In December, I wrote about how James isn’t a problem to solve, but a child to understand. By now, I should be writing about progress. Instead, it’s about what happens when a school ignores warning after warning until a child finally breaks.
ʟɪғᴇsᴛʏʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪsᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ʙʟᴏɢ 👨🦼
In December, I wrote about how James isn’t a problem to solve, but a child to understand. By now, I should be writing about progress. Instead, it’s about what happens when a school ignores warning after warning until a child finally breaks.
Over the last 18 months, I've been on the Church of England's ordination pathway. I’ve felt called for 15 years, but life — and God — wanted to shape me into the “best worst Christian” my friends love me for. Just before Christmas, I had my Carousel Conversations.
Church Times published an article on a Church of England report today exploring the wellbeing of disabled and neurodivergent clergy. The opening line speaks of “encouraging steps” towards inclusion. The irony isn’t lost on me. Even the metaphor reveals how deeply ablest language is embedded in our culture.
Let alone terms in the article like “physical impairment” that reveal a worldview that frames disabled clergy as deviations, manageable problems, and assessable risks. The Church cannot claim progress while its structures, language, and processes remain shaped by ableism.