My name is Nici. I am in my late 30s and live in Ayrshire, Scotland. I was born in Southern England but moved North about 13 years ago.
I am Deaf and a BSL user. I also have Auditory Processing Disorder and am Autistic. I also use SSE when I am trying to vocalise with anyone who doesn’t know BSL to try and cue my sentence structure more English than BSL.
I have Dystonia and I am a full time wheelchair user. I have been a wheelchair user for about 10 years. I lost my mobility gradually due to Dystonia and eventually lost the ability to safely walk.
I have quite a few interests I would like to tell you about. I am a volunteer with my local Sea Cadet Unit (holding rank of PPO.)
I train in Judo (green belt) Karate (white belt) and Taekwondo (2nd Dan Black Belt.)
I train in Karate and Taekwondo in my wheelchair. For Judo I don’t use my wheelchair but train in groundwork with the help of my coach who adapts the syllabus as needed.
I also dance with a local dance theatre company and am a member of a local community choir where I use a combination of BSL and SSE as they sing. Additionally, I am learning to play snare drum with a local Pipe Band!
I earned my 1st Dan Black Belt in 2011 before I became physically disabled. When I became a wheelchair user I initially stopped all my sports and physical activities as Disability sports were out of my price range.
I then found mainstream (able bodied) clubs who were willing to let me join them. I earned my 2nd Dan Black Belt as a wheelchair user and have for a number of years been part of Team GB Para Poomsae squad.
I competed at British Taekwondo Nationals in P50 (wheelchair class) for 4 years and won Gold each time.
I spent a long time trying to find a way to adapt a one legged stance technique for a Poomsae and last year I successfully managed to perform this one handed, balance castor flip during formal competition.
I also found a dance class who didn’t mind that I was a wheelchair user and allowed me to join. I enjoy the challenge of adapting able bodied dance for my wheelchair.
There are also many dance moves I can do in my wheelchair that able bodied dances could never manage – like castor flips and spins.
Earlier this year I was able to perform in a dance show for the first time in my life. The show was based on A Monster Calls and I was cast as one of the Monsters.
I danced with my class, adapting their moves for my wheelchair and I also used BSL to sign all of the Monsters spoken parts whilst others spoke the words It was an emotional roller-coaster to be on stage for the first time but I enjoyed the challenge.
Not hearing music has never been a problem as I feel it instead. I feel vibrations when I dance or play the drum. It is just a different way of connecting to music than hearing people would.
I want to challenge the perception that wheelchair users and Deaf individuals can’t dance to a high level. I want to show that true inclusion means thinking what can a disabled person do that able bodied can’t and to just embrace everyone’s abilities.
As a wheelchair user there are no formal dance qualifications open to me as the governing bodies do not make reasonable adaptions for wheelchair ballet, for example.
I would say the biggest barrier for me is being Deaf. BSL is my first language but very few people sign. The fact I can talk sometimes (however this changes due to my Dystonia) also goes against me, as people can at times understand me, so they assume I understand them.
I do not wear hearing aids. They would not work for me. I honestly think people forget I am Deaf and without BSL rely on lip reading which is difficult and not accurate.
I accept most of the world will never learn BSL and I can’t get interpreters most of the time so I try my best to communicate in English.
Another barrier I face is that people see my wheelchair and assume I must be incapable of doing so many things purely because I am disabled. My wheelchair in fact enables me, it allows me to be as independent as I can.
I wish more people were aware that you don’t need to bend down to talk to a wheelchair user. It is actually very awkward and intimidating.
Whether you are signing or talking you can stay stood up. There is also no need to touch someone’s wheelchair.
Most people are surprised my wheelchair doesn’t have push handles and they ask how anyone pushes my chair. The simple answer is they don’t. I propel it myself.
Being Autistic and Deaf is also difficult because I miss so many social cues and misunderstand. In the hearing world there are many things that people see as offensive that just aren’t meant that way in BSL.
Despite these challenges I have been inspired by all of my coaches who have become friends. They saw something in me well before I believed in myself.
I also feel encouraged by those who try to communicate and understand me and take the time and patience to accept my good, my bad and everything in-between.
It is now my ambition to study at the Royal Conservative Scotland. I am currently exploring the options and looking at three different courses.
I feel that studying at the RCS would allow me to gain qualifications but also grow as an individual and help raise awareness of what is possible
For other deaf people who use wheelchairs that may be reading this, I would like to say it is important to find something you enjoy doing and to find people who see you rather than any disability.
People can’t ignore your disability and there is no shame in needing adaptions. What matters is that they see you as an individual and want to include you.
Don’t be ashamed to ask in advance about whether places are wheelchair accessible, or whether there are disabled toilets and parking. If you know you can then plan ahead and it takes a lot of stress out of situations.
Going forwards, I want to be able to teach disability dance in the community. I would like to allow others to experience the connection and joy of self expression. It is my ambition to encourage others to dance, sing and play music in a way that they can physically feel connected to it and free.
Written by Nici Russell
Posted on November 21, 2024 by Rebecca A Withey