To the Teachers of the Next

 

To the teachers of the next- a spoken word written for the teachers of the next generation of young people with Dwarfism.

To the Teachers of the next,

You need to hear me out. Now, my anger is not with you so I’ll try not to shout. 

But hear me when I say, I’ve longed for this day- the day someone listens to what I have to say. Because I’ve been there and I know, more than most do- but I’m not the one with the power- that lies with you. 

I get that it’s scary- and you have targets to meet. But imagine how scary it is when you can’t reach your seat. Your peg. Your bag. The dinner hall chair- believe me it sucks because I’ve been there. 

I was too young back then, I couldn’t speak my mind. But I see it now because I’ve served my time: 

I learned the hard way. I hurt and I bled. 

But there can be purpose to the tears that I shed.

 

Learn from the past. Take what I say. Give them a path that shows them the way. 

The way to a world where they can be who they are.

Where the only limit they see is the sky and the stars.

It’s in what you do. Not just what you say. Because if you’re not committed to learn- trust that I’m not leading your way. 

This isn’t a tick box. The responsibility won’t stop. After an Ofsted inspection or when your marks meet the top. 

Don’t do it because it’s a ‘given’. Do it with care- because without that- believe that we won’t get anywhere. 

This journey ahead- is one I’ve walked for miles, it’ll continue for us but only be yours for a while. Make the impact you have, make you the one they remember. 

Do it with love. Not as a favour. To your representation- or the marks on a sheet. Because at the end of the day- you can still reach your seat. 

So with the kindest regards I’ll leave the rest up to you- if you call for my service trust that I’ll follow through. 

But understand that I’ve already picked up my own heart- so don’t let history repeat. See harm has been done but you can set the next standards to meet. 

Be the adult that I needed.  Because we won’t have to fix what ain’t broke. Be the light that I needed. Lead the next- onto hope. 

It’s not me.

They say you’re only dealt what you can handle, but what happens when what you’re trying to handle is you. 

Trying to understand a body that doesn’t know what to do. 

In a body of 5. A soul two decades older. 

A tiny rock, in a world full of boulders. 

To you I’m the problem. The one that doesn’t fit in. But let it be known I’ve lived my whole life in this skin. I knew my body before I knew yours. If this isn’t normal- than what is I can’t be sure. 

Is it measured in numbers, if so then 60 made me lose. Because that’s the only thing that separates me from you. 60 c m that’s all it took. If it was roles reverse would you let me off the hook? 

See I know I was given the wrong body. Because my soul speaks fire- wanting things beyond even the 6ft desires. I wasn’t meant to be given a body so despaired- not when the soul it houses wouldn’t harm so much as a hair. 

If you met me blindfolded I think we’d be friends- but your sight is what blinds you, and causes harm in the end. You see it before me. I hear laughs before my own name- yet in this world we live in, discrimination is just a game. 

Now it’s my responsibility, to grow thick skin, hang on- I couldn’t even grow full stop. Now let that sink in. 

Think how it feels to at the age of 7 just stop. And watch all of your friends come out on top. 17 years I’ve had to learn to be small. In a body that wishes it could do it all. 

That’s how I know I was dealt the wrong card. Because when you give this much. It shouldn’t be this hard.  It’s not me that was meant to put up this guard. I was the one that was supposed to go far. 

I was supposed to climb to the top. And by that I don’t mean the shelves in the shop. The hurdles weren’t supposed to be in the form of the simple. Some days I can’t understand it- not even a little. 

Why it was me out of the 7 billion that ended up being a fluke. For decades this world believed I belonged in a zoo.

Those that came before me, fought through the circus and shows: but some days the streets still tell me that’s where to go. Understand I’m more qualified now before age 25- than some may see all the days their alive. 

No this body was not meant to be mine. But being different here isn’t the crime. So I’ll cry, scream and curse till no voice is left to hear- but no anger or frustration will make this disappear. 

So we’ll go about it. You do you. I’ll do me. 

