I spend far too much time laughing as soon as I’m in the studio with them, time flies and we record way too much, luckily you only have to listen to the edited version! They’re all a great team to work with, thank you to Damon, Emma & Daniel for inviting me back on the show.
In this edition of the talk show you can hear my first foray into news broadcasting as well as the usual fun & banter with Mat Fraser & Liz Carr. Or as Damon Rose from Ouch! so eloquently puts it:
“High street model Shannon Murray – the posh girl who uses a wheelchair – joins us to look through some recent news stories.”
Thank you to everyone who tuned into No Triumph, No Tragedy on BBC Radio 4 last week and a sincerely heartfelt thanks to everyone who got in touch with me via Twitter & email, the feedback has been incredibly warm and supportive.
For those of you still interested enough to hear more of me (!!) there is another interview being broadcast this week on BBC Radio Scotland; it’s part of a series called ‘Pioneers’ and I was really flattered to be asked to contribute, especially as I feel like there is still so much more I would like to achieve. The presenter, Clare English, was a real joy to work with, and to be honest it felt more like a chat with a good friend than an interview!
It goes out this Thursday 8 September at 14.05 but you can always listen later via the iPlayer.
Just a quick post to let you know that you can catch me chatting to Peter White in “No Triumph, No Tragedy” on BBC Radio 4 on Monday 29 August at 9am.
As it’s a Bank Holiday in the UK some of you might be indulging in a little lie in, so you can listen later at 9.30pm!
It’s quite an in depth and personal interview, we chatted for ages and I really enjoyed Peter’s probing questions, naturally I can’t now remember everything I said but I hope you enjoy it!
21 years ago today my legs stopped moving. No warning, no gradual decline or deterioration, just bang, one second they worked and the next they didn’t.
This blog post is perhaps a little more personal and much more intimate than any of my previous posts. It’s been triggered by a number of factors; I recently read and later watched great play written by an old friend of mine, ‘Those Legs’ by the hugely talented writer, actor, director, Noel Clarke, which features a young woman who is coming to terms with paraplegia,. I hadn’t seen Noel in years until recently and it’s remarkable how insightful certain aspects of his play were. There was one scene that particularly resonated with me where the female lead is looking longingly at a new pair of 5inch stilettos bought by her friend. It reminded me that even though I can still wear those shoes I can’t really garner the attention they create; they can’t alter my gait to flex my calves nor can they make my bum or bust more prominent whilst sitting in my wheelchair.
Whilst away recently I was enjoying the obligatory people watching in Paris, observing women teetering precariously along the dust and gravel in the Jardin des Tuileries wearing knife edge stiletto heels. I love seeing a woman who can walk and run confidently in high heels, it’s an acquired skill, but I can also recall the pain of an uncomfortable pair. Nothing quite like the sympathy you feel for a woman clearly walking in agony, all out of kilter in heels. Seriously girls, carry a pair of flat pumps in your bag, leave the ‘car to bar’ shoes for exactly that; for walking from the car into the bar.
I can see why some men and women love stilettos; they give the illusion of slimmer legs and long calf muscles leading to toned curvy thighs and sexy hips that bang and pop from side to side. I see how great a full firm arse looks that fills a pair of jeans, while those same girls say “does my bum look big in this?” Apparently Marilyn Monroe used to have ½ an inch chopped off one stiletto heel in order to amplify the effects of her famous wiggle.
When I was younger I would spend the first night of my summer holiday trying on every single pair of shoes in my grandmother’s wardrobes; parading around her apartment in my own mini fashion show; she had more shoes than Imelda Marcos so it took a few hours! I used to love the clicking sound of the heels against the tiles on her floor and would frequently try to go out in them but was told nothing higher than 2inches, anything more made me look like ‘jailbait’ apparently!
I have a photo that I treasure, it was taken outside her apartment the night before my accident, it’s a full length photo of me aged 14 in a dangerously short skirt, but I’m so glad to have it as a memento of how my legs last looked whilst ‘perfect’.
The other thing that got me thinking about the significance (or not) of working legs was reflecting upon a personal situation from earlier this year, I had been on a few dates with someone and as my interest in him grew, I noticed my self confidence shrank. I found myself feeling insecure about my body and comparing myself to other walking women. It is one of the few times that I have found myself envious of the physical abilities of women who can walk.
Most of the time I don’t give a flying f*ck about walking, it’s really not the be all and end all, and those of you that still believe it is have an awful lot to learn about life and the human experience.
