What’s Your Story?
Writing on the Wall Kuumba Imani Millennium Centre 4, Princes Road, Liverpool L8 1TH Published by Writing on the Wall 2015 Š Remains with authors Design and layout by Rosa Murdoch Edited by Zoe Lambert ISBN: 978-1-910580-08-0
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers. 0151 703 0020 info@writingonthewall.org.uk www.writingonthewall.org.uk
The views or opinions expressed in this publication are those of the individual contributors and authors’ own and do not necessarily reflect the official views, opinion, policy or position of Family Action. All characters appearing in this publication are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
What’s Your Story? Manchester Young Carers
Contents Foreword
i
Brittany Franz
1
Arron Parker
5
Christine Robertson
12
Reko Smith
17
Amy Stephens
23
Chloe Sutton
25
Tobija Wilson
28
Afterword from Writing on the Wall
35
Afterword from Family Action
36
Foreword It’s difficult to estimate how many young carers there are in the UK. The BBC recently put the number at 700,000. In many ways our society is letting down these young people, who contribute so much to both their families and the wider community. Lancaster University, where I lecture in creative writing, has funded this project. ‘Impact’ is a buzzword at the moment in research, but this project shows that universities can make an important impact on lives outside of the campus. This is sorely needed in our climate of austerity and cuts, where there are less and less services for young people. There is a personal reason for this project too. Caring has been a factor of my family life since my early twenties, but in running the project I didn’t want to focus the workshops on writing about their roles as carers. I focused on the act of writing itself, and let their ideas take the lead. What stands out in this anthology is the freshness of young voices. This is in the colloquial language and lively rhythms in Tobija and Britney’s poems, the startling directness in Chloe’s ‘My Illness’ and Chrissie’s ‘Poison Mind’, the influence and rhythm of rap in Arron’s ‘News’ and the subtle use of metaphor in Tobija’s, ‘Yo Shak’, which works brilliantly when performed. These are youthful voices exploring a wide range of subjects, from sitting an exam to mental health issues to discovering your granddad is bisexual. Some pieces imagine other lives: the soldiers in Arron’s ‘Tears of A Hero’ and Chrissie’s ‘Little Soldier’, a girl bullied at school in Reko’s
i
poem, and Brit’s striking depiction of the thoughts of a murderer in ‘She’s dead, she’ll live’. Some of the writing was written at home in notebooks and on phones, and shared with me, and some was written in the workshops. It was Mike Garry’s discussion of the power of repetition which inspired, Brit’s ‘Silly Boy’. And it was a focus on imagery that inspired Amy’s poem ‘Loneliness’ with her memorable image: ‘loneliness is a lamp without a lampshade’. Michelle Green’s work on performance and breathing techniques has developed everyone’s confidence in reading and performing their writing. A big thank you goes to Writing on the Wall. Without the encouraging conversation a year ago with Mike Morris, I wouldn’t have applied for the funding, and I’m proud to be a part of their What’s Your Story? series. A star of this project has been Shay Garry. His tireless work encouraging our young carers, chauffeuring them to the workshops, always on hand with toast and crisps, really demonstrates the vital role of support workers and the wider work of charities like Family Action. The true stars are the participants themselves, who have dedicated time to their writing amidst their responsibilities at home, as well as their school and college work. So a big thank you and congratulations to Tobija, Amy, Chloe, Arron, Brit, Reko and Chrissie. Zoe Lambert
ii
1
Silly Boy! Silly Boy Prison 3 times in 4 years. Age 16 back in at 19 Never learns! Silly Boy Many things, like Gate crashing parties. Breaking into bungalows, Down on coffee road! Never learns! Silly Boy Wearing his trackies in his socks With a BB, wearing a hoddie Thinks he’s a bad man, Or a wannabe gangster Never learns! Silly Boy 6ft6 Likes boats, jet skies, Or vandalizing barges. Back in prison 6th time. Never learns!
