Politically Incorrect

Son gave a look of disapproval. I had used an unacceptable word (yet again!). 

Because of swollen feet, a side-effect of pills to inhibit Exon 14 tumours, it was becoming difficult to put my shoes on. I had been wearing mainly walking shoes for some months, but even these had become tight, and I had bruised the side of my ankle making it painful to walk. Shuffling awkwardly, I stepped down heavily and hurt my back. It took three inactive weeks to get better. In the meantime, I finally gave in to nagging advice from our resident family occupational therapist, and bought some wide-fitting, wide-opening Cosyfeet shoes. And cosy they are. I can walk around the village again.  

“I’ve had to get some spastic shoes”, I told my son. 

The thing is, “spastic” was once a perfectly acceptable word. It was not until 1994 that The Spastics Society renamed itself Scope, the charity for people with cerebral palsy. “Spastic” had become a term of abuse, and parents were being put off. Children would call each other “a daft spastic” for clumsiness or mistakes. Just as a word, it sounds effective and humorous. It actually means subject to spasms, and remains in medical use in other circumstances. “Scope” is neutral, but the Society lost public awareness. 

In contrast, Mencap, the society for children and adults with learning disabilities, continues under a name with negative connotations, but everyone recognises what it is. The name went through several changes after the charity was founded in 1946 as The National Association of Parents of Backward Children. “Backward” became another term of abuse. “Are you a bit backward?” was hurled at someone slow to understand a point. 

Many other terms have fallen out of use. Mongolism was the scientific name for Downs Syndrome. Cretinism was thyroid deficiency severe enough to cause confusion and physical changes. They were accepted medical and academic terms into the 1980s. I still have a small book by a professor at the university where I did my psychology degree, an internationally respected authority in learning disability, that contains a table setting out the legal and scientific uses through the years of terms used to describe ‘mental deficiency’, ‘mental retardation’ and ‘subnormality’ according to I.Q. It is interesting that ‘idiot’ denoted the lowest I.Q., with ‘imbecile’ slightly higher, and ‘feeble-minded’ and ‘moron’ above, which does not seem to be the pejorative usage today.

From Clarke, A.D.B. and Clarke, A.M. (1975): Recent Advances in the Study of
Subnormality. MIND (National Association for Mental Health), London. Page 5. 

Such terms were used to discriminate and exclude people from society, irrespective of ability. Until perhaps the 1960s, eugenics, sterilisation, and euthanasia, were openly discussed. Institutionalisation lasted even later, although, with support, many occupants could have lived independently. Alan and Ann Clarke did a great deal to alleviate this by showing what people could do, rather than what they could not. 

Then there are the labels for nationalities, ethnicities, and race. They were not always used maliciously. When a Canadian-born great-nephew turned up on leave during the Second World War, my great-grandfather said that this “Yank” (can I still say that?) had knocked on the door. It was a description, not a judgement. The family put him up for a few days, delighted to hear about their Canadian relatives, and it seemed to relieve some of his anxiety about having to go back to the war.  

Returning to the slang term for Americans, no doubt many will dislike it, and it wasn’t used accurately anyway. I dislike being called a Brit. I am British, or English, or from Yorkshire, but as Brit is now used widely in the British media, and by some British bloggers, I am not likely to win that one. 

National and racial labels are often used to stir up division and hatred. There is a Monty Python sketch about a television show called Prejudice, in which viewers are invited to come up with derogatory names for various nationalities, and contains a section called “Shoot the Poof” (although even Monty Python in 1970 steered clear of race). The sketch can be found online, but some will find it so offensive I am not going to post a link. On watching again, I still find it hilarious. Michael Palin as the awful show host is brilliant, but as with the comedy series ‘Till Death Us Do Part’, not everyone sees that the laugh is at and not with the holders of these views.  

I misused one of these words in frustration. If you saw my feet you would see why. I’ve got some spastic slippers as well now. 

John Merrill, Alport Castles and the Horbury Cut

In the days when every town had a bookshop, with several in larger towns and cities, you would find shelves full of walking guides written and published by a chap called John Merrill. He produced over 500 titles, initially about Derbyshire and Yorkshire, but later about other parts of the country too, such as The Lake District, The Isle of Wight, and Devon. He also became known as a long-distance walker, and walked the 6,824 miles around the coast of Britain, the 4,260 miles across America, and marathon walks in other parts of the U.K., Europe, and the world. He just wanted to go walking, and found a way to do it full-time. 

One of his first books, possibly the first, was about the Peak District around Kinder Scout and Bleaklow. My friend Neville bought it, and one interesting-looking route was around Alport Castles off the A57 Snake Pass road. Alport Castles is the biggest landslip in the United Kingdom, so called because from the valley below its gritstone mounds look like castles. The largest is known as The Tower. 

The Tower, Alport Castles, with Alport Castles Farm in the valley below
Geograph, (c) Neil Theasby 3 February 2012

Alport Castles route (click to enlarge)

I think Neville and I first went in 1974. Merrill suggested parking at the side of the Snake Road where a style in the hedge accesses the lane to Alport Castles Farm. After passing around the farm, the route ascends behind The Tower and up on to Alport Moor. It then crosses the moor via the Alport trig point to the head of the valley, and makes a large high-level anti-clockwise semi-circle across Bleaklow to return to the starting point. We found it pretty tough, and on later occasions returned directly down the valley from the point marked on the map as Grains In The Water. Sometimes we went up the valley first, and on two occasions I remember climbing up from Howden Reservoir. It became a favourite walk which I did with Neville or others, or alone, in all kinds of weather, from warm summer days when you could sit quietly on the peat moor and bask in the sunshine, to cold wet days when there was so much water up there it was almost impossible to find a way across. This, as you may know, is Yorkshire Pudding territory and he has written about it several times. 

Neville and Dudule descending the Alport Valley
with Alport Castles on the hillside above, August 1975

Neville plods up through snow towards The Tower, February 1977

and eventually reaches the moor top, February 1977

The top of the Alport Valley near Grains in the Water, August 1975

Not all of John Merrill’s routes were in such wild and bleak places. When I moved back to Yorkshire with Mrs. D., over 30 years ago now, we bought his “Short Circular” guides to walks in south west Yorkshire. Soon, we had done so many that Mrs. D. was able to send away for a John Merrill walking badge that until recently was stitched to her small rucksack. 

The River Calder near Horbury Bridge

I remember a September morning not so long ago when we did a quiet route east along the banks of the River Calder from Horbury Bridge to Calder Grove, fighting our way back through the rampant vegetation along the Horbury Cut of the Calder and Hebble Navigation. Barges were moored at the lock where the canal joins the river, and hallucinogenic fly agaric mushrooms grew under the trees. The route is also memorable for forbidding footpaths that tunnel under huge railway embankments, and one built into the railway bridge across the River Calder. Of course, Pudding has also been there too. Is it possible to go anywhere he hasn’t?

The footpath built into the railway bridge across the River Calder

The Horbury Cut on the Calder and Hebble Navigation

Hallucinogenic Fly Agaric Mushrooms grew under the trees

Back home, I wondered what had become of John Merrill and looked him up. There was a site for his books to which I sent a short email expressing how much we had enjoyed his guides through the years, and that although we had had the Horbury Bridge book for at least 20 years, we were still able to find our way. He had also found his way. In replying to thank us, he said he had been ordained as an independent multi-faith minister of religion in London. Clearly, all that walking brings you closer to God. Yorkshire Pudding had better watch out.