Probably not meeting again in any of the places we see. And I’ll fight each day to overcome this trouble whilst the world around me still lives in a bubble. 

A bubble where normal means we look the same. Where the person is known more by their hair colour than even their name. 

See it’s not me, that’s adding gas to the flames, because discrimination to me, ain’t no game. 

It wasn’t meant to be mine but this body you see- is not the problem, and the problem is not me. 

Just a word. Until it’s not.

 ‘When a word becomes a label….’

I’m usually one to stay quiet but I also know what I stand for, and abusive, hurtful comments ain’t it. 

Please take time to listen. And understand. It’s been one hell of a week. But I will never lose hope that education will win.

❤️

We can’t act like it’s over.

 

Dwarfism Awareness Month falls on one month. 31 days we get trending. But then like most things, it falls under the surface again… but how many of you, who have shared our photos, retweeted our hashtags… or even brought my book. How many of you have a plan. A plan on what to do next. What to do when tomorrow comes, and everyone else has forgotten what we spent October fighting for. How many of you, have used this awareness month to really become aware?

 

Aware of how you could help to reach something off a shelf next time you see us in a shop. Aware how the language you use can help reform the opinions others form on us…. how you could help educate someone else… by sharing what you know… that’s if you really listened. Aware of how by starting a conversation you could have a ripple effect. 

 

Are you aware of how much you’re needed. Needed, to make any of what we did this month really matter at all. 

Dwarfism Awareness Month is over. But for 7,000 of us in the UK, it’s October every day in our world- everyday that we come across someone who’s never seen one of us before. Every day we enter a building we know is out of our reach. Every day that we live in a world where science hasn’t figured us out yet- and society still loves to laugh and joke.

 

Until there’s a day, where October isn’t needed- that’s how long we need you. 

 

So…. What’s your plan. 

Dwarfism- a whatever fits style; Collab with Chamiah Dewey Fashion

Since I can remember, clothing has always been one of the hardest things I associate with my condition, and something which in my teen years especially, was a pinpoint to my insecurities. Being 22 years old, in a body built for a 6-year-old, it's fair to say I am past the days of flashing trainers and pink tights. 

 

But to find something out of that range without going down the root of tailor-made items, which I think my student bank account would be mortified at- is well.... hard. As is the feeling that you're missing out. Girlie shopping days don't have the same feeling when you know you can't just pick something off a shelf. 

 

My condition is Achondroplasia- the most common form of Dwarfism. Achondroplasia affects bone growth- particularly in limbs. Meaning we have short arms and legs (particularly short upper arms and thighs), that being said, my torso is as near to average, so t-shirts, hoodies etc... whilst often looking very oversized, can sometimes be gotten away with... that is if they don't have sleeves. 

 

Sleeves are a no go. 

16.12.18

 15.12.18- 1pm- "My headache isn't shifting, I'm going to go lie down."

15.12.18- 10pm- "Did I really sleep that long? I feel awful. Mum, I can't see properly."

16.12.18- 1am- **First round of blood tests at the Emergency department**

It was that fast. And in many ways it feels like a blur- I don't remember what was said. I don't really remember what happened. But I remember exactly how I felt. 

Not what I had in mind

And just like that.... 3 years done. 

A journey that felt like it was over in a blink… but also one I feel I have traveled for a lifetime. My BAhons degree in Youth and Community Work, complete.

It’s fair to say the finishing of this journey, represents how the whole road has been…. “Not what I had in mind.

I never thought for one moment I would be graduating in the mist of a pandemic with the only moments of celebration with friends, shared through a phone screen.

MY FIRST BLOG POST- 2014 Flashback

My very first blog post; written 2nd May 2014.
Growing up without being able to grow. 

