Tag: writing

Celebrating Neurodiversity: Autism’s Got Talent Marks Its 15th Anniversary with an Unforgettable Night at the Mermaid Theatre

Pictures: Tally Nothey and Terry Scott

From breathtaking musical performances and dazzling dance routines to tears, laughter and standing ovations, Autism’s Got Talent celebrated its 15th anniversary in spectacular style. Steven Smith joined the sell-out audience for an extraordinary evening that proved talent knows no boundaries.

It was a night of extraordinary talent, heartfelt emotion and thunderous applause as Autism’s Got Talent celebrated its landmark 15th anniversary at London’s Mermaid Theatre. Playing to a sell-out audience, the spectacular event delivered what was arguably its most moving and memorable show to date, with performances that brought tears to the eyes one moment and had the audience cheering with delight the next. It was a glorious celebration of neurodiversity, individuality and the remarkable abilities of autistic performers, and an evening that will undoubtedly remain in the hearts of those fortunate enough to attend.

There are certain dates in my diary that I look forward to more than others, and Autism’s Got Talent has always been at the very top of that list. It is, quite simply, my favourite time of year. Having watched this extraordinary event grow and evolve, I thought I knew exactly what to expect. Yet this year’s anniversary extravaganza managed to surpass even my expectations. From the moment I entered the Mermaid Theatre in Blackfriars, there was an unmistakable sense of excitement. Families gathered, familiar faces exchanged hugs and performers prepared for their moment in the spotlight. By the end of the evening, the auditorium had witnessed something genuinely special.

Since its inception in 2012, Autism’s Got Talent, the brainchild of the indefatigable Dr Anna Kennedy OBE, has grown from an ambitious idea into an internationally recognised showcase celebrating the abilities, creativity and individuality of autistic children and adults. Over the years, it has attracted considerable media attention, celebrity support and performers from around the world, establishing itself as one of the most uplifting events in the charity calendar.

Unlike conventional talent competitions, however, Autism’s Got Talent has no judges, no eliminations and no disappointed contestants being sent home. Instead, every performer is encouraged, celebrated and given the opportunity to shine. There is no pressure to conform to anyone else’s expectations, only the freedom to express individuality through music, dance, theatre and performance. For some, stepping onto that stage represents the fulfilment of a lifelong dream; for others, it is an opportunity to build confidence, overcome personal challenges and demonstrate talents that might otherwise remain unseen. Above all, it is a celebration of what people can achieve when they are given encouragement, opportunity and the freedom to be themselves.

This year’s 15th-anniversary spectacular pulled out all the stops, bringing together more than 20 acts, including ten newcomers and ten returning favourites. The evening opened with Dr Anna Kennedy OBE welcoming the packed auditorium and introducing special messages from celebrity supporters, including Loose Women star Denise Welch, Blue singer Anthony Costa and former EastEnders actress Kacey Ainsworth. Their messages of encouragement set the tone for an evening that was as much about celebrating achievement as it was about entertaining the audience.

There was, naturally, a generous sprinkling of showbiz glamour. Among the familiar faces giving their time to introduce performers was much-loved ‘Allo ‘Allo! actress Vicki Michelle MBE, a longstanding supporter and patron of the charity. Joining her were Christopher Hamilton and Shimi Goodman of Tiano, alongside former EastEnders heart-throb Tony Discipline and actress Ionica Adriana. It was heartwarming to see established names from the entertainment industry so enthusiastically championing autistic talent. The celebrities may have brought an extra touch of sparkle, but there was never any doubt about who the real stars of the evening were: the performers themselves.

A huge supporter of Anna Kennedy Vicki Michelle MBE

Also joining the celebrations was acclaimed artist Piluca, whose striking mural at the Sidelings Tunnel pays tribute to the charity and its inspiring work. Some of the charity’s sponsors were equally involved in the proceedings, with Mandy Aulak of Talem Law and Ione Inness of SEND Tutoring taking to the stage to introduce acts and speak about the importance of creating opportunities for autistic individuals. Their support is a reminder that events of this scale depend upon the generosity and commitment of organisations and individuals who believe in the charity’s mission.

