A ticket to write

Journalist Linn Martinussen has had to fight the system in Norway to establish a career in journalism

The man behind the desk put down his pen and sighed.

“You’re sure this is what you really want to do?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I’ve managed to get onto this university course in Edinburgh. It’s meant to be the best journalism course in Britain and my ticket is booked, so I’m leaving in two days.”

“And you’re completely blind. How are you going to manage by yourself over there?”

“I can only try,” I replied. “I’m determined for this to work out.”

“And you’ll go even if you don’t get our support?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I can’t let this opportunity go.”

When disabled teenagers graduate from high school in Norway, they meet someone from a job centre to discuss their future. This can often be a long, hard process. In my case, I had to show that a blind person could do journalism and also live abroad.

In fact, I am only the second or third Norwegian blind person to study abroad.

The job centres pay for your university course if you’re disabled so you don’t have to worry about a student loan. After graduating, they find a work placement for you in the field you’ve been studying in – on a contract but paid for by the job centre. Sometimes when the contract ends, the employer takes the disabled worker on and puts them on salary like its other staff, but more often disabled people find themselves having to go from workplace to workplace. Some even have to re-train, like a blind radio journalist I know who became a physiotherapist when his contract with a radio station ended.

The job centres prefer you to choose the course they think is best for you. I was advised to choose sociology or politics – good courses, probably, but not what I wanted to do.

A friend who has cerebral palsy wanted to study law. Unfortunately, her high school marks weren’t good enough so she had to take a number of one-year courses to get the points she needed. When she was finally accepted by a law school, the job centre refused to pay for her law studies but insisted that she continue with her previous studies instead. She’s now taking her case to court.

Although things are changing, the current system means that disabled people are effectively encouraged to stay on benefits and let their life be planned for them. Everything is a fight if you want to do anything that’s different from what the job centres suggest.

My consultant back in Norway now has a lot of respect for me. When I went back and told him that I wanted to try my luck in London, he gave me a hug and wished me good luck.

My struggle isn’t over yet. I do shift work in Dans le Noir, the restaurant in Clerkenwell, and pick up freelance journalism jobs where I can but I need either a steady freelance contract or a fixed-term contract before I can truly say I’ve made it.

It looks increasingly like I’ll have to leave London in a few months – something I’m sad about, since my life’s here now. Going back to Norway might not be such a bad thing but I’ll have the feeling of having lost – and I want to succeed in London so I can encourage other disabled people who want to do the same as I did and follow their dreams.