A wonderful thing about children is that they are extremely accepting of disability. This is not to say that they are not interested in the differences between people – they certainly are, much to the embarrassment of their parents! But what parents often don’t understand is that their child’s innocent captivation with differences is very rarely a problem for the disabled person. I’ve had plenty of kids stare with undisguised curiosity at my wheelchair, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s not surprising. After all, how often do they see an adult in what must look to them like an over-sized buggy? (Indeed, I often imagine them wondering “How come that grown-up gets a pushchair when Daddy and Mummy say that I’m too big for one?”). Of course it’s intriguing! In the same way, my mother tells a story of her own fascination when, at the age of five, she saw a black man for the first time. This was something new, something different – and therefore, of course, something particularly engrossing. Her parents were mortified, but it soon became clear that the man himself was quite happy to talk to her about his skin colour and explain that the difference was literally only skin deep! In the same way, disabilities are really only skin deep, and children can be quick to understand this – quicker than adults, often.

For my own part, the only occasions I’ve been distressed have been when parents have dragged children away, as if I’m contagious. I understand that the parents are trying to do the right thing, and are worried that their child might be seen as rude or offensive. But honestly, any parents reading this, please know that most people with disabilities are quite used to being looked at by small children. Disabled people can generally distinguish between innocent child questions and adults being intentionally rude. From a personal point of view, I use it as a chance to educate and reassure the next generation that really I’m quite normal, despite the wheelchair – a lesson which may well be as important as anything they learn at school. Indeed, my mobility scooter is a positive attribute as far as the children at my son’s pre-school are concerned. The other day I over-heard a little girl ask her mother whether she would get one!

The controversy last year about CBeebies presenter Cerrie Burnell shows clearly that some parents are far less accepting of disabilities than their children. And they underestimate their children’s capacity for understanding, so they simply deny their child the chance to learn. The idea that children would be ’scared’ of Cerrie because she has only half of her left arm says considerably more about the parents than about the children. It is quite likely that some young watchers may ask their parent “Why does that woman only have one arm?” but why not? It’s a valid question, and, if answered matter-of-factly can be a positive insight into disability. I can’t help suspecting that the parents who complained are those who are scared of talking to their children about it. They project their own fear or ignorance onto their children.

Children find the world a fascinating place, full of people and things that they have never seen before. They are open to everything, because to them, it is all new. But they learn their “filters” of what is “good” and what is “acceptable” from their parents. If parents are obviously uncomfortable by the sight of people with disabilities, their children will pick up on this and be equally distressed (just as a fear of spiders is often passed down from parent to child). However, all too often the parents say “You see? I told you that my child would find it scary!” without recognising that their own reaction is responsible. The fact is, if parents treat disabled people as… well, people – their children are likely to do the same. A disability can be viewed the same way we view someone with different coloured hair, or different height. It is part of who they are. Parents teach their children that people look different and it’s okay: a wheelchair or a missing limb is just another way of looking different. Try explaining that just like Grandma wears glasses because her eyes don’t work so well, this man uses a wheelchair because his legs aren’t so good.

It’s difficult for adults. We were probably brought up not to stare at people who seem different to ourselves. The greater visibility, these days, of people with disabilities means that we are more often faced with the challenge of how to behave towards them. Ironically, it is our very politeness that makes life difficult: we want to treat people with disabilities ‘correctly’, yet we aren’t really sure what ‘correctly’ is. I’m disabled, but it doesn’t mean I have a psychic affinity with people with all sorts of disabilities: I’ve had to learn to adjust my thinking too, as I’ve become more aware of disability and the different forms it may take. We are all learning with each encounter, but as long as we pass on what we learn to the next generation – and they do to us – we’re not going to go too far wrong.