Teenage life is never easy but living in a world built for people twice my size brings extra challenges. My form of dwarfism Achondroplasia means that at just 3ft 11, I am much shorter than my friends, family and classmates.  It wasn't till I was reaching the end of my second year in primary school that I started to notice the extent of the size difference between myself and my classmates. As they grew it was becoming apparent that I wasn't. I remember going home asking my mum why. As you can imagine it was a hard question to answer for my mum and like any six year old, I wasn't quite sure what I was being told. No matter how many times I got told, no matter how many times it was explained, it never quite sunk in. Why was I different? And why was no one else different? By the time I reached the age of 9, I was well aware of my size and my condition however it was something that never got mentioned, even in my family it wasn't something that got talked about, In a way, I saw that as a positive. My family saw me as me and so did my friends but as my time at primary school was coming to an end, I started to wonder what people like me were going through. Did people like me even exist? 

21 life lessons in my 21 years

1. Not everyone you meet is going to treat you nicely. But that should never stop you from being nice. You never know, it might rub off on them, and if not, it says more about them than it does you. 

2. Life will always throw spanners in the works; usually, just at the moment you feel your masterpiece is coming together. But just like you have done a thousand times before; you'll work this out too. 

Bitter VS Better

From a young age, I have clear memories of being shamed for my body image and size. From the innocence of my reception classmates saying I “looked funny”..... to the 15-year-olds shouting “freak” down the secondary school corridors. Be it right or not, I guess you can say “I’m used to it”, so more times than not I brush it off... cold shoulder, because frankly there are not enough hours in the day to give attention to every person who stares at you as you walk down the street, I’ve mastered the brave face. But that doesn’t mean I always want to use it. I don't always want to say I'm used to it...

Mastering the basics- The reality of being a little person in lockdown.

When lockdown began, I knew many challenges laid ahead. There I was with a degree to finish, a dissertation to write, a job which now needed to take place from home.... and all whilst being in a different country (technically) from my family. The first few days felt like a whirlwind as I’m sure it did for many, this was all new, what was I supposed to do? And more than that.... how the hell was I supposed to feel? 

I tried to build myself a routine, started to find my feet but often a few days into feeling organised I’d lose my mojo and be back to the beginning again, I guess that’s how lockdown emotions work, somedays you feel like you have it all together, and others.... well..... you’re lost. Lost in this whirlwind of uncertainly.

For all the reasons mentioned above, I knew lockdown was going to be tough. But before I could even comprehend facing my degree. Before I even thought about opening a textbook. Before I could even think about trying to thrive in this newfound environment we had found ourselves in... I had to learn the basics.

It’s so important to talk! Bullying awareness

I get it. It’s hard. But talking can and does help. No one is in this alone. Reach out to those around you and lighten your load... I promise, in time, your path will become clear again.

COVID-19; A change in plan.

March started off so exciting and positively overwhelming for me, I handed in my last academic essay of my degree; finally, after three years the end was in sight. I was finding my feet within my first contracted job role, loving getting stuck in and exploring how I could contribute to the growth of our organisation; and then of course, the big one.... masters... I made the decision to apply for my master's degree, something which a year ago was never on my radar. I decided that my life in Wales was not something I wanted to pack up and leave just yet, and my journey at USW wasn’t ready to be over. So I applied.... and I got in.

I was starting to have a plan. For the first time in a long time, I was starting to look beyond the next 3 months. I had aborted the idea of rushing back to my home comforts at the end of my degree, and I was beginning to shape life as I wanted.

Thursday 12th March; I got my official offer to study my MA degree in Working for children and families.

A week later: The UK confirms lockdown.

Wait. What?

Back it up a minute. This wasn’t part of the plan.

To the girl who’s moving away.... the things I wish I heard someone say.

To the girl who’s moving away...... (The things I wish I heard someone say.)

This is your story now. Every day will be new to anything you’ve known before. And for sure every day will be different alright! Some days you’re gonna feel independent, strong and loved and other days you’ll feel forgotten and confused!

Nobody’s told you how emotionally and physically hard this process is, even though nobody is telling you it’s easy either. Everyone is so excited for you. You’re being reminded constantly how this is such a big decision, and you made it. But that doesn’t make the pain any less. You choosing to walk away doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to cry when you leave. 