Award winning performers Tiano

Guiding the audience through the evening were two enthusiastic comperes, Gateway Radio DJ and charity ambassador Aston Avery, alongside former The People’s Strictly contestant and amateur theatre enthusiast Phillip Barnett. Aston, who recently received a prestigious BQF Patrons Award presented by HRH The Princess Royal, brought his customary warmth and infectious enthusiasm to the proceedings. Together, the pair kept the programme moving with humour, encouragement and genuine affection for the performers, ensuring that everyone received the welcome and recognition they deserved.

EastEnders Tony Discipline

And what a programme it was. Performers had travelled from across the United Kingdom and further afield, including Ireland and Hungary, each bringing their own personality, story and extraordinary abilities to the stage. One of the joys of Autism’s Got Talent is that you never quite know what is coming next. One moment you are listening to a beautiful ballad, the next you are watching a dazzling dance routine or cheering along to an energetic musical performance. The sheer variety is part of its magic.

The show opened with PPAS, whose founder, Maggie Paterson, has generously offered scholarships to previous Autism’s Got Talent performers, demonstrating how the opportunities created by the event can continue long after the final curtain falls.

Stevie Little Jays delighted the audience with singing accompanied by Makaton signing, while Lillie Rose Allan delivered a charming rendition of Grace VanderWaal’s I Don’t Know My Name, a song whose themes of individuality and self-discovery seemed particularly appropriate for the occasion. Holli Pandit brought a touch of elegance with her beautiful harp playing, while Macauley Elvin performed Benson Boone’s Momma Song, dedicating the moving number to his family. It was one of those performances that reminded everyone just how powerful music can be when it carries a deeply personal meaning.

The family spirit Anna Kennedy’s regulars the Elvin

Another familiar face was Rich Stevens, a tremendous supporter of the charity who has raised funds through his remarkable walking challenges, including a 50-mile effort this year. Rich stepped into the spotlight to perform The Great Pretender, adding another memorable musical moment to the celebrations.

Walking to West End fame Rich Stevens with his lovely wife Zoe

One of the evening’s most energetic and thought-provoking performances came from The Childish, who had previously joined Anna Kennedy OBE on Nana Akua’s GB News programme to discuss their charity single, This Has to Stop. Highlighting the devastating consequences of knife crime, the song carries an important message for young people and communities. Performing the complete single at the Mermaid Theatre, the group delivered a powerful and passionate performance that brought the house down. It was a reminder that music can be much more than entertainment; it can educate, raise awareness and give young people a voice on issues that matter.

Aaron Clarke delighted the audience by playing the melodeon alongside his father, Andy, in a touching example of the family spirit that runs through the entire event.

Holly and Hannah joined forces for a lively musical mash-up, while Xander Hall brought his acting and performance skills to the stage with Simply Red’s Fairground. Joshua Scott Crowley injected another burst of energy into the auditorium with an impressive drumming rendition of Uptown Funk, giving the audience every excuse to clap along.

Going Up Funk with Joshua

Sophia Naughton delivered a beautiful performance of Journey to the Past from the musical Anastasia. With its soaring melody and emotional lyrics, the song provided a wonderful opportunity for Sophia to showcase her voice. I was particularly charmed to learn that she also sings in her parents’ pub. Judging by her performance, the customers are certainly in for a treat.

Another performer whose story captured my imagination was award-winning dancer Leila Juhász, who travelled from Hungary to make her Autism’s Got Talent debut. Remarkably, it was not only her first appearance at the show but also her first time travelling by aeroplane. What an adventure, and what a debut! Leila delivered an incredible street-dance routine, bringing confidence, energy and impressive choreography to the stage. Her appearance was a wonderful example of how the event can create opportunities and experiences that extend far beyond the performance itself.

Leila Juhász

André Adams treated the audience to a selection of memorable film themes on the saxophone, bringing a touch of cinematic magic to the theatre, while Alfie Webster took us into the world of Broadway with a musical-theatre number.

André Adams saxophonist with patron Steven Smith Dr Anna Kennedy OBE competes Aston Avery and Philip Barnett

Returning favourite and YouTube sensation Andrew McMurdie had travelled from Ireland to take part in the anniversary celebrations, performing an original composition entitled Memories Are Pictures. During rehearsals, Andrew perfectly captured the spirit of the occasion when he remarked, “There were so many uniquely talented people in one room, like I have never seen before.” His words summed up what makes Autism’s Got Talent so extraordinary. It is not simply about stepping onto a stage and performing; it is about friendship, confidence, opportunity and being surrounded by people who celebrate you for exactly who you are.