1
Silly Boy Stealing sunglasses, Stealing ray bans, Robbing IPhones, Snatched a women’s gold chain. Never learns! Silly Boy Thinks he’s a rebel, Taking drugs like weed or sniff, Back alleyways or tunnels. Never learns! Silly Boy Always out of his head, Always saying ‘Standard’, ‘Init’ and ‘Nar Man’ Never learns! Silly Boy Nearly 30 odd, Needs to grow up Needs to sort his life out, Needs to be a man, Before it’s too late This silly boy will never learn! Brittany Franz
2
Yeah She’s Dead, She’ll Live! Yeah she’s dead, she’ll live. It wasn’t my fault, honest, She was just there and it happened. The whole situation started when I came downstairs Looked in the fridge and my chicken was missing. I asked my girlfriend where it went, She said she ate it! Oh, everything turned, That was the turning point! No one can prove anything, so yeah I’m safe! I only killed my girlfriend over chicken, Jamaican Jerk Chicken! Honestly. I’m the kindest, caring person in the world, So what if she’s dead, she’ll live! It wasn’t’ my fault, I stabbed her 32 times. Like I said she was just there. The reason I stabbed her 32 times was It’s my favorite number. I would never do anything like that, Even though I hid her body, And cleaned all the evidence and blood! Like I said yeah, she’s dead she’ll live I can’t help it if people get killed, Especially her! She shouldn’t of been in my fridge. Eating my chicken! Oh well, she’ll live and everything will be ok! I didn’t just stab her 32 times, 3
And kill her cos she ate my chicken. Oh no I wouldn’t do that. I laughed when I did it though! I thought it was really funny. Oh well she’s dead, she’ll live. She was all over the news, And they couldn’t find her. Oh yeah that’s my girlfriend who I killed! No one is ever going to find her! Like I said yeah she’s dead, she’ll live. Brittany Franz
4
News I could talk all day long about the news Giving you the current events and my views I could talk all night long about a song Giving you the pointers on where you are going wrong I could talk all year long about the net And sending you the links I think you haven’t seen yet I’d like to tell you things that I think you’ve never heard but there are no words I could talk all day long about dreams Sowing up your heart so you never see a seam I could talk all day about politics All of the corruption clean hands and dirty tricks But what can I say About something that blows me away Without it sounding like another cliché From what I have seen and have heard When it comes to you girl there are no words Ye I swear this much is true There aint a word in this world that describes you I could talk all day long about life After so many wars how we are all still alive I could speak all night long about the world How it took me 30 years just to find one girl 5
I could shoot shit for days all about guitars A Gibson or a Fender depends on who you are But when I try to say something that you’ve never heard There are no words I could burn your ear off all about space Why we have a moon, the moon has a face If the earth is spinning why we are all still in place Why can’t we walk it’s got to be a space race But what can I say That’s going to blow her mind away Trying to write a classic not a throw away All I’ve seen all I’ve heard When it comes to you there are no words There are no words Ye I swear this much is true There aint a word in the world that describes you Ye I swear this much is true There aint a word in the world that describes you There are no words to describe or define What’s inside you, you’re feeling your vibe Believe me I’ve tried to break you down to a science I see you in my mind and I open my mouth and its silence I can articulate a Shakespeare poem Even though I didn’t know him I can see where he was going And where he’s coming from I can even catch his flow 6
And then I think of you I don’t know where this metaphor is going Cause there are no words that you can understand, only lovers can You can ask the professor and the madman If they couldn’t find the words no one can All I’ve seen all I’ve heard When it comes to you there are no words Ye I swear this much is true There aint a word in the world that describes you Ye I swear this much is true There aint a word in the world that describes you Arron Parker
7
Tears of a Hero This soldier walks a lonely road no one knows when he’ll get home the heart break of a lonely soul just wanting the comfort of his own home and as the tears of a hero fall down on the soft white snow As he fights through the mists you just notice the tears of a hero, tears of a hero his queen and country are proud as he fights through dark cloud his tears drop to the ground tears of a hero. He feels this cold all around is white snow just trying to find his way home a soldier cold weak and exposed these are tears of a hero tears of a hero he walks down this lonely road not knowing where to go, tears of a hero trying to find his way home he cries tears of a hero he feels pain wishing for the comfort of love again as he climbs out of his crap tent where his medals hang he didn’t know what they meant anymore. He soon found himself in a far off land a hostile location with shifting sand he would write home to guard his plight he didn’t want worry in the middle of the night. 8
He tried with all his might to stop him crying throughout the night. His work was hard there was cause to fear he put his faith in those he held dear he had made new friends however brief an unanswered bullet with sudden grief. He feels this cold all around is white snow just trying to find his way home a soldier cold, weak and exposed these are tears of a hero tears of a hero he walks down this lonely road not knowing where to go, tears of a hero trying to find his way home he cries tears of a hero he feels pain wishing for the comfort of love again as he climbs out of his crap tent where his medals hang he didn’t know what they meant anymore Heading home soon consumed his thoughts he cherished the idea as he lay on his cot hoping his loved ones had not forgot his mother’s cherry pie had entered his mind he missed them all they were one of a kind. There were days firefight would breakout we need a medic the Sargent would shout the enemy was rooted like before counting bodies was no easy chore the body count was rising more and more.