The phone calls, texts, Facebook posts, and FaceTime calls... they can only do so much on the days you’ll need advice, the days you crave a hug, or you just need someone to vent to. You’ll miss their smell. Their voice. Some days you’ll worry that you’re forgetting all of that.... and on the days they don’t call, you’ll wonder if perhaps they’re living happily without you. Perhaps that they’re forgetting too.

All the birthdays, and holidays you miss, and the photos you follow that you aren’t in... you may click, but inside you’ll resent them. You’ll look at it over and over. Imagining how different the picture could be if you were in it too. Imagining how different the bigger picture would be too.... if only you were there... Some days you’ll wish you could drop everything and go back. And others you’ll wish they’d come to you. You’ll wish you could just run home, you’ll wish you could hug your best friend, your family... even your dog, but that this time you’ll have no time limit to how long it can last. You wish your mum would lecture you time after time again about the things you once moaned about.... and that your friends would have a sleepover with you... or even just sit in silence over a coffee... because it wouldn’t matter what you did..... Just that you were just present.

Being the dancer with a difference

Dance was always something I loved. For as long as I could remember I always recall dance being part of my life. I was a quirky, fun-loving child, and I loved being part of my after-school dance club, taking part in multiple showcases and competitions. I wasn’t really aware of my difference back then, I was just having fun, doing something that I loved to do.

But when secondary school hit, my love for dance was pushed aside and replaced by insecurities. Due to my dwarfism, the size difference between me and my peers was far more apparent than what it had been before, and as I became older, the dance moves I was being taught got more and more complex. I was falling behind, I didn’t feel very good at it anymore. Suddenly the thing I loved to do, was becoming something that instead was making me feel rather lame about myself. The world isn’t always kind when you’re different. Society has expectations of how we should look, and when you don’t reach those expectations sometimes the reaction of others is a bitter one. It was this, that took dance away from me, the words hurt too much to outweigh the passion, and the thought of all eyes on me on the stage, gave me a feeling of fear, not fun.

I travelled to London ON MY OWN.... AND DID WHAT?

Being 3ft 11, public transport has never been my best friend- from not being able to reach the ticket machines to jumping 5.5 miles to reach the train platform, the strain it puts on my body means it's not something I love doing, even more so as it often forces me to do my least favorite thing in the world..... ASK FOR HELP. So public transport where possible has always been a no-no!

However, since moving away from home, public transport has become more of a necessity, it's how I get home. But necessity or not, it's not my favorite thing, far from it, especially when I have no one else to rely on.... so..... this may come as a bit of a surprise when I say..... I TRAVELLED TO LONDON. ON MY OWN.

Surprised? Yeah....me too...

It started when I got a message on my blog, explaining about a project taking place at the London College of Fashion- promoting an adjustable clothing range, which they needed a little person to model for. OK SO LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT. Firstly YOU WANT ME TO MODEL. Secondly... IN LONDON, YOU WANT ME TO MODEL IN LONDON. ON MY OWN? ME? A MODEL? NOPE.

It isn't built for me..

Ever wondered what it's like down here? Ever thought about how the way I see the world may be different from you? Ever considered that how I see the room may look completely different to you... even if what we're looking at is the same? 

2019 in a nutshell....

2019 has undoubtedly been the biggest year ever!

G-Expressions...... A whole new adventure!

Written for www.g-expressions.co.uk

Hey! I'm Danielle and I'm Creative Arts Assistant for G-Expressions. My role means I support both the dance and drama elements of G-Expressions. Despite only being in the role for a couple of months, my journey with G-Expressions began way before then.

So let me take you way back to the beginning..... 

"We need to get you to the hospital"......

As my first Christmas in Newport approached, I imagined it being full of many views..... however, this was never supposed to be one of them. 

'We need to get you to the hospital' A sentence I've heard many times before, but never like this, never here. The machines, the jargon, the scans... I'd done it all before. But this time, I had to do it 50 miles away from home, in a city I'm still learning to know.