Technology is often talked about as something complicated. People think about the latest gadgets, technical skills, or being “good with computers”.
But for David, technology is something much simpler. It’s part of everyday life.
Like many people, David has routines that help him relax and unwind. Most evenings that means listening to favourite music through his iPad, watching familiar programmes, or simply enjoying some quiet time in a way that feels comfortable to him.
These small routines help David relax after a busy day and enjoy the things that matter to him. They may seem ordinary, but they are an important part of everyday life.
For David, technology is not really about devices. It’s about comfort, familiarity, and having control over everyday choices. Sometimes that means choosing music to listen to while relaxing at home. Other times it means deciding what to watch, when to watch it, or simply enjoying quiet time independently.
At Options, person-centred support is at the heart of what we do. Through opportunities to make choices, pursue interests, and build confidence in everyday life, people are supported to live in ways that work for them.
For David, having the freedom to follow routines that matter to him and enjoy the things he loves helps him feel comfortable, settled, and in control of his own day.
This is about more than technology.
It is about choice, independence, and recognising that the ordinary moments many people take for granted are also part of living a full life.
Because inclusion is not only about access to opportunities. It is also about recognising people’s interests, routines, and the everyday choices that help make them who they are.
A question for all of us
This Learning Disability Week, we’re asking people to look beyond assumptions.
Do you see someone using an iPad?
Or do you also see someone making choices, enjoying favourite music, following routines that matter to him, and living life in his own way?
Sue’s PIP appeal became more than a benefits process. It was a moment of self-advocacy, confidence, and making…
What does a full life look like?
A full life looks different for everyone.
For some people it’s having a place to call home.
For others it’s travelling independently, pursuing a passion, finding paid work, building confidence, or helping others.
Throughout Learning Disability Week, we’re celebrating the people, experiences and opportunities that help make every person’s life uniquely their own.
For some, it is about earning money. For others, it is about routine, confidence, independence, or feeling part of a team.
For Adam, work is an important part of everyday life.
Having a paid job gives Adam the opportunity to contribute, build relationships, and be recognised for the skills and qualities he brings to the workplace. Like many people, work is part of his routine and helps provide structure, purpose, and a sense of achievement.
Employment is often about much more than the tasks themselves. It can create opportunities to learn new skills, meet new people, and grow in confidence over time.
Through his role, Adam has continued to develop his experience and independence while becoming a valued member of the workplace. The relationships he has built and the responsibilities he has taken on demonstrate what can happen when people are given opportunities to succeed.
At Options, supporting people to pursue employment and achieve their goals is an important part of what we do. Through encouragement, opportunities, and practical support, people are able to build confidence and take steps towards the future they want for themselves.
This is about contribution, opportunity, and being recognised for what you can do.
Because a full life is not only about having support when you need it. It is also about having opportunities to work, build confidence, and play an active role in your community.
A question for all of us
This Learning Disability Week, we’re asking people to look beyond assumptions.
Do you see someone in paid work?
Or do you also see someone building confidence, developing skills, contributing to a team, and creating opportunities for the future?
Sue’s PIP appeal became more than a benefits process. It was a moment of self-advocacy, confidence, and making…
What does a full life look like?
A full life looks different for everyone.
For some people it’s having a place to call home.
For others it’s travelling independently, pursuing a passion, finding paid work, building confidence, or helping others.
Throughout Learning Disability Week, we’re celebrating the people, experiences and opportunities that help make every person’s life uniquely their own.
In 2020, Options was awarded funding from NHS England to produce and publish our 5 Steps to Health booklet, all about supporting good health for people with learning disabilities.
Download our full booklet, or our accessible Easy Read guide, to find out more about:
Health Action Plans
Reasonable Adjustments
Hospital Passports
Sepsis and Pneumonia
The Mental Capacity Act
Downloads
Full Version
Our A5 standard version is also available in hardcopy.
As the Chief Executive of Options for Supported Living, I spend a significant portion of my life navigating the intersection of human rights and local authority processes. It’s a space where the most profound aspirations for a “full life” often collide head-on with the hard machinery of government finance and procurement.
There is one word that consistently grates on my soul, popping up in tender documents and strategy papers like a stubborn weed: “Lot.”