9
He feels this cold all around is white snow just trying to find his way home a soldier cold weak and exposed these are tears of a hero tears of a hero he walks down this lonely road not knowing where to go, tears of a hero trying to find his way home he cries tears of a hero he feels pain wishing for the comfort of love again as he climbs out of his crap tent where his medals hang he didn’t know what they meant anymore By the trenches he holds his breath waiting for his eventual death he feels the fear crawling up his neck he didn’t know what to expect his fear reaches his heart inside and suddenly begins to cry tears of a hero. He feels this cold all around is white snow just trying to find his way home a soldier cold weak and exposed these are tears of a hero tears of a hero he walks down this lonely road not knowing where to go, tears of a hero trying to find his way home he cries tears of a hero he feels pain wishing for the comfort of love again as he climbs out of his crap tent where his medals hang he didn’t know what they meant anymore. The sandy dunes beat them down the military standard boots sink into the ground 10
enemy soldiers all around action is sure to go down the assault team make their mark the enemy sees Private Ryan in the dark before they knew their position was made and the tears of a hero rolled down his face. He feels this cold all around is white snow just trying to find his way home a soldier cold weak and exposed these are tears of a hero tears of a hero he walks down this lonely road not knowing where to go, tears of a hero trying to find his way home he cries tears of a hero he feels pain wishing for the comfort of love again as he climbs out of his crap tent where his medals hang he didn’t know what they meant anymore. Arron Parker
11
Little Soldier Do you know, little soldier, Just what you face? Put down your guns. Meet the city pace.
Left Right Left There’s no war here to fight, No enemy to be slain. Take off your armour. Play the civvy’s game.
Left Right Left God save you, soldier Feel the pain in your wounds. There are no more orders! It’s time that you moved.
Left Right Left You can take the soldier from the battlefield But not the battlefield from the soldier March on, little soldier March on, March on.
12
Left
Left
Left
Right
Left. Christine Robertson
13
Poison Mind Another night of normalcy Dinner, TV, Friends. And then…
I play the harlot to keep them away. I can’t fall in love. I can’t fall in love. I can’t. I have lost. I have lost. It’s not better to love and to lose. It’s not. Don’t tell me I will find love. I will run. I. will. run. I’m sorry. It’s not my place. I shouldn’t burden you with my chaos with my hurt with my anguish pain guilt.
Support. Don’t you EVER apologise for sharing your feelings. I believe in you. Are you okay? 14
I want to be a porcelain doll.
That’s creepy. They’re creepy. Why? Perfection. I want to be perfection.
I look in the mirror. I cringe. I turn away. I’m too wide. That shouldn’t hang there. How have I left myself become this? Fat.
Ugly.
Alone. You don’t need to be perfect. Yes I do. I need to puke. I need to puke. I need to puke. I
NEED
TO 15
PUKE. I need to expel the poison from my gut. It burns. It hurts. Why do I allow this consumption of things that destroy all I want?
WEAK. WORTHLESS. UNLOVED. why why this
Reassurance. Comfort. A stream of tears drowning self-loathing despair. I’m broken. Beyond repair. Why do you take the time to fix me?