Andrew McMurdie

Yvie Bent also impressed with her rendition of Quiet, a song by Jonathan Reid Gealt, adding another emotional moment to an evening that moved effortlessly between uplifting entertainment and heartfelt reflection.

Sadly, Kieron Lee was unable to attend because he was unwell, but he was certainly not forgotten. He sent a special message, and the audience was treated to footage of his much-discussed appearance on the BBC’s The Assembly, during which he performed for former Scottish First Minister Nicola Sturgeon. It was a lovely way of ensuring that Kieron remained part of the anniversary celebrations, even though he could not be there in person. Kieron also created a special 15th-anniversary compilation video celebrating the event.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDZhPfdRXm4

Another performer who demonstrated the remarkable diversity of talent on display was Daniel Docherty, who travelled from Ireland. A talented powerlifter with an impressive operatic voice, Daniel proved that physical strength and musical artistry can sit beautifully alongside one another. His appearance was yet another reminder of why we should never make assumptions about people’s abilities or place limitations on what they might achieve.

As the evening progressed, the atmosphere inside the theatre became increasingly emotional. There had been laughter, cheers, wonderful surprises and moments of genuine tenderness, but nothing could have prepared me for the extraordinary finale delivered by Atypical with Attitude. I have attended countless theatrical performances and charity events over the years, yet I can honestly say that their beautifully choreographed dance numbers were among the most moving I have witnessed.

Aston Avery and Philip Barnet compares with the rock of the show Lisa Robins .

The performance was dedicated to Kim Stygall, the late mother of dancer James, and what followed was a profoundly touching tribute filled with love, remembrance and emotion. Every movement seemed to carry meaning, and the sincerity of the dancers was almost overwhelming. It was not simply a display of technical skill but an expression of grief, affection and the enduring bond between a mother and her child. There was barely a dry eye in the house, and I certainly struggled to hold back the tears. As the final moments unfolded, the audience responded with heartfelt applause, recognising not only the artistry of the performance but also the courage and emotion behind it. For me, it was the defining moment of an extraordinary evening, and one I shall remember for a very long time.

At the heart of all this is, of course, the remarkable Dr Anna Kennedy OBE, whose tireless determination, passion and commitment have transformed Autism’s Got Talent into the much-loved celebration it is today. Over the years, Anna has become one of the most recognisable voices championing autistic individuals and their families, helping to create opportunities, challenge misconceptions and encourage greater understanding. Yet perhaps one of her greatest achievements is the extraordinary sense of family she has built around Anna Kennedy Online. It is a family that continues to grow, celebrates every achievement and understands the importance of allowing people to be accepted for who they are.

Super star voice

Reflecting on the event and her hopes for the future, Anna said: “We aim to continue to build Autism’s Got Talent year by year. We want all those involved to have fun, do what they love, make friends, be themselves, and have one night that is all about them.”

Those words beautifully capture the philosophy behind the event. It is not about fame, fortune or winning a trophy, but about having the opportunity to stand proudly on a stage, share your talents and be celebrated. For many performers and their families, the experience represents something far greater than a single evening of entertainment. It is a chance to build confidence, form lasting friendships and create memories that will remain long after the theatre lights have dimmed.

Piluca artist show her painting dedicated to Anna Kennedy online and talks on stage

Anna is also the first to acknowledge that none of this would be possible without the extraordinary dedication of her team, many of whom give their time voluntarily. Among them is Lisa Robins, one of the rocks of Anna Kennedy Online and Anna’s trusted right-hand woman, alongside the show’s stage manager, Fiona Shepherd, whose hard work helps transform months of preparation into the polished production audiences enjoy. A big shout-out also goes to Tally Nothey and Genna Nothey, who did the brilliant marketing for the event.

Anna Kennedy on line team .

In an entertainment industry so often dominated by competition, image and commercial success, Autism’s Got Talent offers something wonderfully refreshing. Here, success is not measured by television ratings, record sales or the opinions of a panel of judges. It is measured in smiles, confidence, friendships, personal achievements and the sheer joy of performing. It is about recognising what people can do rather than focusing on what others might assume they cannot.

