The early days of Outsiders and how it all began
In 1978, a colleague of mine, Nigel, had finally lost his sight and all his friends in the process. Also, Patricia Gillan, the sex therapist, called me to say that a 32-year-old man, David (exactly my age), in a wheelchair had come to her with a sex problem. His problem was that he'd never had sex. Did I know of a wheelchair accessible strip club?
Thus, some of my time during that year, was spent taking Nigel to parties to keep his interest up in life, and trying to get David laid. Blindness is my greatest fear, so I couldn't bear to think Nigel could no longer see anything. Sex has always been my favourite activity, so I couldn't bear to think of anyone my age having had none. I had recently suffered a bout of panic attacks after a relationship had ended, and I knew how bad that fear of isolation can feel. It seemed very important to help these two people.
Eventually, with my help, Nigel's social and personal life perked up, and David lost his virginity.
It had been fun and pretty effortless, but made all the difference to these two. It struck me that there must be thousands of other people with disabilities who could, with hardly any effort, have their lives transformed. I told David, who didn't have much else to do, that he should start a club, and call it 'Outsiders'. He thought it was a great idea.
I was determined and found an amazing girl called Vieta, who was as enthusiastic as myself. She came round to my house every day for several years, helping to set 'Outsiders' up. We wrote to Katharine Whitehorn to tell her about the formation of 'Outsiders'. She mentioned it in her column in The Observer, and the response was great. We had twenty members straight away, then an article in The Guardian brought two hundred more. I bought a Kalamazoo filing system, each member got a strip, and coloured dots signified the type of problems and romantic aspirations they had.
All we did to begin with, was ask the members what they wanted, and discuss ways in which it could happen. They mostly wanted the same thing - love, but had their own individual approach. We heard amazing stories of past successes and ways and means of dating and seducing, from people with all kinds of disability, including people with no speech and those unable to move at all.
One of my major influences was a member called Alan Barnes, a very severely disabled young undergraduate who wrote me pages and pages of wisdom. Everything I learnt from him, and other members, was written down and made into a booklet called 'Practical Suggestions', which was sent to new members as they joined.
To begin with, we were quite shocking to most people. Up until that time, very little had been spoken or written about the sexuality of disabled men and women. Our willingness to address the topic and deal with it in a practical way, brought sensationalist press, which made us cower, and wonder if perhaps we should pretend we don't cater to member's sexual desires at all. Alan died long ago, but his words keep me determined not to change course one bit:
'The club's value lies, for me anyway, in providing an environment where I might resolve some of my doubts over my sexuality and its implications. Where there are people I can trust sufficiently and with whom, since they acknowledge my sexuality as a matter of course, I can speak frankly and expect from them a response which will be of use, help. Moreover, it provides an environment that does not humiliate and de-humanise, by flinging around in County Halls and social workers' files (at least, as far as I know!) my personal problems. Other organisations dealing with the problems of the disabled, and books which serve to highlight the sexual problems, may bring the concerns to light and raise awareness, but they often shy away from doing more than raising expectations in what is little more than a clinical vacuum. Thus, the club serves an over-all enhancement. It is concerned with sex in its significant place beside emotions and sociability - the important thing is it knows it can't, shouldn't discourage, diminish or try to leave sex out altogether.'
The physically disabled members seemed to think it was very important, for them, that people with learning difficulties should not be included. This was because they'd been assumed to be so because they were physically disabled, and they wanted to have the chance to mingle in a club where this would not happen. So, we made a rule that we would only accept people who could understand and complete our application form, in writing or on tape. Those with social disabilities such as shyness, phobia and mental illness were thus included. Obviously, it was felt important that anyone expressing prejudice against disability, and people who were racist, should not be allowed to join. The application form was discussed, designed and re-worked, over and over, until we were happy that it asks exactly the right questions, to make sure potential members see what kind of club we are, and helps them begin to look at their attitudes to themselves, as the first step towards self acceptance. It also alerts us to applicants who are prejudiced, may have an exploitative motive or condescending attitude. When we have too many male members, we sometimes put new male applicants on hold, inviting them to re-submit their applications at a later date.