It’ll just happen again. A flood of emotion greeted by mental silence. Finally. 3:21am. I can sleep. Christine Robertson
16
A Story Foretold From Her Torn Soul Diary. School is where her body is used like a football. Kicked to the ground and thrown against the lockers in the corridors. Every day‌ every single day. School is where books are flung with fierce force out of her frail hands. smashed to the ground. Her bullies laugh when she is around. She felt her hands are tied-bound. None of it would stop. It was every day. Every single day. The canteen is where her lunch money is stolen; her food snatched and left to rot in bins. Her stomach is wounded and swollen. Ravenous... her body is dying, every single day. With every single second of misery, an hour of horror and a day of pain, she endured as the time grew, She had enough of what she was going through. Nobody could see her; she is engulfed in an invisible ball. Stare out, her ball is mirrored for it is only herself she eyes. Stare in, impossible, it's opaque like on a winter's night. Home isn’t where the heart is, for she creeps to her room. Every single day. Her earphones plugged into her ears to isolate her from the world. 17
Her family treat her differently. No food. No money for entertainment. No clothes are washed. Every. Single. Day. Her wrists are not the same as they used to be; No longer clean. No longer perfect. Pain is her only friend now. The night witnessed her goodbye. This should not have been the way, oh the poor girl‌ Her soul is set free and now longer would she know of pain that she felt. The pain that she felt, every single day. Reko Smith
18
The Tale of Two: The Unexpected Affairs My granddad and grandma have separate rooms in the retirement home. The staff said it was because of ‘health and safety’ reasons. Denying my grandparents sharing a room when they have been married for a long time is ridiculous. My grandparents both said they were visited by a friend called Miguel. He seemed nice as I met him a couple of times. I guess my grandparents were completely alone. Miguel would visit them separately, which in my mind, seemed quite odd. I never understood the bond between my grandparents. It was something that was unique to them. We all thought so at the retirement home. When I visited my grandma, I asked why they had separate rooms, assuming it was because of health and safety. She said granddad had once cheated on her. She was sitting in her rocking chair by the window when she said this. The window was open and a breath of fresh air could be felt inside her small room - her curtains would sway constantly. She said, ‘If truth is always better than a lie swallowed by truths, so truths are better than lies. oh why won’t he admit he had done wrong all those years ago?’ ‘Who was it gran?’ I asked, ‘Who was the person that granddad had an affair with?’ But she just stared outside. She wouldn’t tell me. I left her in her silent room, to speak to my granddad in the communal area. He was on his own, sitting in the corner with a chair by his side where grandma used to sit. ‘Granddad,’ I said. ‘Why would you do that to grandma? Why cheat on her? - She just told me then!’ ‘It isn’t what you think,’ he responded.
19
I’d had enough of his closed replies, he never would say something straight, so I said, ‘Oh yeah, then what is it?’ ‘I went to the Grand National after that mess in 1962 when I thought I was a goner with them Soviets wanting to kill us. It was tense enough as it is! I gambled all my money away that year. I thought at the races I’d make a lot of money to make up my gambling mistakes. Your grandma was at home. But when I came back she wasn’t there. She told me she had an ‘emergency’ meeting with her boss. At 8pm and she had an emergency meeting? Must be kiddin’ me.’ ‘Can you get to the point’, I said. ‘Just be quiet, you're as inpatient as your mother’ he said. ‘Listen. I had met someone at the races that day. I’d won £50 back and that was a lot. By god the films were only 1p so you lot have it hard nowadays. The person I met lost all their money at them races. 'Old Jack Buck, 25, passes the last hurdle and finishes last place'. I saw their downfall and for some reason, I couldn’t understand the way I felt. It was like I could feel their pain, like me losing that gambling money. 'Here it is, this time I will get them lucky triple sevens'. Never did. At that moment when I seen this person fall to the ground, it felt like love at first sight.’ ‘Who was this woman?’ ‘Well, I…’ ‘Will you stop mumbling,’ I said. ‘It’s not what you think.’ ‘Well what was it?’ ‘The person I saw was a man. Yes, I fancied a man.’ I couldn’t believe it. My granddad had basically told me he was bisexual.