As the evening drew to a close and the wonderful performers returned to the stage, the atmosphere inside the Mermaid Theatre was electric. There were beaming smiles, proud families, emotional embraces and applause that seemed to go on forever. Looking around the auditorium, I was reminded once again why I have such enormous affection for this event. It brings people together in a way that few other occasions manage, creating an atmosphere of authenticity, generosity and genuine celebration.

Fifteen years after Anna Kennedy first set out to create a platform for autistic talent, the event continues to grow, inspire and change perceptions. And if this spectacular anniversary celebration proved anything, it is that the future of Autism’s Got Talent is every bit as bright as the remarkable individuals who make it possible.

As I left the theatre, still thinking about that extraordinary finale and the many unforgettable performances I had witnessed, one thought stayed with me: the world would be a much kinder, more understanding place if we celebrated one another’s differences with the same enthusiasm and generosity that filled the Mermaid Theatre that night.

Because talent does not come in one shape, one size or one particular form. It comes from individuality, passion, determination and the courage to be yourself. And on this remarkable evening, every single performer was a star.

Fifteen years of talent, fifteen years of friendship and fifteen years of breaking down barriers. And judging by what I witnessed, the best may still be yet to come.

As the Anna Kennedy Online family would say, “You’re all amazing, and we all rock!”

Roll on Autism’s Got Talent 2027. Whoop, whoop!

Steven Smith is a journalist, author and patron of Anna Kennedy Online.

For further information about Anna Kennedy Online and Autism’s Got Talent, visit annakennedyonline.com.

Piluca Art donated to Anna Kennedy obe ,

Tags art, health, LGBTQIA, London, music, Review, reviews, Theatre, writing

Columns Culture Health and Fitness Lifestyle People Uncategorized

Diary of a Hernia Diva

“Just like a prayer, I’ll take you there “

Madonna Hernia too

It is not just global superstar diva Madonna who has been diagnosed with a hernia. After an agonising pain in my groin that very nearly brought me to my knees, I too discovered that I had joined the hernia club — a membership I certainly hadn’t applied for.

Suddenly, I was well and truly knocked out of my groove. I went from gym bunny to couch potato almost overnight. There would be no Vogue-ing for me for a while.

So here is one diva’s tale of overcoming the pain, indignity and unexpected challenges that come with having a hernia.

I admit that, at 65, my activity levels sometimes make my 26-year-old nephew groan.

“I’m exhausted just watching you,” he says, shaking his head.

I’m rarely out of the gym or sitting still for very long. Add to that a busy social and work life and people often ask me, “How do you do it?”

Well, unexpectedly, it all ground to a rather spectacular halt.

I was dashing with my nephew to catch the Tube at Victoria station when, completely out of the blue, a pain shot through my groin. It was so sharp and sudden that it felt as though someone had stabbed me.

“What’s wrong?” my nephew asked as I doubled over.

Then, almost as quickly as it had arrived, the pain disappeared.

I was left standing there slightly shaken, but we were due to leave for what promised to be an amazing trip to Spain in just a day’s time, visiting one of my closest friends. Surely a little groin pain wasn’t going to stop me?

Later that day, however, the discomfort returned, accompanied by a strange tiredness. But being me, I decided that a few cocktails, some Spanish sunshine and the sea would have me right as rain. I would still be the soul of the party.

And, of course, I was.

I even managed a divine two-and-a-half-hour walk along the Marbella seafront. Pain or no pain, this diva was not giving in without a fight.

But underneath the bravado, I knew something wasn’t right. And like any self-respecting male diva with access to Google and an overactive imagination, naturally I feared the worst.

Having been registered at the same GP surgery for around 20 years, I rarely seem to see the same doctor twice. Once back in London — and while simultaneously dealing with the stress of the airline losing my luggage — I managed to secure that rarest of modern treasures: an actual GP appointment.

I saw a lovely female doctor. With the problem being in the groin area, it was already slightly embarrassing, but almost immediately she began asking about my sex life.

“What sex life?” I joked.

She didn’t laugh.

“When did you last have intercourse?”

Then came questions about my HIV status and other sexual-health matters.

“I abstain,” I replied, by now becoming slightly irritated.

Every avenue seemed to be explored except the one word that eventually mattered: hernia.

That came almost at the last minute.

The doctor disappeared to seek advice and returned saying that it could indeed be a hernia. More worryingly, if there was any possibility that it was a strangulated hernia — a potentially serious complication — I needed to go to A&E.