“Lot 1: Supported Living for Learning Disabilities.” “Lot 2: Complex Needs.” “Lot 3: Bootle [or add geography of choice]”
To a procurement person, a “lot” is a convenient way to divide a contract. But to those of us who advocate for the dignity of the people we support, the word is a dehumanising put-down that needs to stay in the auction house and out of social care.
The Language of devaluation
Wolf Wolfensberger taught us that the language we use to describe people isn’t just “semantics.” It shapes how society perceives them and, crucially, how we treat them.
When we categorise, support provided to other people as “lots,” we are subconsciously – or perhaps explicitly – treating people as commodities. The last “lot” I bid for was a collection of pre-owned Lego bricks where the boxes have been lost. By using this word about people, commissioning processes demean those who draw on support and reduce the unique circumstances of individuals to a simplified system of price per unit.
This language also forces organisations to think differently. Frankly, I do not want to ‘bid’ for a ‘lot’ involving people that contribute to our community or may do in the future. I am simply a peer, and Options is here to serve and support others. Yet here I am, in a position of power, preparing another tender and deciding which ‘lots’ to ‘bid’ for, rather than getting to know people and trying to establish whether we can aid someone to live a happy and fulfilling life.
The lack of care in Social Care language.
Last year we had a visit from Tricia Nicholl, who spoke to all of Options’ organisational leaders. She spoke brilliantly about the power of “Gloriously Ordinary Language.” Tricia reminds us that when we hide behind jargon, we lose the human story.
Our own Christine Bithell talks in this podcast about words that make us pause and think. Top of my list might be ‘lot’
Nobody wakes up in the morning and says, “I hope my life is well-managed within Lot 3 of my current framework agreement.” When commissioners use the word “lot,” they are choosing the language of business over the language of the living room. It creates a professional distance that makes it easier to cut costs and harder to see the person. Personally, I want a home, a friend, and a sense of purpose. I want to be treated with dignity and respect. I believe that I share these fundamentals with every other human, whether they access support or not.
The language of citizenship not procurement
Last year, John O’Brien passed away. John was one of the pioneers of what supported living should be and has been a test for everything we do at Options. If you look at John’s framework of “Five Accomplishments” (Presence, Choice, Competence, Respect, and Participation) not one of them is compatible with being part of a “lot.”
You cannot foster Respect while using language that treats people like inventory.
You cannot encourage Choice when the very structure of the contract groups people into rigid, impersonal blocks.
You cannot develop Presence when support staff are at the whim of a process in which they or the people they support have very little agency.
David Hingsburger says that the most powerful thing we [as the wider social services system] can do for disabled people (I would say all people) is to protect their humanity. Using the word “lot” is a subtle but persistent chipping away at that humanity. It signals that the system cares more about the ease of the tender process than the individual identity of the citizen.
From Process to People, from Provider to Partner
Those who have recently heard me speak publicly will know there needs to be a wholesale change in ‘commissioning’. I have been questioning whether commissioning itself is the problem, as it leads us to this commercial, contractual way of thinking.
I understand the pressures of local government. I know the legalities of the Public Contract Regulations. But nowhere in the law does it say we must sacrifice our empathy on the altar of procurement speak.
But let’s assume though we cannot be radical enough to rip up the rule book. How do we make the rule book work better?
My understanding of the new(ish) Procurement Act [2023] is that it was designed to give commissioners more flexibility to move away from rigid, transactional models. We can pursue outcomes that are mutually beneficial for the local authority, the provider, and, most importantly, the person. Herein lies both a better life and cost saving. The two are not exclusive of each other.
For this to happen, the relationship between person, provider and local authority needs to change. Co-production needs to be more than just lip-service; and providers treated as strategic partners rather than procured delivery agencies, especially in new neighbourhood and place-based thinking.
This systemic shift won’t happen if we are still using the language of the auction house. We cannot achieve “strategic partnership” if we are still bidding for “Lot 4.” Real change starts with reframing people within the commissioning process.
At Options, we refuse to see the people we support as anything less than equal citizens. It’s time the language of commissioning caught up with that reality. Let’s leave the “lots” to the car auctions and start talking about people again.
Kev Peacock – Options CEO
What words do you think we should banish from the social care dictionary?
This winter, our community came together to help create something lasting and we want to say a heartfelt thank you!
Through our 2025 Winter Appeal, supporters helped us take meaningful steps towards creating an accessible garden designed for and with the people we support. A space where everyone can take part, all year round.