20
‘I told him to come the day after to the Grand National, and when he did, he said he had feelings for me. I was just married to your grandma, but I started to see this man instead. Your grandmother was somethin' back in the day - I'll tell ya’. Grandad stopped speaking. I could see he was upset. He closed his eyes, and sat still. I thought about my grandma. He’d said he had come home that evening and she wasn’t there. It didn’t seem right that she had an emergency meeting. I wanted to know who my grandma truly was. What is she hiding? So I went to find her again, in her room. She was staring outside, as per usual. ‘Gran, where were you when granddad came home from the Grand National in 1962?’ My grandmother just stared into my eyes. ‘I was with someone else,’ she said. ‘For God’s sake,’ I said. ‘Are you being serious? What was his name?’ ‘Miguel,’ she said. ‘Wait, the guy who visits you? And he’s the one who comes to the retirement home and visits granddad too.’ ‘He does?’ She didn’t seem happy about this. I went back to granddad. ‘Who was this guy at the Grand National?’ He sighed, and I knew it. I knew who it was. ‘His name is Miguel,’ he said. ‘Don’t you know he visits gran too? She also cheated on you with Miguel.’ My granddad’s eyes looked lost. He looked away from me. He clearly wanted me to leave. Never have I heard silence as much as in that communal area and my gran's room. 21
I left the retirement home and came back a couple of days later. My granddad and grandma were both sitting in their chairs in the communal area, with their hands wrapped around each other’s. They told me Miguel was no longer coming back, after what he had done. I was happy for them both. They were able to forgive each other. They went back to their separate rooms. But as I walked out of the retirement home, someone who looked like Miguel walked past me. I thought nothing of it. I was just happy my grandparents were together again. All’s well, end’s well, right? Reko Smith
22
Loneliness Loneliness is the lamp with no lampshade. It is the single soul in a big white room. Loneliness is the dark in everyone’s light, the feeling that there's nowhere to turn, the feeling that you should hide everything you can give to the world. Loneliness takes you down, down a dark hole that holds secrets you wish you could unsee, but you can't, it won't leave you. It follows you around, sitting on your shoulder whispering your worst fears, they echo, echo, echo... 'GO AWAY!' you scream, but the deafness of loneliness is something yet to be defined. Loneliness is wanting to speak but enclosing your words in an unopenable box that resurfaces at all the wrong times, making words pour out like vomit and making your insides churn.
23
Loneliness drives you insane, it takes you into an evil world that you can never go back from. They lock you away, like you do with your emotions. Only then are you truly alone. Loneliness becomes you... Amy Stephens
24
Dear Bully Dear bully. Do you remember me? Yeah didn’t think so. Why would you? Just because I was like your chore. Something you had to do every day. Something you would torment and beat. Something you would not even think of later. I was just another point in the stupid little game you played with your friends But I suppose….. I don’t blame you. You didn’t have the sense. You didn't have the balls to be your own person. You didn’t have the integrity decent people had. So I should really say, I feel sorry for you. Well I felt sorry for you back then. So the whole reason of this letter is. To just say…… I forgive you, And I thank you for what you did, Because without your insensitive actions. I would not be the person I am today. Chloe Sutton
25
My Illness day of endless struggle, more hopeful pills today. trying to appear normal! in some sort of way it seems that the struggle is always here with me and I wouldn’t be here now if guilt would leave me be I know there’s been many who’ve had it worse than I but that doesn't always mean I wouldn't say goodbye people say I have a lot going for me but to be honest they don't see me I can’t see because my worst enemy is not life but me always on a roller coaster not much consistency I’m nothing if I’m not up or down I’m nothing if just me
26
very little energy wanting to stay in bed wishing to be enthusiastic instead of feeling like lead wanting to exist wanting to care for more but when nothing makes sense it’s focus on the poor cluttered mind cluttered thinking it’s hard to keep in touch with what’s happening around me and not worry too much I feel that everybody's better than me and that I can't do anything right this is how I’ve felt my whole life it didn't just start last night no confidence no self esteem everybody else is right To speak my mind is to be a fool so I just try to sit tight Any one of these problems would be a vice but when you have all of them living seems like a roll of a dice Chloe Sutton
27
TJs Exam ‘You may start’ That feeling ‘oh sh**, This is it’,’ Sitting here like a software conversion WAV -> MP3: format it. No electrical devices allowed ‘This is it’ ‘Let’s do this’ Continuously staring at the 360* clock, constantly thinking when will this end? The pressure, the pain, the anger All my 5 years of hard work comes down to this damn exam Exam: write… write… write more! Don’t you EVER stop writing? Your GCSEs are doomed ‘For life’(x3). The stench of coughs & sneezes, considering that summer was just down the corridor, on the left, then straight down. It irritated me. Myself to sneeze, myself to cough, myself to… get distracted. Please DO NOT get distracted, you’ll lose marks (click! Just like that)
28
