The greatest thing about Be. Accessible is that it really is the perfect execution of what I’d hoped to create with this site, Walking is Overrated. And I feel incredibly honoured to have been able to work with Minnie Baragwanath, Qiujing Wong and the rest of the Be. Team to make it a reality!

Anyway, if you haven’t heard of Be. Accessible, check out the website at www.beaccessible.org.nz.

I’m sure you’ll agree it’s awesome.

From November 21-29, I was one of the very fortunate 300 young people to take part in this amazing, once-in-a-lifetime event in a place I have always wanted to travel to – incredible India. First, let me explain what the programme is all about. Back in February, on my eighteenth birthday in fact, I applied to be part of the Oxfam International Youth Partnerships (OIYP) 2010-13 cycle, which is a programme run by Oxfam Australia involving social change and human rights of various kinds. The goal is to bring 300 young people from all over the world together to create a force for positive change over the next three years. While some are involved in gay rights, women’s rights, climate change and so on, I am involved in disability rights. Kaleidoscope, so-called because of the diversity of the people involved, was the bringing together of the 300 “Action Partners” chosen to participate in the programme, which has been going since 2000. This time was the first time it was held outside its Australian origins, and what an incredible experience it was. An experience I decided to do completely independently; no support person or personal assistant. I rolled solo.

When I told people this before I went, they looked at me as if I was insane and said things like “You’re going to India, BY YOURSELF?”

“Yes,” I replied casually, “Why not? It’s a place I’ve always wanted to go. I may as well take the step and do it alone. Not that I’ll be alone… there’ll be hundreds of other young people to keep me company.”

To be fair, I could see why they were shocked. It was a big risk for me to take and I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage. But here I am, home, jetlagged, safe, well and missing India and all the amazing people I met there.

There are far too many things to write about, but it was a truly incredible experience. I had the opportunity to meet so many people from so many places across the globe doing wonderful things in their communities despite the adversity they face. Very few had disabilities. Only four out of the 300 had a visible disability of some kind – all physical. But I think it was good that way. I learned a lot about advocacy and campaigning, about mentoring and coaching, about personal empowerment, about how to create change, and most importantly, about unity and friendship. Everyone was so accepting of one another and I made so many friends from across the world – from places like Papua New Guinea, Australia, Fiji, Vanawatu, the Solomon Islands, Canada, the UK, the USA, Brazil, Nigeria, Kenya, Liberia, Uganda, Hong Kong, the Philippines, Bangladesh, India, Iraq, Algeria, Palestine, the Czech Republic, Ukraine, South Africa, Guyana and Zimbabwe just to name a few. Places I have never been, but now wish to visit in the future. I’ve always wanted to travel the world, and at Kaleidoscope, the world traveled to me.

Of course, deciding to do this trip independently had its challenges. Getting there and back was probably the biggest mission. Though I traveled with two other New Zealanders, both of whom are wonderful people who I became very close friends with, the journey was long – as in 30 hours or so long – and stressful, especially the trip home. I traveled via Dubai, an airport which apparently doesn’t have enough wheelchairs for its disabled passengers, meaning that I was kicked out of the wheelchair I used there and made to sit in a room called the “special handling area” until they could escort me to the boarding gate. I did protest about this, but my complaints fell on deaf ears and to make matters worse, because there aren’t enough wheelchairs, we had to wait for a spare before we could go to the gate. By the time we got there, the flight was on “final call” and we were very close to missing it. Going through Indian immigration was also an interesting, stressful experience as they kept telling me they had to take my wheelchair away, but no one was telling me why. Eventually it turned out that it needed to be x-rayed for security purposes, and I did get it back after about half an hour of waiting. The language barrier sure made things interesting at times, but I think that was all part of the experience. Overall, though, I managed remarkably well and there was always someone to give me a hand if I needed one.

I saw many things I had never seen before in Delhi; sometimes shocking things: people living on the side of the highway, stray dogs roaming the streets, malnourished cows and other animals eating the piles of garbage on the side of the road, children begging and a great amount of poverty. But I also saw and felt things that inspired me. I saw acceptance, hope, love, friendship, and an incredibly strong sense of unity among us all; rich, poor, black, white, gay, straight, disabled and non-disabled alike. While we were there, a gay pride parade took place in the centre of Delhi. Thousands of people joined together, including a number of Action Partners, to protest for gay rights in the streets of Delhi. Many colours, inspiring signs, drums and chants filled the streets, as did a powerful message of hope and equality for all. I also had the pleasure of visiting a disability organisation in Delhi called AADI, much like CCS Disability Action, and afterwards visiting a village which they worked in. It was great to see some of the “real India” and I think one of the highlights of the trip was clapping and chanting with the schoolkids there – a few of which had disabilities. It was a great experience and one I will never forget.

