Yelling At A Disabled JSA Claimant

An extract from Kate Belgrave:

I was at a jobcentre this week with a man who has learning difficulties. First, he signed on (that took a grand total of about four minutes, including a brief interlude of about ten seconds when Security called out to stop me accompanying this man. I decided to ignore Security on this occasion and kept walking). Then, we went to find the disability adviser to talk about people or organisations or someone somewhere who might be able to help this man into work, or to understand his support needs, at least. I had talked with the adviser about this briefly earlier in the week. The aim was to have a discussion about options and then take things from there.

We found the adviser. The adviser was not in a good mood. At all. There was no chance to talk. Before we even sat down, the adviser had signed this guy up to a work course – one which he had no idea how to get to. We were only told where it was when I asked. He’d been signed up on the computer by then. That was the end of the story as far as details or any negotiations went. The rest he’ll have to try and figure out. Travel was definitely a worry. If this man gets the tube, he’ll need to make a change at Green Park, possibly at rush hour. Bus options might work, but seemed complex. The point is that absolutely none of this was raised or canvassed before the course was chosen. This guy I was with is physically unwell, struggles to read and write and to follow complicated directions, and may need someone to help him negotiate the journey, especially the first time that he goes. He clearly felt stressed at the thought of it. I told the adviser that I might be able to accompany him to his first session now that he was signed up. “That’d be good,” the adviser said. I assumed that was the extent of the “help” that disabled people got if they struggled to travel, at least on this day.

The adviser made it very clear that if this man doesn’t get to this course, he’d be sanctioned. “They’re strict,” the adviser said of the provider. For Christ’s sake, I thought. It would’ve been nice to talk about the travel requirements and any potential problems before the place was selected. Perhaps another provider closer to home could have been found. There followed next a very heated exchange about this man’s most recent experience on so-called work choice (which I’ve just noticed seems to be voluntary) and whether or not he’d taken full advantage of the “help” he was supposedly offered by a previous provider. The adviser said he hadn’t. The man said that the “help” hadn’t been helpful at all. The adviser lost patience. This man shouted as well. He was obviously struggling to get his point over. I just sat there and wondered again why we were doing this, and whether the best way to handle someone with learning difficulties was to lose your temper and shriek.