Turn off the Christmas carols and fluorescent lights, low sensory Santa has arrived!
He arrives to his grotto with little fanfare, in a plush red suit and redband gumboots, sitting atop King Tritonās gold and shell adorned throne, on loan from the local KÄpiti theatre groupās recent performance of The Little Mermaid.
Gentle fairy lights (on loan from the council offices) twinkle in a tree next to Santa, and the walls are sparingly decorated with tinsel and baubles.
Santaās helpers for the day are a mixture of council staff and members of the local disability community. Thereās no loud calls of āHO HO HOā from Santa, he speaks quietly with no expectation of eye contact or a reply. There is no age limit, everyone is welcome. There are no queues and no expectations.
Thats how we roll when Sensory Santa is in session.
Many whÄnau with neurodivergent and/or disabled tamariki have experienced failed attempts at enjoying festive events at this time of the year. Visiting Santa at the mall is a sensory minefield, and we often have to decline invites to noisy, crowded school, community and family gatherings that donāt cater for our tamariki particular sensory and physical needs. Itās very demoralising trying to create nice Christmas memories for your whÄnau in environments that arenāt welcoming to our tamariki - so when I had the chance to collaborate with Kapiti Coast District Council on a truly low sensory christmas event, I jumped at the opportunity.
This event came to fruition during a meeting of the KCDC Disability Advisory Group (I am a member) when council staff asked DAGās views on an upcoming Christmas Festival from an accessibility and inclusion lens.
It became clear that due to the venue and nature of the event (noisy parade in a small enclosed environment) that a low sensory zone may not be possible - so they offered to hold a special, separate event. My initial instinct is always to push for inclusion in public events, rather than separate, exclusive/excluded events. But on this occasion it felt like an opportunity to showcase the new award winning Lorna Irene Reserve accessible playground in Raumati South, by using it as the venue for a low sensory Christmas event for families.
I really liked the idea of an outdoors, but safe fenced space where tamariki could play and interact with the celebrations as much as they wanted to. And by the day of the party, the park would feature new bilingual communication boards to support non-speaking visitors communication needs as well.
However TÄwhirimÄtea had other plans, and the decision to move the event indoors at our back up venue (meeting room at Paraparaumu Library) was made a day before.
Myself and Joanne Dacombe, chair of the KÄpiti Disability Advisory Group had created a brief list of tips for Santa and his elves on how they can interact with neurodivergent and disabled visitors on the day. The general message was to be welcoming to everyone, speak in a calm, quiet voice, communicating slowly and sparingly.
I felt a bit grinchy putting limitations on how volunteers spread festive vibes on the day - but as a parent who has braved several christmas parties supposedly for disabled tamariki, I have seen how easy it is to get wrong. When some people think about accessibility, they picture ramps and physical supports. They donāt think about the other senses impacted, and how the way we speak and interact with disabled people and their whanau is just as important - as is every other facet of the physical environment.
There were lots of āwinsā during the 1.5 hour event:
We had pockets of high and low sensory activity, so that visitors could easily find a quiet or noisy space if thats what they seeked.
We had Christmas decorations provided by the lovely folk at Kapiti Art Studio, including a festive train with some of the artists photos included - but no christmas music - because extra noise can be stress inducing, and make coping with a new unfamiliar environment that much harder.
We had sensory minded gifts from santa - play doh, bubbles and art supplies - that you could choose to take (or not) because expectations are often unclear in social situations with people you are not familiar with, so we made sure tamariki felt in control of their engagement with santa. How many times have we seen terrified kids forced to sit on Mall Santaās lap?!
Taine (pictured) enjoyed his very first āface paintingā experience alongside his proud little sister. He had a cheery-faced Santa painted on his forearm - which, his mum tells me, is still there two days later.
A young boy was overwhelmed by the new environment, but his mum was able to take him out to the car to have a break, a snack and a reset, and then return to the party, with no hassle. On his second try he was happy to approach Santa, and mum was able to capture the moment on her phone. She looked like she had won lotto, triumphantly leaving the party with a photo to share, and a positive experience to remember.
The ice cream truck coincidentally had a āvisual aideā in the form of a simplified menu of three ice cream options ā plain, sprinkles or sherbert dipped cones. Sophia (pictured) was able to choose her ice cream herself, with no anxious moments over there being too many choices, or getting something she wasnāt expecting.
I spoke to a mum who was so happy to have - and her child hadnāt even acknowledged Santa! They had spent ages enjoying the bubble machine and drawing with giant chalk on the footpath, went into the library for the first time, before choosing an ice cream and going back to the car with no dramas.
Inside Santaās grotto we turned all the extra lights off, so only natural light and subtle christmas lights lit up the room. Harsh, fluorescent lights can cause physical pain to some autistic people, and can emit a buzzing noise that is upsetting as well. So a softly lit room was perfect, and also an unintentional reminder to visitors that this was a calm space, where we speak quietly and sparingly to keep the āmood.ā
All of the activities and helpers were situated on the outskirts of the room. Families instinctively sat alongside the helpers and played with soft blocks, admired the train themed artwork and fidgeted with a trail of red tinsel and miniature Christmas trees on a table.
When I think back of my own experiences in collaborating with council, as a parent, a helper and a visitor to this low sensory event, I feel overwhelmingly grateful.
Iām grateful to Cat Wylde, from the KCDC Parks and Spaces team for being open to listening to the disabled community and for saying āyesā where so many others might say āno.ā
Santa and his helpers gave their time willingly, and inadvertently created happy memories for some local families by doing nothing more than being welcoming and friendly.
Inclusion feels good. Accessibility feels good. It inhabits a place inside us that connects our heart, our mind and our wairua. Why such an unreachable dollar value is often placed on āaccessible featuresā that are often seen as extra, or surplus to requirement is a mystery to me. We are innately and intuitively inclusive, because we value and nurture connection. Accessibility is a lever for inclusion, as we take steps to make our interactions with those we connect with meaningful as well as enduring.
So if you are reading this and in two minds about creating an inclusive event in any situation, donāt overthink it - just say YES! Be open to suggestions from the disabled community, be flexible with requests, and welcoming of all experiences. Small efforts/accommodations can have huge impacts on families who often feel excluded from festive events.
This so great. Thanks for sharing
This is so lovely! Rekekah it's so good knowing there are good people like you in this world x