For many people with disabilities, access to outdoor space hasn’t always been straightforward. Uneven ground, narrow paths or a lack of seating can turn everyday moments into barriers. Thanks to the generosity shown during the appeal, we are now able to move forward with plans for a garden that removes those barriers – with raised beds, level pathways, sheltered seating and space to grow.
This garden will be more than a green space. It will support confidence, connection and wellbeing. It will offer opportunities for shared activity, quiet moments, learning new skills and enjoying time outdoors – all in a way that reflects choice, independence and belonging.
Inclusive outdoor spaces matter. They help people stay active, build routines, connect with others and enjoy the simple pleasure of being outside. By supporting the Winter Appeal, our community helped turn an idea into action and laid the foundations for a space that will be part of everyday life for the people we support.
Thank You
We are incredibly grateful to everyone who donated, fundraised, shared our message or supported the appeal in other ways. Every contribution played a part in moving this project forward. Thank you for being part of this journey and for helping us build our garden for all seasons.
What happens next
Now that the Winter Appeal has closed, our focus is on turning these plans into reality. Over the coming months, we’ll be progressing design work, preparing the space and working alongside the people we support to shape a garden that truly reflects how it will be used.
Stay connected
Your donations enable us to create and support vital projects like this. We’ll be sharing regular updates as our plans come together. Keep up to date by following us on social media or sign up to our monthly email.
Krista has been involved with the garden since the early days in June, when the plot was still overgrown and full of potential. She arrives most weeks, ready to help with whatever needs doing. She has become one of the people who knows the plot best, and her presence brings steady energy and enthusiasm to the space
For Krista, the garden is not only a place to grow vegetables. It is a place where she can be herself, learn new skills and feel part of a community that values her contributions. She attends independently, which is an important part of her confidence and autonomy. The volunteers greet her by name, and she feels safe and welcomed every time she steps through the gate.
One of the most memorable moments in the garden so far was the day the group built the new raised beds. We had received recycled wood from a colleague, and the plan was to make beds that would help improve access for everyone. Krista jumped straight in, eager to help. She took measurements, held pieces in place and learned how the structures fitted together.
It feels good to be outside, surrounded by people who care about the same things.
When she picked up a power tool for the very first time, there was a moment of quiet pride. It was a simple action, but it represented something much bigger. It was confidence. It was trust. It was the feeling that she could do something new and succeed. The team around her celebrated that moment, not because the task was completed, but because she felt empowered.
Since then, Krista has been part of almost every stage of the garden’s growth. She waters the plants, helps with general maintenance and encourages others to join in. She has seen the space transform from an overgrown plot to a place filled with opportunity and connection. She has also become a natural guide for people who visit for the first time.
Krista says that she loves coming because it feels good to be outside, surrounded by people who care about the same things. She wants the garden to be a place where everyone feels included, and she often talks about what we can plant next season or how we can make the space even more welcoming.
Her story shows how powerful shared projects can be. With the right support, the right environment and the right opportunities, people can discover strengths they never realised they had. The garden has given Krista a place to grow, not only as a gardener, but as a person. And she brings that confidence back into the world beyond the allotment, which is exactly what this project is all about.
Every week, Barry arrives at the Edward Kemp Community Garden with a smile, ready to see what has changed since the last visit. He is one of the most committed people involved in the project, and he is often the first to greet volunteers, staff and the people we support. For Barry, the garden is more than a place to grow vegetables. It is a place to grow confidence, connection and a sense of belonging.
From the beginning, Barry made it clear that he wanted to be involved as much as possible. He enjoys being outdoors, meeting new people and being part of a community project that has a real purpose. The only difficulty is that many gardening tasks are harder to complete from a wheelchair. Uneven ground, low beds and limited access meant that he could join in socially, but he could not always participate in the practical tasks he was most interested in.
Despite this, Barry never missed a week. He helped where he could, offered encouragement to others, and brought humour and warmth to every visit. Volunteers often say that the garden feels different when he is there. You can feel the sense of teamwork and shared purpose.
“His determination inspired the next step in the development of the garden.”
Using recycled wood donated by a colleague, people we support and staff worked together to build a wheelchair accessible raised bed. Barry was involved from the very beginning. He chose the location, offered ideas and watched proudly as the structure began to take shape. The first time he was able to reach into the bed comfortably, without barriers or limitations, was an important moment for everyone.
