Socks and solidarity

The first blog I wrote about Down’s syndrome — Odd Socks on an Odd Day — was just as we’d all gone into lockdown for the first time. Two years have passed and this Odd Sock Day it’s honestly hard to know where to start.

Like everyone I sometimes find myself awake and fretting in the small hours. I would be lying if I said I didn’t worry a little more about Rosa than I do about her brother.

Statistics (and more importantly people’s stories) show how pervasive discrimination is in shaping the lives of people with learning disabilities. Look at health, housing, hate crime, education, employment, poverty… and on and on. The narrative of the pandemic has been deeply damaging in reinforcing an (erroneous) idea that disabled people’s lives matter less. Disabled people have carried the greatest burdens of risk, isolation, loss of daily support and narrowing of their worlds.

Now, here we are two years in and almost all public health protections are being removed, whilst an eye watering 1 in 14 of us have covid. We’ve all waited a long time for a light at the end of the tunnel, but some now feel that their light has been all but extinguished.

But, even in the dark, there are glimmers of hope.

Each 21st of March my timeline is filled with colour. By sharing their mismatched feet, people show solidarity and signal their commitment to an inclusive world.

This year our timelines also feature blue and yellow in solidarity for the people of Ukraine. Disabled children are amongst the most vulnerable in wars, especially as they’re often not able to flee.

This 21st March, if you happen to have a little to spare, Inclusion Europe has launched an appeal to support people with learning disabilities in Ukraine. And to support disabled children in other parts of the world, including Afghanistan, Yemen and Syria, you can donate to UNICEF.

So, here’s to solidarity, hope in the darkness and beautiful, colourful odd socks that celebrate difference, diversity and inclusion.