Friendship is something most of us take for granted. Even though I’m naturally shy and introverted, and didn’t easily make friends in the playground, preferring my own company, I now have a wide circle of friends and acquaintances around the world.

Some I don’t see or speak to often, but that doesn’t stop us from picking up where we left off, sometimes 10 years previously. It’s such a joy to be myself with these people.

Each of us will have those friends we know will be there for us, listen to us, support us without judgement through everything we’re going through. We know who are friends are, and those that we can turn to at any time.

My enduring 50 year friendship with husband Malcolm has been the foundation for living for both of us. Equal in the relationship, bringing our time and talents together in love and respect, shared values and outlook on life and the world. Supporting each other to be the best we can be, allowing each of us to flourish in our own ways through work, music and the magical outdoors.

The way that we can share with friends allows each of us to be listened to, offering shoulders to lean on, or celebrate success with. I know who I can talk to, share openly with, and who will offer me the right support to help me traverse life’s mountains and seas – the ups and downs that we all experience as humans.

What about people with learning disabilities?

Jen and friend Peter celebrating

“The best thing of all is friendship – people who value me for who I am” Jen Blackwell

Jen was 28 when she first experienced friendship. She had acquaintances; people who cared for her and about her. But no friends she could talk to or turn to. No-one with shared interests she could be herself with. Everyone knew her, everyone had a kind word for her. From Jen’s perspective she definitely had friends.  In truth, outside the family, no-one phoned her, no-one invited her out for a coffee, no-one sent her a birthday card.

After years of mixing with others in many different environments it became obvious that friendship wasn’t going to magically ‘happen’ of its own accord.  Even with skilled facilitation and significant ‘unstructured’ time spent with other females of her own age with and without learning disabilities, it didn’t happen for Jen.  Their combined lack of social skills presented an insurmountable hurdle to friendships developing.

Until we created DanceSyndrome. The shared interest in dance allowed social interaction in a new way. Not only were people with and without intellectual disabilities connecting regularly to develop dance skills and choreography, but through this interaction social connections started to develop. It’s been one of the most magical impacts of the charity that we’ve had the honour to witness over the last 14 years.

Jen now has a phone full of friends, with shared interests in films, music and martial arts. She regularly meets with her best friend for an hour or two, as well as interacting with other friends on a daily basis.

The change for Jen, and we’ve been told by other parents too, of this impact of connection has been enourmous. The simple human connection has been invaluable for positive mental health. Knowing they can be themselves, liked for who they are and what they love doing. What they do, as a dance collective, is show through public performances on stage or at train station takeovers that they’re proud to be themselves, supporting each other to be the best that they can be. It’s a testament to the confidence developed through the dedication of DanceSyndrome team and the ethos of working together.

Everybody matters and everyone is given the chance to contribute. That doesn’t always happen in other settings, which, I believe, impinges the development of self worth that each of us develops in our lifetime.

Tackling Jen’s underlying need to be taken seriously as a community dancer, to be her own person, unlocked the door to being able to be herself.

Friendships flourish naturally when everyone is treated as an equal, with something to offer,  who are all accepted for the uniquely talented individuals they are whether dancers, parents/carers, employees, board members.  Everyone is there for everyone else.  In my view, this is an unquantifiable benefit of supporting people to live lives of their choosing.

I’m delighted for Jen that she now experiences the absolute joy of real meaningful friendship. An unexpected but very welcome outcome of creating DanceSyndrome – a community where everyone is embraced for their uniqueness.

Friendship is seen as necessary for good mental health, yet so many still aren’t being offered the opportunity to be themselves and find like-minded people to connect with.

Surely it’s time to end the stereotypes and assume that every human can develop friendships, on whatever level of connection that is.