This is an EXAM. Not to played with/around, like the MP3s on CDJs You may choose a song selection though… … In your head TJ! Okay, play. (Music plays) Rap part: (Ladies and gentleman, here we go again) Parrs Wood High School, here we go again, It’s time; the final walls are closing in Know for a fact, I’m never doing exams again This is where it all started I can’t believe me & my girl parted Now we left broken-hearted (huh) Don’t lock, don’t stare, and don’t get distracted man (She’s so beautiful, OMG) you got distracted man Distraction; is one way of reaction I don’t have the seconds; I gotta put in the action Brain to my hand, Hand to my pen, Pen to my paper I must write this letter To my friends & family (I hope you’re not mad at me) OR (Keep ‘within’ happy) I/we know we need each other Not as bad as ‘dappy’ 29
Trying to survive this tragedy To be next to the throne But I wanna go home, My daddy’s alone Is this the reason why we all here? Plenty people stare I explain my achievements, They don’t seen to care ‘Be patient my love, you’ll get there’ CON.TIN.U.OUS.LY I’m deciding to myself I start lying to myself I may cry to myself 1 thing I remember to myself ‘Keep your hands & feet to myself’ SIT.U.AT.IONS You don’t wanna do no self-harm You gotta stay calm You gotta stay strong Just know that ‘life moves on’ TJ, don’t flinch Don’t even move an inch …inches into, Time… tick… tock… (Looking at the 360* clock) 30
STOP!! [Music Stops] ‘Hand in your text books’ Hand in your written paper Go and have a break I’ll see you later. It is done My exams are over Till it’s over but it’s far from over. Tobija Wilson
31
YO Shak!! Yo Shak, My friend! Rolling along like A chain… chain? Bicycle: you break it, you fix it. Like a necklace, links between one END to another Down at the 101 bus stop at McD’s brav! The smell of oil like 20 year old sweets! (But) ‘narr Man’ Girls are deceiving; he spoke within the strength of pedals … Being pushed Like the chain? Being stretched out as far as it could. Now that’s how Shak feels, down at the 101 bus stop. Oh my days! The chain is getting loose, Chain? Bicycle: you break it, you fix it The chain between girls and… Shak Will never get tired Shak needs to ‘calm down brav’ (LEAVE IT YEAH) Or else, he will get … Fired, fired, fire!! Burning the oil. Smoke can choke you ya no You see, shak, my friend … The bus won’t stop Bus stop 32
Please stop but, ‘Nnar Man’, it continues to roll Rolling along like a chain. Tobija Wilson
33
34
Afterword from Writing on the Wall It’s been a real pleasure working with writer Zoe Lambert and Family Action for this ‘What’s Your story?’ project with young carers in Manchester. ‘What’s Your story?’ is the flagship project of Liverpool-based arts organisation, Writing on the Wall. It uses creative writing and storytelling to connect people together, develops opportunities for self-expression, and supports participants in developing their skills and their confidence. We hope too that it will encourage them to continue their own writing and take up further opportunities for learning and training. This book is a testament to the ability of these young carers to draw on their own experiences and to also project far beyond into other lives and fictive characters. Their work is funny, forgiving, transformative, rhythmic and entertaining. Like all the best writing it tells some truths, and a few lies, leaves the reader with some questions, and wanting more. We hope too, now they have started their journey, that there will be much more writing from this talented group of new writers. Special thanks to Zoe Lambert for her work on this amazing project; the young writers couldn’t have been in better hands. Mike Morris Co-Director Writing on the Wall
35
Afterword from Family Action When I was approached by Zoe Lambert with the idea of involving some of our Young Carers in a Creative Writing Project I jumped at the opportunity. Zoe had approached other organisations and had been let down but I was determined to make it happen. I volunteered my time found a venue at no cost (thanks to 4CT for the use of the Moss Side Millennium Powerhouse and The Hideaway Youth Project for sharing their venue), and before we knew it we were up and running. My colleagues Neil Clegg and Amanda Hamer were easily convinced also to volunteer their time and without their support the project could not have taken place. Throughout the 3 months that the course has run we have watched the confidence of our Young Carers grow enormously and this was my main motive for getting involved in the project. I am really looking forward to the launch of this book when the Young Carers will get the opportunity to perform their work in front of a live audience. I am privileged to say that I have worked with Young Carers for 8 years now and I am constantly reminded of what a significant role they play within their families. Because of their caring many Young Carers miss out on the things that their peers probably take for granted like just having fun. In our work with Young Carers we aim to give the Young Carers the opportunity to relax and mix with other Young Carers in a safe and fun environment. In addition we are constantly looking for opportunities to get our Young Carers involved in more Targeted Work including First Aid, Cooking,
36
Volunteering, Road Safety and Youth Councils to name but a few. Finally I’d like to thank all those involved in the Project and in particular the 6 fantastic Young Carers who are now able to see their work in print. I am proud of them, I know their parents are proud of them and hopefully as I direct consequence of seeing their work published they will be proud of themselves. Shay Garry Family Action, Young Carers Support Worker
37
38
39