Yes, it is fair to say that I miss India. All of it. The sights and smells, the food, the traffic jams and the honking of horns, the smoggy air, and most of all, the people which I had the honour to meet and get to know. I didn’t get to sight-see much at all, but I really don’t think it mattered, because in the end, I returned home with many new friends, many memories, a strong sense of gratitude, and a new-found confidence and belief with in myself, which I believe can never be taken away from me or broken.

I am proud; proud that I accomplished my goal of going to India by myself, proud that I was able to prove to myself and others that I could do it, proud that I could make some sort of difference while there, proud that I came back a changed, better person, and proud that I will continue to change myself and my community.

The only question I’m asking myself now is “Where to next?” and the answer? “Anywhere I want to go.”

I’m having trouble choosing what pictures to insert in this post, so to view them all, click here.

The winners were:

• Alex Snedden (Youth Award)
• Jayne Parsons (Courage in Sport)
• Adam Hall (Sport Performer)
• Celeste Strewe (Artistic Achievement)
• Don McKenzie (Hall of Fame Inductee)
• Melrose Kiwi Concept Chairs (Employer Award)
• ACC Supreme award and Spirit award: Melanie Sloan

UPDATE: Conference registration deadline extended by one week to November 19! Register now!

Hey folks! You’ve only got until November 12 to register for the National Disability Conference, ‘Making It Easy To Speak Up’. Organised by the Health & Disability Commissioner, it’s being held on the 6th of December at the Waipuna Conference Centre, Auckland.

Important documents:

• For registration forms, click here
• Download the conference flyer as a PDF here
• Check out the conference programme here
• Read the conference FAQs over here

Fresh from the wheelchair rugby world championships in Vancouver, players from New Zealand’s official national wheelchair rugby team will compete against a team of local celebrities and rugby players, including Tana Umaga, Keven Mealamu, Buck Shelford, and the Black Ferns, to raise awareness of the work of the New Zealand Rugby Foundation (NZRF) and its online rugby community website www.no8.co.nz.

The NZRF assists seriously injured rugby players and their families with the aim of bridging the gap between their ‘before’ and ‘after’ quality of life. They provide lifestyle retraining and grants for injured players and their families, as well as providing them with vocational training, specialised transport and respite care.

The not-for-profit organisation launched www.no8.co.nz in order to create an online community for passionate rugby supporters that would celebrate New Zealander’s best-loved sport, as well as serve to benefit seriously injured rugby players.

NZRF CEO Andrew Flexman is excited about the opportunity to spotlight the charity.

“This is a great opportunity for the New Zealand public to see what the Foundation is all about and be inspired by the unsung heroes of rugby – our Wheel Blacks.”

Limited tickets to the event will be available for purchase on www.no8.co.nz from 27 September.

The public is encouraged to visit the No.8 website to make donations to the NZRF, enter various competitions and engage with the interactive activities on the website related to the event, such as polls and discussion boards.

With over 140,000 New Zealanders over the age of 16 playing rugby, the NZRF is a vital player in the national game. As well as supporting injured rugby players and the Auckland and Burwood Spinal Units, the NZRF also aims to help prevent further critical injuries through rugby safety and injury prevention initiatives such as RugbySmart and supports other areas of ‘rugby in need’ such as wheelchair rugby, NZ Area Schools rugby, player insurance and club rugby.

The No.8 Celebrity Wheelchair Rugby Match will be held at the Auckland Spinal Unit Gymnasium at 30 Bairds Road, Otara, Auckland at 1pm on Sunday 10 October. To make a donation to the NZRF or to purchase tickets to the event please visit www.no8.co.nz.

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Photo courteously of Stuff.

I’m usually quite a big fan of shakes; milkshakes, handshakes, even the odd booty shake. But violent, earth-moving, over-seven-on-the-Richter-scale shakes? Not so much.

Yet, that’s exactly what I awoke to at 4.35AM last Saturday morning – an earthquake of 7.1 on the Richter scale, approximately forty kilometres outside of my hometown of Christchurch. I awoke to an earthquake which shook the entire room so violently, my bookcase toppled over onto my desk, sending hundreds of books flying across my bedroom floor, which rattled the windows and lights so hard that I was convinced they would surely shatter. I awoke to an earthquake which cut power and water supplies to much of the city for hours and in some cases, days, which formed cracks in roads and damaged hundreds of homes and buildings beyond repair, leaving entire families homeless and business owners out of pocket. I awoke to an earthquake that has left and will forever leave its legacy on the beloved garden city, and ten days on, the earth is still shaking with over 500 aftershocks recorded since the quake.

