The Games have lifted morale at Moore Abbey special needs facility, but the eyes of its clients are on the future, writes Eileen Battersby
In the great hall of Moore Abbey, an 18th-century Gothic mansion run as a special needs services facility in Monasterevin, Co Kildare, the countdown to the Special Olympics has been closely monitored. Moore Abbey, which was purchased by the Sisters of Charity of Jesus and Mary in 1937, boasts the largest contingent of athletes in the Games: 22 men and women from this Kildare centre are representing Ireland in several sports, including basketball, swimming and pitch-and-putt, while an all-female quartet will mount a challenge in the kayaking and four will participate in the non- competitive motor skills events.
According to Brendan Broderick, chief executive officer, the staff members of Moore Abbey are positive about the Games.
"It has been fantastic for morale," he says.
This is obvious. Special Olympics posters, bunting and photographs of the athletes decorate the walls and windows throughout the campus-like complex, set in landscaped parkland. The complex includes chalets in which small groups, members of which are employed in local shops and businesses, live as a social unit.
The gym and pool are busy places; much of the kayak training has been done on the River Barrow, which runs through the property. Athletes have also travelled to other training venues, all of which has added to the excitement.
But the athletes appear calm, determined not to be nervous. Moore Abbey has a good atmosphere and is less institutionalised than one might expect. A sense of freedom has been created because staff members are relaxed and friendly. Emphasis has been placed on engaging with individuals and respecting their dignity. Staff speak directly to "clients" or "service users" who are never referred to as "patients". It is strange to hear the word "client", but it is considered less marginalising and is preferable to the traditional and offensive "inmate", while "resident" is not wholly accurate as many of the clients either live at home or in community-based accommodation and use the day services.
"This is what we want," says Broderick. "More and more people with a learning disability settled, and hopefully working within a community - we want to reduce traditional congregate care. We don't want to have a parallel universe."
Upstairs in the main building are a number of dorm-like rooms.
"People need their own bedrooms," says Broderick. "You should not have adults living in a boarding-school situation. I'm not happy that some still do."
Staff work hard at Moore Abbey to respond to the clients as individuals. Televisions are on, you can hear music, but you also hear a lot of talk. Even in the case of clients for whom speech is difficult, body language is recognised as their individual language, and if the words are missing, the meaning often comes through. Others are articulate and self- possessed.
Anne-Marie McDermott, who is one of eight Moore Abbey clients on the Irish basketball team, leans on the stage in the gym, writing training details into her logbook. Every athlete has a logbook. By now, these A4 notebooks contain the details of hours and months and years of training completed by athletes from all over the world.
McDermott's logbook is well-used. Her small, neat handwriting tells the story.
"I've worked at my fitness. I feel good," she says. If her leg is a bit sore at the moment, it is only because she has been training hard. But she is not worried, it's not serious.
Broderick, a clinical psychologist, is positive and enthusiastic. He, in common with every other special needs care worker at Moore Abbey, in Ireland, and across the world, wants the games to be a triumph.
"This has been wonderful for raising public awareness," he says. "It is a great opportunity for the athletes, but . . ."
That "but" is vital. Broderick fears that after the hype fades away, people will forget.
"We have to make sure that now, when that awareness is so high, it won't pass," he says. "This is an opportunity we have to exploit, we won't have a chance such as this again. Between 2000 and 2002, an extra 1,000 residential places were established. That sounds great, but there are still 1,700 people with special needs in Ireland who live at home, many with ageing parents who urgently need a residential place."
Presenting his fears and concerns in the most reasonable way, Broderick could not be dismissed as a zealot. He is fair and does not begrudge the Special Olympics hype, but he believes insufficient attention is given to the fact that as soon as a person with a learning disability is given anything, "that's it, it is virtually impossible to argue the case for more. You only get one chance."
Rose Price is a special needs nurse with more than 20 years' experience in the area. She is also involved with the host town programme. An inspired motivator, she is also a realist.
"I think all of this is wonderful," she says. "It's great for the athletes, but I don't want to think that here we have made them Cinderellas for the day and as soon as it's all over, it will be 'thank you and now back in the box'. You can't do that to people, particularly for people who have done so much to assert themselves."
Her immediate group includes some with the most challenging conditions. Yet even those who were silent now engage and respond. Speech and words do come, and conversation develops through patience, repetition and communication. A visitor is noted immediately, and each new face is examined. Eye contact is made and hands are taken and held. It is only in a setting such as this, in which communication is difficult, that you realise how important it is and how little value most of us place on it.
For all the goodwill around them, many of the people at Moore Abbey are suspended in an ongoing twilight zone of profound physical and mental disability. Even eating can prove an ordeal. There are those who need to be spoon-fed, washed, dressed, toilet-assisted. It is a reality that can be lost amid the current fanfare. Special needs range from mild learning disabilities to profound dependency.
"The athletes are only a tiny proportion," points out Broderick. "They are the stars - it will be difficult for them coming down, but how about all the others? Most of our clients are not Special Olympics competitors - how about them? Special Olympics 2003 will really only matter to them if we can succeed in exploiting this unique opportunity to briefly command the national attention span, to build public support, to improve the actual life quality of all our people."
It is interesting to note that although Moore Abbey has the largest Irish team contingent, the age profile is older.
"This is a traditional facility," he says. "Most of our clients are older and belong to the most severely challenged categories. Many of them have been institutionalised all their lives."
Several, were they younger, would probably never have been institutionalised. You meet others, chat to them or observe them, and can't help asking: "Why are they here?" The answer makes sense and it is also very sad.
Modern life's complex structures and computer technology render completely independent living difficult.
"Yet, in a less developed society," says Broderick, "they would have managed. Progress has actually made it harder. The increased complexity of life exposes their compromised learning capacity."
Various aspects of Irish social history are reflected in the faces and lives of the men and women who either live in dormitory-like groups within the main buildings, or in smaller prefabs such as the Guardian Angel block. This is seriously overcrowded.
"It is very difficult when you have big equipment such as wheelchairs," says Brigid Lonergan, ward sister. Her clients are helpless. A woman is slumped in a wheelchair and it is difficult to determine whether she is aware of anything. Nearby, another, obviously in turmoil, is muttering loudly and gesturing. For Lonergan, her job amounts to a holding operation.
"We can't hope for improvement, not even the tiniest signs of progress. Instead we see the deterioration. It can be distressing to watch," she says.
She is honest, not fatalistic. There are no platitudes, just the reality.
Brendan Broderick knows Moore Abbey succeeds because of its staff. While he is not lamenting, he is aware that new facilities have deflected attention from existing ones. "We are concerned about funding levels for older traditional residential services," he says. "The Government has made funding available for newer services. Waiting-lists don't get shorter, and staffing levels remain critically low."