“Don’t worry,” I was told. “You just need some blood tests and an ultrasound. Take this letter and they should fast-track you.”

Famous last words.

During the hours that followed, I met four other people who appeared to have fallen for a similar line.

Now, this is absolutely not about knocking the NHS. As God is my witness — and all that Gone with the Wind stuff — I remain incredibly grateful that we have it. But dear God, in this age of technology, surely we have to find a better way of managing A&E departments.

Why should people routinely have to sit for four or five hours waiting? There must be a better system.

I have visited hospitals in countries such as Thailand where, if you knew nothing about the healthcare system beforehand, you might wrongly expect something rather old-fashioned. The reality can be the complete opposite: modern, efficient and surprisingly streamlined.

A London A&E waiting room, meanwhile, can occasionally feel like its own form of theatre.

At one point, I encountered a rather terrifying character who suddenly shouted at me like the male version of Catherine Tate’s Nan:

“What the hell is wrong with you? You look like you’re off for a night out. I’ve never seen such healthy people!”

Charming.

Anyway, around five hours later, the very reason we should celebrate the NHS finally appeared in the form of a doctor.

He was excellent.

After examining me and reading the GP’s letter, he looked slightly puzzled and asked why on earth I had been sent to A&E in the first place. They didn’t even perform the particular ultrasound I needed there.

But his advice proved invaluable.

Rather than potentially waiting weeks for the scan, I decided to pay privately for an ultrasound.

And sure enough, there it was.

A hernia.

Suddenly, the stabbing pain, the discomfort while walking and the strange sensation in my groin all had a name.

Then came one side effect I certainly hadn’t expected — an apparent increase in my male libido.

Now, before anyone rushes off in search of a hernia in the hope of spicing up their love life, I should point out that there doesn’t appear to be medical evidence that a groin hernia actually increases libido. It may simply have been that, with pain, pressure and irritation in an area packed with nerves, I had suddenly become far more aware of that particular region of my anatomy.

Either way, confined increasingly to the sofa, banned from the gym and temporarily deprived of my usual bouncing around, it was reassuring to discover that while the hernia may have slowed me down, it certainly hadn’t switched everything off.

Still looking good — just moving at a slightly more dignified pace.

And unfortunately, my hernia story was only just beginning…

The guilty party

When the Hernia Took Charge

Despite everything, I was still trying to dash around as though nothing had happened.

My hernia, however, had other ideas.

I only had to walk so far before the pain would suddenly kick in and become so intense that I could barely put one foot in front of the other. On one occasion, it became so bad that I found myself clinging to a wall, seriously considering calling an ambulance.

For someone who is normally fiercely independent, constantly on the move and more likely to be found in the gym than lying on the sofa, it was frightening.

Nothing highlighted just how much my life had changed more than a journey home from my pre-operative assessment.

By what felt like a combination of luck, divine intervention and a minor miracle, I had been given a date for surgery. Even more impressively, the staff at Chelsea and Westminster Hospital were carrying out pre-operative assessments on a Sunday.

My assessment was incredibly thorough. Blood tests, an ECG, questions, checks — the lot. Everything seemed fine and, reassured, I headed home.

That was when I realised I had overdone it.

By the time I reached the Underground, the pain was excruciating. I found myself gripping the wall just to stay upright. Two incredibly kind men stopped and asked if they could help me, but there really wasn’t much anybody could do.

I simply had to stop, wait for the pain to ease and somehow get myself home.

The severity of the pain had already made me seek a private surgical opinion. Because the pain seemed disproportionate to what had been described as a relatively small hernia, an MRI was suggested to rule out another cause.

At around £1,300, however, that was simply not within my budget.

Besides, the hernia still needed repairing. My thinking became very simple: deal with what we know is there first. If the pain continued afterwards, then we could investigate something else.

And so, finally, the big day arrived.

Operation Diva

29 September. 7.30am.

Check-in time.

I arrived at Chelsea and Westminster Hospital full of nerves and running on an empty stomach after fasting overnight. Thankfully, I was still allowed clear fluids until two hours beforehand, which meant one thing was non-negotiable: coffee.

And what an excellent black coffee it was, courtesy of Social Impact Coffee inside the hospital. Frankly, at that hour of the morning, facing surgery on no breakfast, it felt medicinal.