However I realised that there was a pattern and that I’ve felt this way when dating other men, not that most of them will have known it; I have a tendency to behave slightly aloof, cool and detached for self preservation. Sometimes I think I’m more confident when I’m single, no need to worry what someone else thinks of me and the insecurity that breeds within me because I can’t be perfect. Don’t worry, I realise this is stupid thinking, I know no one is perfect and perfection is unattainable, and as I noticed the change in my body confidence it was then I knew I was going on dates with the wrong person. The right partner should inspire confidence in yourself, not deplete it.
But…I see how beautiful strong sexy legs are in heels, and I just worry any potential partner will too. I fear he might lust after women who can walk, run for a bus, skip down a beach, screw standing up, do the ‘snap & bend’, strut down the street in red soled Louboutins, or wriggle their bum into a pencil skirt. I’m scared he’ll miss that and long for something that I can’t provide because my body is different now. I can’t wiggle as I leave hoping he’s watching, I can’t walk arm in arm with hands in each other’s jeans pockets. They’re the tiny little things I sometimes mourn, but have never really shared…. until now.
I guess I have an objective appreciation of the human form, I see the endless potential of bodies and I love seeing the work people have put into making the very most of the gift they have. I stare in awe at the physical abilities and mental dedication of ballet dancers, acrobats and athletes, how they sculpt their body for their craft and push their body to extremes. From the Amazonian legs of Beyonce and Gisele to the shorter curvier legs of Lily Allen and the muscular legs of Serena Williams, I love the look of their legs, in awe of the beauty of the simple flexion and extension of a firm, well toned thigh muscle.
So yes, I miss creating that click clack sound across the floor that a pair of high heels make as they strut across the floor. I miss not creating the accompanying wiggle that turns heads. However, I still love my legs, their ridiculous length, I like that they look nearly the same as they always did, just less muscle tone, but the freckles are where they always were, like familiar friends reassuring me that I’m the same person with the same legs but different. I wouldn’t swap them for anybody else’s.
Now I’m off to blast ZZ Top and enjoy the sunshine, have a good weekend!
With sincere thanks to Noel Clarke: http://www.noelclarkeofficial.com/noelclarke/
Rather randomly it was brought to my attention this week that a few different people were pretending to be me on Facebook. I only use Facebook to keep in touch with friends and family so I only accept friend requests from people I actually know in real life; therefore if we haven’t met and we’re friends on Facebook then I’m afraid it’s not genuinely me.
This feels like one of the oddest posts I’ve ever had to write, I can’t quite believe that someone wants to either pretend to be me in order to befriend others or is using their own name but fraudulently stating that photos of me are them. In this instance imitation is not the sincerest form of flattery!
What is most concerning is that the man pretending to be “Shannon Murray” is befriending lots of other female wheelchair users under the guise of being me. I suspect that this person is a devotee* and is using Facebook to make contact with disabled women to satisfy his own fascination with disability; each woman he befriends would essentially facilitate the creation of his own personal photo album of disabled women.
I don’t have a problem with devotees per se, people are attracted to others for a variety of reasons and I’m non judgmental of personal sexual preferences or desires; I do however have a problem with someone hiding behind my identity, pretending to be someone they’re not and deceiving women and young girls. Please be careful to whom you send friend requests and from whom you accept them, people can use photographs from all over the internet to create fake profiles and make contact.
The Facebook profile has now been taken down, please let me know if you suspect any other fraudulent users and I shall endeavour to have them removed from Facebook too.
I try not to be angry ranty disabled woman but sometimes the wrong buttons get pushed…
We recently had a fire drill at work; it’s a pretty large building with 3 fire lifts to evacuate wheelchair users in an emergency. I left the building immediately using the lift nearest me but straight afterwards an able bodied woman used the lift, effectively delaying the evacuation of 3 other wheelchair users from the floors above me.
Personally I find it goes against all natural instinct to push myself into a lift when a fire alarm is sounding, it’s quite unnerving to enter a confined space while alarms are sounding and then relying on electrics and hydraulics to keep working the event of an actual fire. I’d much rather have the freedom to use a staircase and rely upon my own legs to walk, run or jump down the stairs.
Has she not seen Towering Inferno?? It doesn’t end well for characters stuck in the lift. Has she never noticed that every bright red sticker near a lift screams “Do not use in the event of an emergency!”
Fifteen minutes later we were allowed to re enter the building, the main lifts were overcrowded with people queuing so I went around the corner using the smaller fire lift again. Initially it was just me and a woman audibly wheezing with breathing difficulties waiting for the lift to reach the ground floor.
As we waited dozens of people passed us on their way to the staircase but one fit young able man stopped with us and said aloud to his mate, “I can’t be arsed to walk 5 flights of stairs, I’m taking the lift”.
It took about another minute for the lift to arrive, a long slow 60 seconds with us waiting in strained silence but for the sound of her wheezing.
Stupidly, I bit my lip in anger & astonishment rather than ask “Seriously?? Have you no shame?”