It sounds dramatic, but this event was quite possibly the most terrifying experience I have ever had. It’s almost impossible to accurately describe what it was like in words. The best description I can come up with is something like a cross between being on a cruise ship in awfully rough seas and being in a washing machine on power wash, but even then, I don’t think one really knows what it feels like until they experience it in person.

Even now, more than a week on, I remember what was going through my head while it was all happening rather vividly. I remember first of all, swearing rather colourfully as I clung to my bed and wondered when on earth it was going to stop. I remember thinking the roof was going to collapse on top of me, either killing me instantly, or leaving me trapped under rubble for days. I remember considering getting under my bed, but deciding against it as it would take me too long and would probably injure me more than if I simply stayed where I was. I even remember apologising profusely for tempting fate, as only a couple of days earlier, I had joked with someone that I had never really felt an earthquake and that ‘the big one’ was likely never going to come. I think it’s safe to say that I have felt enough to last me a couple of lifetimes now and I admit that I was clearly wrong about it never coming!

Once the initial shock wore off and the power and water returned, the reality began to sink in that I had just lived through the biggest earthquake New Zealand has had in almost eighty years. Pictures began flooding news stations around the world and my Facebook and Twitter news feeds alike, concerned calls began pouring in from family members overseas, and people; family, friends, and strangers alike, all began telling their own stories of what it was like for them, each counting their blessings that no one they loved was killed while at the same time, wondering what could have been had it struck at a different time on a different day. Still, a feeling of disbelief remains, even when one sees the damage with their own eyes. It is hard to comprehend that Christchurch’s city centre will never be the same, and even harder to comprehend what some families must be going through having lost their home, their job, and what they knew to be their life.

Having a disability and going through something like this has been tough. My infamous Cerebral Palsy startle reflex has gone into overdrive, and I continue to feel anxious and on edge as I wait for the next aftershock to occur. At the same time, I continue to be impressed with the government’s efforts to help those most in need. In fact, I got a phone call from the Ministry of Social Development the other day, just to make sure I was safe and well and to let me know that WINZ was open 24/7 should I require any help, which I thought was a nice gesture. I also continue to be impressed with Canterbury’s amazing community spirit during this time, especially the spirit of my peers and their willingness to help complete strangers clean their gardens, clean up their homes or simply offer them some much needed company and comfort. It is so nice to see that while an earthquake has, in some parts of Canterbury, ripped homes, businesses, and lives apart, it has also allowed the community to pull together, forming new friendships and cementing relationships far stronger than any quake could ever be.

Yes, the Canterbury earthquake of September 4, 2010, was a rather shaky experience, and although the ground continues to shake, although the anxiety remains, I feel truly lucky and blessed that things weren’t and aren’t so much worse.

Oh, another aftershock. I’m guessing that one was a four…

Dear Sir/Madam,

I recently rang Ticketek to purchase tickets to the U2 show in Auckland on November 25th, which I’m really excited about. I heard prices of $40 being advertised on the news which was great, and I would’ve happily stumped up $100 for a ticket. So imagine my disappointment when I was told that the minimum cost of a ticket, for a disabled person using a wheelchair, was $179!! Given that I have to bring a support person with me most places I go, and when you add on the booking fee, that brings the total cost of admission to almost $380.

Honestly, I find that borderline offensive. Having recently spent time in Europe, LiveNation and other promoters often subsidise a disabled person’s entry fee to concerts, or that of their support person’s, because they appreciate this exact quandry. I understand you can’t have designated disabled seating in every price bracket, but it’d be great if this was acknowledged by reduced admission like they consistently do overseas!

Why should regular able-bodied folk be able to choose to buy cheap tickets, but people with disabilities are asked to pay through the nose?

I’d appreciate your thoughts on this, as I’m sure the media would, and any changes to this pricing structure would be gratefully received.

Kind regards,

Red Nicholson

But you know, this is nothing new. I’m constantly frustrated at the complete disregard for disabled patrons by concert promoters here. Many disabled people are unemployed or on a benefit, yet they’re consistently being asked to fork out top dollar to see a band?!

[EDIT] There are tickets to this concert on sale for $39.90, which are unavailable to wheelchair users. The cheapest ticket for a wheelchair user is $179.90. That is more than four times the minimum ticket price offered to able-bodied concert-goers.

Unbelievable.

I find it so so frustrating that disabled people are often seen as asexual beings, thanks in part to the media’s tragic portrayal of us the eternal sufferer. So I’m raising my glass to this lot – I’d love to do something similar down under!

Check out their website for more information.