Then I met a lovely nurse called Katalina, who told me to take a seat.

Katalina, incidentally, barely seemed to take a break herself for the entire time I was there. She was constantly on the move, looking after everyone, answering questions and somehow remaining cheerful throughout.

At around 8.30am, the anaesthetist appeared carrying his motorcycle helmet.

Very reassuring. Presumably, if anything went wrong, he had a fast getaway vehicle.

He explained the anaesthetic and the drugs I would be given.

My immediate thought was Edina Monsoon in Absolutely Fabulous: “I want every drug going, and I want them now.”

Joking aside, this was probably the moment when my nerves really kicked in.

Before surgery, the anaesthetist has to explain the possible risks and side effects. Of course, it is important that patients know these things, but when you are already nervous and sitting there waiting to be knocked unconscious, hearing a list of everything that could happen is hardly relaxing.

Did you know about redheads and anaesthesia? Research has suggested that people with naturally red hair can respond differently to certain anaesthetics and may sometimes require different amounts.

Who knew being ginger could even complicate being knocked out?

Around 9.30am, one of the surgical team came to see me.

He was wonderfully reassuring.

I raised my concern about whether I should have had the MRI first, particularly because of the amount of pain I had been experiencing. He explained that size does not necessarily determine how painful a hernia will be. Smaller hernias can sometimes cause considerable pain, particularly depending on what is protruding through the defect and the surrounding tissues involved.

That immediately made me feel better. Perhaps the hernia really was responsible for all this pain after all.

Then came the news that tested even my patience.

The room I had been given was mine for the duration of my day stay because my operation was not scheduled until around 3pm.

Three o’clock!

I had checked in at 7.30 in the morning.

By midday, Katalina suddenly appeared with much more promising news.

“You’re next.”

Music to my ears.

I was instructed to change into the glamorous surgical ensemble — gown and compression stockings. Not quite Versace, but needs must.

I thought this meant I was about to be whisked straight into theatre.

It didn’t.

Meanwhile, I had now gone around 17 hours without food and, whether through nerves, my digestive system staging its own protest, or both, I had been to the toilet about five times.

There is nothing quite like impending surgery for discovering bodily functions you didn’t know you had.

Then, finally, at around 3.10pm, a porter appeared.

This was it.

Unfortunately, there was one more hurdle between me and the operating theatre.

I was on the fifth floor and I have a serious fear of heights. Glass walkways are my idea of hell. Put me on solid ground and I am fine; let me see five floors beneath my feet and suddenly my legs stop cooperating.

The staff arranged a wheelchair.I closed my eyes.

Problem solved.

Or so I thought.

As we crossed a ramp, the wheelchair was pulled rather forcefully and the sudden movement sent an agonising pain through my groin.

By the time I reached the theatre area and was lying there waiting to go under, all fear had temporarily disappeared.

I just wanted the hernia gone.

Lights above me. People moving around. Final checks.

Then the anaesthetic.

And darkness.

“Where Am I?”

Sometime after five o’clock, I began to wake up.

Or at least I think I did.

Everything was hazy. I was extremely disorientated and struggling to work out where I was or what was happening around me.

The operation itself was over.

The surgeon was apparently happy with how things had gone and, surgically, there was no immediate reason why I couldn’t go home.

But the recovery team had other ideas.

I was simply too disorientated.

There followed a conversation between the medical staff about whether I should be discharged or kept in overnight. For a while, it seemed I might still be heading home.

Then the decision was made.

The Hernia Diva was staying the night.

Not quite the glamorous overnight stay I might usually have chosen.

No room service, no champagne, no fluffy bathrobe — but plenty of observations, painkillers and nurses keeping a very close eye on me.

Rain, my nurse, was truly remarkable, and what followed turned into a night to remember.

The man next to me was living with Alzheimer’s and believed there was a conspiracy going on. He thought people were trying to kill and sexually assault him. Adjacent to him was another man in such severe pain that the slightest noise was setting him off, and he began threatening the man with Alzheimer’s.

Then the gentleman with Alzheimer’s went off on a rant about gay sex, despite being heterosexual himself, and eventually the man next to him had simply had enough.

Seemingly, as I nodded off thanks to the magic of morphine, security arrived to remove the gentleman with dementia.

