As a child, I remember coming out of school and heading with my friends to the playground.
It was the highlight of my week as a 7-year-old, but due to my disabilities not presenting too much of an issue at that time, I did not put any thought into what wasn’t available to me.
I just knew that the monkey bars were a no-go due to the strain on my shoulders, and the roundabout made me dizzy even at a slow speed.
I preferred squeezing into the safety of the baby swing where I had a bar to hold on to, compared to my friends who loved swinging high on their full-sized swings.
Even as my disability progressed and I became a wheelchair user, I didn’t think too much about playgrounds, as it wasn’t somewhere I frequented.
That was until a park I knew of was applying for funding and put a shout-out on a Facebook page asking people to write in a letter of support.
It was then I asked myself, I wonder what equipment was going to be put in for children with disabilities, so I reached out.
I was invited over the same day for a meeting with the committee and with the local council to discuss.
(Image: Hazel Osborne )
It was somewhere I knew but had never been – my first hurdle, getting over the grass, whilst going down a slope to get to the gate, (which was heavy of course), just to get in.
The latch to open it was on the other side. Ok, if you are able-bodied, not navigating crutches, or sitting down low in a wheelchair or one of the many other obstacles that disabled people face.
I had to be let in. Imagine if I were on my own with my child. Step one – fail.
Next, we went through the equipment; to my delight, they had thought about some of the things that could be implemented.
However, one thing I really wanted to see was a wheelchair swing. The committee was on my side with this, so why was it stopped, you may ask?
In the playground that they were ripping up, some of the pieces of equipment, which many parents in the area had advised were dangerous, were less than 8 years old; for this reason, they could not take them out.
This meant that equipment that would have really made the park inclusive was declined by the council.
Being new to playgrounds, I sat for hours looking through catalogues of play equipment, making sure we had something for everyone.
A gate that was both safe for children and easily accessible for disabled people, and a flat surface to get into the park from the pathway.
Was there enough room between equipment to bypass in a wheelchair, was there any trip hazards, and was it going to be enjoyable for children?
I would have loved to have picked every item in the catalogue, but I had to be realistic, both for funding reasons and for the space we were playing with.
When the application went to the board, it was for inclusivity in the community that won the award.
On opening day, it was amazing to see children of all abilities enjoying themselves. From wheelchair accessible roundabouts, to communication boards to trampolines that accommodate wheelchair users, basket swings, to sensory items for those who are neurodivergent, the list goes on.
To be asked to be the disability champion for the park was an amazing feeling. We still have a way to go, and our next fight is for access from the car park to the park, which currently needs remodelling, as for those with disabilities, it’s unsafe.
However, whilst this is one success story, too many parks are being modernised without inclusivity in mind.
Why is this not automatic, and I don’t mean one roundabout in a park which can accommodate a wheelchair, I mean every park to accommodate every child, no matter their ability.
People talk about children needing to be out more, more fresh air, more activity, but I ask the authorities to ask themselves this: where do children with disabilities go to play?