I have to admit I’ve been quite shocked and angered by the vitriol directed at disabled people campaigning against the proposed Government cuts to the Disabled Living Allowance; for those of you who don’t know, this is a benefit for people who need help because they are physically or mentally disabled. It has a strict eligibility criteria and is divided into two components; one for personal care and one for mobility. Some recipients qualify for both components but a large majority only claim for mobility assistance to help with travel costs because they have severe difficulty walking or like me, can’t walk at all.
A few weeks ago thousands of disabled protesters and their families marched to Westminster, as part of the Hardest Hit campaign. I had planned to attend the rally but unfortunately was held up at another appointment. I was hoping to read more about it in that week’s press but sadly the coverage is next to non existent; another sad indictment of our “I’m alright Jack” society.
Listening to snippets of coverage on the Jeremy Vine Show on BBC Radio 2 I found myself feeling increasingly frustrated at the listeners who were texting in their own comments; to paraphrase a few examples “I wouldn’t claim benefits if I was disabled” and “No one helps me, why should I help them?” What happened in their lives to create such animosity and such a dearth of compassion towards vulnerable people struggling with the most basic human functions?
Interestingly a recent survey by Scope has shown evidence that there has been an increase in verbal abuse and physical violence against disabled people and that this rise seems attributable to the Government’s publicity of their proposed cuts and reforms. Sadly, the Government’s reasoning for changing DLA perpetuates this pathetic idea that people with disabilities are all social scroungers, whilst I accept that there are some people who are fraudulently claiming IB and DLA, these cuts will do more harm than good.
We don’t want to be further isolated and excluded from society, we want inclusion and equality and that is what the DLA provides; it doesn’t give us a metaphorical head start, merely edges us a little closer to equal footing. There is no amount of money that can compensate a severe disability or give relief to stressed and exhausted family carers. Benefits simply help some families to live a very basic existence, not a lavish life of luxury on Lake Como.
Personally the DLA ensures I can travel independently, I work full time and it funds my car without which I would have to give up work. Isn’t that counteractive to the ideology that disabled people should be working? Without my job how can I contribute to society, to GDP or pay NI and tax? Contrary to popular belief not all disabled people can use public transport; I certainly can’t, so bang goes work life, social life, in fact any life at all. Would it more convenient for the Government to just lock me and others like me in a room and let us waste away? There is currently a proposal to remove the mobility component of DLA from people who live full-time in care homes funded by local authorities, essentially confining them to their care homes with no means of transport for occasional outings to see family or friends.
Is this how a negative change in attitude starts? The Government claims that the social and economic problems that they are experiencing are due in part to the burden of supporting disabled people; publishing data which stresses the high cost of supporting those with disabilities, and suggests that it is detrimental to society to pay for this support. Isn’t this the start of a slippery slope towards intolerance? It’s no coincidence that recent statistics prove that abuse and negative treatment of people with disabilities is on the increase. We are supposed to be living in a civilised society where we can ensure better quality of life for all, not just those fortunate enough to be able bodied. It’s a sad reflection on our society when more people campaigned against the Government selling off the forests than campaigned to ensure the basic welfare of millions of disabled people.
Let me re iterate a very basic point: None of us chose to be disabled; we were either born this way or acquired our disability through illness or physical injury. Do you think given the option I would choose a more difficult life, to have people stare at me in the street, to have travel restrictions forced upon me, to be overlooked for jobs, to be the butt of crap Frankie Boyle gags, to have my independence compromised and to be perceived as somehow less than everyone else? The answer is no, I didn’t choose this life, it was an accident. And to anyone reading this still ambivalent towards disability, remember in any one second it could happen to you; you’re only temporarily able bodied.
Imagine this: Walking across the road one day you’re hit by a car and suffer a life changing injury, you’re instantly paralysed from the waist down. You’re rushed to hospital and spend the next six months in a spinal injury rehabilitation unit, you’ll never see the inside of your 4th floor flat again, you never needed a lift before, but now you’ll have depend on your friends and family to empty the contents of your home for you and move all your belongings to an accessible home or possibly into storage while you spend months trying to find somewhere accessible and affordable to live, which is likely to be very difficult given that your employer has decided you can no longer cut it at work. Now you need to find a new job in an accessible building with parking seeing as you can’t use the tube anymore, (but hey that’s not such a bad thing!). However, in spite of your excellent CV now it’s much harder for you to find a job, employers doubt your capabilities and have concerns that you might be a drain on resources or even pose a health and safety risk; on average disabled people apply for 35 more jobs than an able bodied candidate. So, your personal life has been turned upside down, you don’t recognise your physical self anymore and you are struggling to cope financially.
Still think you won’t need to rely on additional financial support and social incentives?
