One day I won’t be around to speak for my daughter. The thought of men, however they ‘identify’, taking care of her at night, on a lone working basis, dealing with her intimate care, fills me with fear.
I have a severely learning-disabled, profoundly autistic, non-verbal daughter. She is wholly dependent on others for everything, including intimate care, 24/7. A few years ago, her special school informed me that it was changing its same sex intimate-care policy to a cross gender one, to “celebrate staff diversity”. This was because, they said, the law had changed.
But what law? They couldn’t really say. There were some vague words about HR, the Chartered Institute of Personnel and Development and local-authority training. I simply couldn’t believe what I was being told – that a special school, with all its experience, was ready to overlook the safety and dignity of these very disabled girls.
The school eventually consulted a lawyer, who confirmed that the Equality Act required it to restore same-sex intimate care for female students. However, this was only to be on the basis of “parental preference”. I continued to be made feel that wanting same-sex intimate care was in some way outdated or unreasonable.
There are hundreds of thousands of girls like my daughter in England in special schools, supported living and nursing homes – girls and women who are unable to talk about what happens to them, and unable to tell anyone if they have been flashed, groped, or raped. Sex-based rights are central to keeping them safe and I am at a loss to explain how commissioners and service providers have lost sight of this, and of these girls’ dignity and worth.