In the interest of context, allow me to recap the last few weeks as concisely as I can. Taking my first ever lesson at Massey High School was a pretty big deal. You know, we spend years at University; months contemplating teaching; weeks at Teachers’ College; and it all comes down to one hour, one period, one lesson to answer the big question: can I do this? The answer, I’m delighted to report, was a resounding yes.

It was, in fact, quite the momentous occasion. Going in to my first practicum, I had several obvious hurdles to overcome, and would discover several more in the first few days. How would I cope with not being able to write on the whiteboard? Does it matter that I’m perpetually 4ft? Will the students take me seriously? Will I manage, wheels ‘n all?

So as you can imagine, getting that first lesson under the belt and putting a cautious tick in the “viable career option” box was a huge accomplishment. Since then, things have got better and better.

Please don’t misconstrue my excitement as ego, I’m well aware that this is but a small step on the long road to becoming an accomplished teacher. My mentors make it look so damn easy, and teaching can be really bloody difficult. But the mere fact that I have conquered the first few hurdles and put many head-scratching colleagues’ evident concerns to rest gives me a huge sense of achievement. We need to celebrate our successes, however insignificant!

So, on to what happened today. Yesterday, my lecturer Ngaire Hoben observed me teaching a Year 13 Media Studies class, and my students – bless them – were all so conscious of “being good” that they turned into this terrifyingly silent bunch of teenagers. THEY ARE NEVER SILENT! Anyway, as a token of my thanks I brought in some chocolate for them to munch on during last period. In exchange, I asked them to fill out a short feedback form on yesterday’s lesson – “One thing I liked” / “One thing I thought could have been better”. They all did it, and I’ve just flicked through the responses.

Wow. Their responses were astonishing. They were genuine, well-considered, thoughtful responses that will really aid my teaching from here on in. Suggestions like “Spend a little more time on the middle part of the lesson”, and “Go through some of the techniques used in the film to help refresh our memory” epitomise the level of conscious feedback I received. Reading the “stuff they liked” was also really useful, helping me to understand which elements of the lesson resonated with them. I also got some hearts and smiley faces which, you know, never hurts!

It’s really staggering just how little my wheelchair affects my ability to teach, really. I’ve started using a wireless bluetooth keyboard in conjunction with my laptop to allow me to record class discussions on the board – it’s just brilliant. Much better than a whiteboard! And apart from the odd question about whether or not my wheelchair is “fun” (?!), the students are largely unfazed by it. Truly, it’s something of a revelation. And so encouraging. I’m so excited by what’s to come next!

BRING IT ON!

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.

The Be.Leadership Programme has been designed to attract a diverse cross-section of the disabled community who wish to develop their leadership potential.

Expressions of interest are sought from people who believe they will benefit from the programme and have something to offer other participants. We are looking for a wide range of backgrounds (e.g. business, public sector, rural, arts, community). Disabled people who are active within the community sector are strongly encouraged to apply.

If you’re interested, download the application form here and send it in ASAP!

[UPDATE]: Due to unexpected demand, the deadline for expressions of interest has been extended to Monday 7th February, 5pm.

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.

• How will I tie their shoelaces?
• Will other kids give them stick about my wheelchair?
• What will the teacher’s reaction be?

Well, in this article from BBC’s fantastic Ouch! site, self-confessed “sexy, sassy” mother-of-two Isabella Devani tells us about her experience in this exact situation.

My wheelchair was too big for the small classroom, but Kirit was desperate to show Mummy his new coat peg and the like. That meant traversing the mass of under-five’s playing in my path. Resourceful as ever I decided not to risk mowing down the children and parents. Instead, I handed my digital camera to the classroom assistant who went with my son to photograph everything that would be important to him in his first days there. It wasn’t ideal but we both left happy.

For all the disabled mums reading this post, I’d love to hear about your experiences! What was it like taking your child to school for the first time? Terrifying? Beautiful? Please do share

You can read the full article here.

http://tvnz.co.nz/close-up/tonight-close-up-2646711/video

For those who don’t know, this month’s Rise magazine featured me and this site within their illustrious pages. Check out the cover art on the right, and to read their wee interview with me, click here.

psst… it’s “Nicholson”, not Nicolson!

But this year – oh boy, this year – the BDO organisers had erected a platform in front of the main stages for the benefit of people in a similar predicament to myself (not that being in a wheelchair is a predicament, I’m just saying… oh never mind). This meant that for such class acts as Pendulum and Neil Young, my friends and I were treated to a stellar view, well above the heads of the other punters. Fantastic stuff. Props to the BDO organisers for finally doing something about the appalling state of accessibility at the festival. Now just fix the toilets, lack of curb cuts, over-zealous security…

Erin Gough has written a fantastic review of the BDO over at her blog.

View of Neil Young from “The Platform” as he sings Heart of Gold (credit to Erin for the choice video, too!):

(psst. I’m just jealous ;P)