Share Meet Sasha, Linda and Tirza on FacebookShare Meet Sasha, Linda and Tirza on TwitterShare Meet Sasha, Linda and Tirza on LinkedinEmail Meet Sasha, Linda and Tirza link
"All three of us know and love people who have struggled with disabilities. My daughter Rachel has serious learning difficulties – when she was a year old I was told, 'She’ll never walk and talk, she'll always be a vegetable'. Sasha's father was disabled after a stroke, and Tirza was a family friend before she joined us here at Larches, so she knows and loves Rachel too. I would lie across the middle of the road to protect Rachel. I found the expectations of those with learning difficulties are far too low. People in big organisations like to think they're rescuing people. But at Larches, which I set up in 1995 because I was so frustrated by the poor options for my daughter, we give them the gift of rescuing themselves by imbuing confidence and self-empowerment. Otherwise it all becomes patronising and stops them gaining any skills. One programme we ran was called ‘Safe Space’, where marginalised people with autism, learning difficulties and emotional issues felt safe to express their feelings. It’s a gift when someone admits they are vulnerable; then it becomes an exchange. Theatre teachers were leading games, role-play and acting, and you could see people rising, becoming able to communicate and really knowing their self-worth.
“The key is making the most of your creative imagination and having a circle of support. Sasha's great at paperwork and submitting forms and finding funds. She's very supportive, strong and resilient, with huge empathy. She's also very, very reliable, with a big heart and very clever, very handy. She's always thinking outside the box, coming up with solutions to problems, finding compromises, getting things to work that were broken. Tirza is essential too. She’s very grounded and focused, and so efficient too. During my breakdown last year she took over all the administration and kept Larches going. By crossing all the 't's and dotting all the 'i's, she gives Sasha and me the space to play with the angels until those magic moments come. They're both wonderful allies, always there when needed. I think my gift is to enable co-creation and co-production, as well as not taking 'No' for an answer. One lady refused to join in when we were all colouring. She kept saying, 'I can't colour'. After lots of gentle encouragement she finally did, then said proudly, 'Look what I've done!'. We all cheered, and this breakthrough gave her the confidence to try other things too. When she said, 'You believe in me', I said, 'You believe in yourself!'"
"All three of us know and love people who have struggled with disabilities. My daughter Rachel has serious learning difficulties – when she was a year old I was told, 'She’ll never walk and talk, she'll always be a vegetable'. Sasha's father was disabled after a stroke, and Tirza was a family friend before she joined us here at Larches, so she knows and loves Rachel too. I would lie across the middle of the road to protect Rachel. I found the expectations of those with learning difficulties are far too low. People in big organisations like to think they're rescuing people. But at Larches, which I set up in 1995 because I was so frustrated by the poor options for my daughter, we give them the gift of rescuing themselves by imbuing confidence and self-empowerment. Otherwise it all becomes patronising and stops them gaining any skills. One programme we ran was called ‘Safe Space’, where marginalised people with autism, learning difficulties and emotional issues felt safe to express their feelings. It’s a gift when someone admits they are vulnerable; then it becomes an exchange. Theatre teachers were leading games, role-play and acting, and you could see people rising, becoming able to communicate and really knowing their self-worth.
“The key is making the most of your creative imagination and having a circle of support. Sasha's great at paperwork and submitting forms and finding funds. She's very supportive, strong and resilient, with huge empathy. She's also very, very reliable, with a big heart and very clever, very handy. She's always thinking outside the box, coming up with solutions to problems, finding compromises, getting things to work that were broken. Tirza is essential too. She’s very grounded and focused, and so efficient too. During my breakdown last year she took over all the administration and kept Larches going. By crossing all the 't's and dotting all the 'i's, she gives Sasha and me the space to play with the angels until those magic moments come. They're both wonderful allies, always there when needed. I think my gift is to enable co-creation and co-production, as well as not taking 'No' for an answer. One lady refused to join in when we were all colouring. She kept saying, 'I can't colour'. After lots of gentle encouragement she finally did, then said proudly, 'Look what I've done!'. We all cheered, and this breakthrough gave her the confidence to try other things too. When she said, 'You believe in me', I said, 'You believe in yourself!'"
"All three of us know and love people who have struggled with disabilities. My daughter Rachel has serious learning difficulties – when she was a year old I was told, 'She’ll never walk and talk, she'll always be a vegetable'. Sasha's father was disabled after a stroke, and Tirza was a family friend before she joined us here at Larches, so she knows and loves Rachel too. I would lie across the middle of the road to protect Rachel. I found the expectations of those with learning difficulties are far too low. People in big organisations like to think they're rescuing people. But at Larches, which I set up in 1995 because I was so frustrated by the poor options for my daughter, we give them the gift of rescuing themselves by imbuing confidence and self-empowerment. Otherwise it all becomes patronising and stops them gaining any skills. One programme we ran was called ‘Safe Space’, where marginalised people with autism, learning difficulties and emotional issues felt safe to express their feelings. It’s a gift when someone admits they are vulnerable; then it becomes an exchange. Theatre teachers were leading games, role-play and acting, and you could see people rising, becoming able to communicate and really knowing their self-worth.