I felt incredibly sorry for him. He was clearly frightened, confused and unwell, but it also seemed that nobody was properly equipped to deal with his level of distress. What he was doing on a general ward in that condition raised some serious questions for me about the NHS and how we care for people living with dementia.

Rain and the rest of the staff were incredible. They even gave me breakfast. However, at certain points during the night, I did wonder whether I was in a hospital or somehow appearing on the set of the prison drama Oz.

Next, the surgeon arrived to discharge me. He was rather non-committal, although everything appeared to have gone well and my discharge papers confirmed that the operation had been completed.

I asked him, “Had there been any complications?”

His reply wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“There are always possibilities. That’s why we tell you about them before and after.”

Well, I was alive.

Then I was given some strong painkillers and told to go downstairs to the pharmacy for the rest of my medication.

Forty-five minutes later, we were still waiting, only to discover that they were over-the-counter medications.

Finally, after a rather bumpy drive home with my adorable friend Remmia, there was only one thing on my mind.

I couldn’t wait to sleep.

And after weeks of pain, worry, cancelled plans, Google searches, hospital visits and wondering whether something else might be wrong, one enormous question remained:

Had the operation actually worked?

I was about to find out….

Tags health, life, Mental Health, surgery, writing

Columns Health and Fitness Lifestyle People

STEVEN’S VIEWZ

It’s Called Show Business, Not Show Politics

By Steven Smith

There is an old saying: it’s called show business, not show friends. Perhaps we should now add: it’s not called show politics either.

If you are lucky enough to have been given a gift, or developed a craft that has made you famous, people are paying to see you perform. They have bought a ticket to hear you sing, watch you act, laugh at your comedy or simply be entertained. They have not necessarily paid to hear your political views or be lectured about the causes you support.

Of course, there is a time and place for everything.

If you are performing at a charity event, then absolutely talk about the charity. Fill your boots! You are there to help, raise awareness and, hopefully, raise money. If you are a singer who has written a commercial song highlighting a cause that matters to you, then sing it. Music, theatre, film and art have always been ways of expressing ideas, challenging opinions and starting conversations.

Look at the brilliance of Bob Geldof, Midge Ure and Live Aid. In 1985, some of the biggest names in music came together for an event specifically created to raise money for famine relief in Ethiopia. The cause wasn’t an unexpected lecture halfway through an unrelated evening — it was the reason everyone was there.

But the audience should know what they are buying into.

Performance artists such as David Hoyle, or artists like Marina Abramović, are different. Their work is often provocative, challenging and designed to make a statement. You go in knowing that you may hear an opinion, be confronted by an idea or even have your own beliefs challenged. That’s absolutely fine — it does what it says on the tin. The statement is part of the performance, and the audience knows that before they walk through the door.

David Hoyle performance artist you go knowing that you will hear is views ie it is what is on the tin.

If an artist intends to turn a concert into a political platform, particularly on an issue that has little or nothing to do with the performance, I believe the audience has a right to decide whether they want to be there. Their views may be the complete opposite of the person on stage, or they may simply want an evening of entertainment without politics entering the room.

There is also nothing wrong with a performer deciding that politics matters more to them than show business. Glenda Jackson is a perfect example of someone who made that choice openly.

Jackson was one of Britain’s most acclaimed actors and a two-time Academy Award winner. In the early 1990s, she stepped away from acting and entered politics, becoming the Labour MP for Hampstead and Highgate in 1992. She remained an MP for 23 years, including serving as a government minister, before leaving Parliament in 2015 and returning to acting.

Whatever your political views, there is something refreshingly straightforward about that decision. She wanted to enter politics, so she stood for Parliament. She did not expect audiences buying theatre or cinema tickets to elect her.

Perhaps one of my favourite show-business stories involves the late, great Dolly Parton and Julia Roberts while filming Steel Magnolias. The cast were shooting in the sweltering Louisiana heat and everyone was complaining — except Dolly. Roberts, amazed that Dolly wasn’t joining in despite the wig, heavy clothes and heat, asked her why.

Dolly’s response was wonderfully simple: “When I was a little girl, I wanted to be famous and I wanted to be rich, and now I’m both those things. I’m not going to complain about it.”

What a fabulous attitude.

