Up against the wall

Even when caught between an angry mob and a scary metal wall, Paul Carter insists he's not vulnerable

A good friend of mine pointed something out recently that, to be honest, had passed me by to some degree. Probably because it’s been creeping in so slowly. It’s the increasing prevalence and usage of the word “vulnerable” when referring to us poor, helpless disabled types.

I’m not vulnerable. Come and try and say that to my face and see how vulnerable I am. (Please don’t.)

I’m vulnerable on a Friday night after eight pints. But that’s not because I’m disabled. That’s because I’ve forgotten where I live and what my own name is. And even then I’m less vulnerable than half of the old fellas still at the bar who are one more whisky away from their third liver. This year.

Of course, there are disabled people who are inherently vulnerable, but to sweepingly generalise all disabled people as being vulnerable is ridiculous.

This was brought home to me at the recent protest rally held at the Conservative party conference in Birmingham. I happened to be standing in what I thought was a safe vantage point (more on that shortly) to take some pictures, when I overheard a policeman say on his radio that “the vulnerables” were coming through first. “Cool” I thought. They sound like some sort of pseudo-ironic Trotskyist revolutionary freedom group. Or an 80s new romantic tribute band, I can’t decide which. Then I realised he was referring to the disabled people who were leading the march, protesting against cuts to disability benefits. The vulnerables!

Speaking of the protest, that was pretty terrifying I can tell you. Once the disabled people and the unions had passed, a throng of people with their faces covered came past and started to throng near where I was stood. I ended up getting stuck between a line of police officers making a human chain by putting their arms around each others waists (which looked oddly sweet and out of place) and what I can only describe as a temporary gargantuwall that had been erected behind me. Seriously, I’ve never seen anything like this thing, it looked like something out of Mad Max. It started out as a metal trailer with spikes on the top that then folded out like some sort of twisted Transformer to form a metal wall that blocks off an entire street. It has little portholes in it so the people behind it can peer through smugly at the potential violence and bloodthirsty uprising occurring safely on the other side. I did feel a little like I was stood in no-man’s land. Despite the swelling of angry people holding flares and sticks and shouting, and despite being clearly so very, very vulnerable, nobody checked if I wanted to be moved. Thankfully, I didn’t need to be as it all passed off without anything being lobbed or anyone being lynched by the mob. Which is always nice.