix of hemiplegia and ASD probably would not have been helpful!

As the teacher started telling the class how blessed they were to be getting an education and how if they didn't obey immediately they would be in danger down the mines or in the mills when they started work, I drifted off and started to think about how limited Imogen would have been in that era, she would have probably been humiliated at school (if she had even been sent), her labels would have probably been very different ones and definitely more derogatory. Her prospects of work would have been very limited if there had been any at all - not good in a mill as crawling and nimble fingers are not her forte, not a great seamstress or laundress or maid....I guess her only hope would have been the advice given by the teacher, to find a wealthy husband!

The teacher was actually very kind to the kids.  Adults got told off for starting their writing early, but Imogen was overlooked as she, obviously trying to do it well, started before we were told. And as Ma'am went round picking on the adults for their scruffy handwriting my heart was in my throat as she looked at Imogen's slate....what was she going to say? How would she react?  I knew at best there would be some barely legible scratchy scrawl, but I could have kissed that stiff backed National Trust worker when she praised her and told her how beautiful it was!

I was thankful to come out unscathed, and even more thankful that Imogen came out happy.  But most of all I am thankful that she is born in a time when there is understanding, and help for people who have to struggle to achieve what others do easily.  When there is a medical profession that has more understanding of how to help many disabilities and diseases than ever before.  When there is technology that has developed aides to help physically with many tasks and with communication so that people who struggle with writing almost have no need to do so anymore, and people all around the world can share their expertise quickly and easily to develop products faster.  I know there is a lot to be sad about in the world; a lot of injustice, a lot of evil, a lot of unkindness, but there is also a lot to be thankful for  and I for one, choose the path of thankfulness.