Returning To Holland
A disabled woman’s experience of ‘coming back’ to the world of disability- this time as a member of staff.
I was born in Holland. My parents, like most parents, wanted me to be born in Italy. But their plane landed in Holland, and there they had to stay, with me. And they loved it. Mostly.
I loved it too, mostly. But, as soon as I was old enough, I looked for work.
In those days, there wasn’t much work in Holland. People in Holland worked the way they lived, slowly and carefully.
I wanted to work just a little faster than most of my friends in Holland. So the first job I applied for was in Italy.
I loved working in Italy. But I soon found out that there wasn’t much work in Italy, either.
Finally, I decided to look for work in Holland.
I returned home, taking with me some things I had learnt in Italy. I was sad to find that most of my friends had left Holland. There were new people in Holland now. Some had come from Italy.
I wanted to tell them about the way Holland used to be. I found that they enjoyed hearing about the Holland I had left behind, the place of windmills, tulips, and paintings better than the Mona Lisa. I found that they had come to love Holland and were trying hard to call it their home.
I soon realised that I didn’t miss Italy at all. The slower, friendlier pace of Holland suited me perfectly, as always.
There are, of course, things that could change in Holland. My skills from Italy might help me make living and working in Holland a little better than it used to be.
But I’ve returned home to Holland. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Same Difference 