Now Barry is beginning to take a more active role in growing and caring for the plants. It is still early days, and there is still a lot of work to do to improve access throughout the whole plot, but this small change has opened up a new chapter for him. It shows what is possible when we remove barriers and work together with people rather than around them.
Barry often says that what he loves most is the feeling of being part of something. Being outdoors. Sharing a laugh. Learning something new. And knowing that this garden will keep growing, just like the opportunities within it.
We’re delighted to share a heart-warming moment from The Creative Craft Show at Birmingham’s NEC, held this past March, one that offered a beautiful glimpse into what a better world truly looks like.
Sarah, who lives with a mild learning disability and autism, had her time to shine as she stepped confidently onto the catwalk to present her stunning “Coat of Many Colours.” In the weeks leading up to the event, her anticipation and happiness were contagious, and when the moment arrived, she was filled with joy.
Her coat was a dazzling, hand-stitched patchwork of vivid colours and thoughtful detail that captured the imagination of everyone watching. It wasn’t just a fashion statement; it was a powerful celebration of creativity, individuality, and belonging. Surrounded by fellow creatives from Quilt Stitch Social, Sarah lit up the runway, reminding us all that true beauty lies in diversity and self-expression.
“The best way to make dreams come true is to wake up and make space for everyone to dream.”
More than a personal achievement, Sarah’s appearance on the catwalk was a testament to what can be achieved when everyone is welcomed, supported, and encouraged to share their talents.
At Options, we strive to create a better world for people with disabilities. In a better world, these moments would not be the exception, but the everyday and thanks to events like this, that world feels one step closer. We’re incredibly proud of Sarah for embracing this opportunity and showcasing her passion. We look forward to seeing where her creativity takes her next!
When we talk about inclusion, we often think of ramps, policies, or support plans. But real inclusion? That happens where everyday life does at the pub, over a pint, laughing with friends.
That’s exactly what Options’ Beer Club represents.
Launched in February 2023 by Christine Bithell from our Community and Inclusion team, Beer Club started as a way to bring people together around a shared passion: craft beer. But it quickly became much more than that. Meeting weekly at the Dead Crafty Beer Company in Liverpool, a group of people supported by Options found not just a good drink, but something rarer, a place where they could belong without question.
And that’s the point.
Too often, society doesn’t see people with learning disabilities in the places most of us take for granted. In the pub. At the football. Out dancing. We forget that inclusion isn’t about separate spaces it’s about being welcome in the same ones. Beer Club says, we’re here, and this space is ours too.
“Real inclusion happens where everyday life does – at the pub, over a pint, laughing with friends.”
Two years on, the group has blossomed. They’ve become loyal locals, familiar faces at Dead Crafty, and trusted companions to one another. The bond they’ve built over beers is rooted in friendship, mutual support, and pride. And now, they’re taking that sense of community further afield—exploring pubs across Merseyside and raising their glasses to new experiences.
This is what Learning Disability Week is all about: making the invisible, visible. Showing that people with learning disabilities don’t just want to be included, they are included, they’re active, social, and living full lives. Beer Club isn’t an exception. It’s an example of what happens when inclusion is done right.
So next time you’re at the bar, look around and ask yourself:
For Christine, having her own space wasn’t just about redecorating – it was about reclaiming a part of her life. Living with a learning disability, Christine has faced challenges many don’t see. She once shared a lounge with other people, making it difficult for her to enjoy time in a peaceful space and decorate it to her taste. Christine, who takes pride in her appearance and home, longed for a place that reflected her personality – somewhere calm, welcoming, and entirely hers.
Christine’s lounge was transformed into a beautiful, quiet sanctuary where she could relax, host friends and family, and just be herself. The space also allows for quiet, undisturbed time.
The most touching moment came in December 2024 when Christine received her very first Christmas tree – something she’d never had before. Her advocate, Alison, and a close friend surprised her by decorating the tree while she was out. The emotion in the room was undeniable. It wasn’t just a tree; it was a symbol of how far Christine had come and how much this space meant to her.
Today, Christine keeps her lounge spotless and beautifully arranged. It’s more than just a room – it’s a reflection of her strength, her individuality, and the joy that comes from finally having a place that’s truly her own.