There are thousands of extraordinarily talented actors, singers and performers who would give anything for the opportunity to stand on that stage, walk onto that film set or hear an audience applaud them. Perhaps sometimes, amid the fame, money and attention, it is worth remembering just how fortunate you are to have made it there in the first place.

As Dolly understood better than most: enjoy the privilege, do the job — and put on the show.

The recent palaver surrounding the legendary Dame Maureen Lipman also got me thinking. Two actors withdrew from Right Before I Go following her casting, citing disagreement with views she had publicly expressed.

Now, goodness knows, over the years I have worked with people who held views I found horrible. I’ve lost count. But maturity surely means accepting that you can work alongside someone without agreeing with everything they think.

Sometimes you can even change someone’s mind — or they might make you reconsider something yourself.

It’s show business, not show friends. And if you are fortunate enough to be earning your living as an actor, let alone working alongside somebody with decades of experience and talent, perhaps there is something to be gained from the experience even when you disagree with them.

As I like to say: eat it up, buttercup.

Celebrities, like everybody else, have every right to hold strong political opinions. Fame does not take away your freedom of speech. Equally, buying a ticket to see someone perform does not mean an audience has agreed with everything that performer believes.

I wouldn’t expect The Phantom of the Opera to suddenly stop halfway through so the cast could share their political views. Nor would I expect A Midsummer Night’s Dream to grind to a halt for a political speech unrelated to Shakespeare’s play. In much the same way, I don’t expect my plumber or hairdresser to stop halfway through their work to give me a lecture on their politics.

There is another side to this that troubles me: our increasing inability to tolerate people whose opinions oppose our own.

I am a huge advocate of allowing people into my life whose views are different from mine. Sometimes friendship, affection and respect are built on far more than agreeing about politics. As long as somebody isn’t permanently standing on their soapbox preaching at me, I’m perfectly happy to have a lively debate.

What I find far more troubling is the idea of simply cancelling or silencing people with whom we disagree.

There is an old saying: keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. I would adapt that slightly: keep listening to the people you disagree with.

How on earth are we supposed to understand what is happening in society if we refuse to hear opinions we dislike? Silencing an opinion doesn’t necessarily make that opinion disappear. It can simply mean we stop hearing it. Then, suddenly, we are shocked when a movement, idea or political force gains ground that we never saw coming.

Listening is not the same as agreeing.

Social media has also changed the relationship between celebrities and the public. Stars now have direct access to millions of followers and can express their views whenever they wish. If someone wants to campaign, protest or support a cause online, people can choose whether to follow, engage, debate — or simply scroll straight past.

A live performance feels different because the audience has paid to be there.

Please campaign, march, raise money, support charities and speak passionately about the things that matter to you. Debate with people who disagree with you rather than automatically shutting them out. And if politics becomes your true calling, perhaps follow Glenda Jackson’s example and enter politics yourself.

But when the lights go down and the curtain goes up, sometimes we simply want the show.

Steven Smith
Steven’s Viewz

listen to Steven on Gateway radio

https://www.gateway978.com/?s=Steven+Smith+

Tags politics, writing

Columns Culture People

Back in May 2Shades writer Steven Smith Celebrated his Birthday in Style at the Firepit Gallery in London .

Post author By Steven Smith.
Post date 11th Sep 2026
No Comments on Back in May 2Shades writer Steven Smith Celebrated his Birthday in Style at the Firepit Gallery in London .

Picture Andy Barnes Pamela Sharrock , Denise Welch , Steven Smith Vicki Michelle ,

Back in May 2Shades writer celebrated his birthday here is the article that was held back

Pictures by Andy Barnes

Former celebrity hairdresser turned author, writer and broadcaster Steven Smith celebrated his milestone birthday in true glamorous fashion with a star-studded gathering at the much-loved Firepit Gallery in London.

The special celebration was not simply about marking another birthday — it was also held in aid of Anna Kennedy Online, the autism charity that Steven has proudly supported as a patron for the past 12 years. Friends, supporters and familiar faces from the worlds of entertainment, media and charity gathered, despite soaring temperatures, to celebrate a man many affectionately describe as a loyal friend, generous supporter and tireless champion of good causes.

Among those joining Steven for the occasion was Dr Anna Kennedy OBE, founder of Anna Kennedy Online, whose work supporting autistic people and their families has transformed countless lives. Steven has long been a passionate advocate for the charity and has supported many of its flagship events over the years, including Autism’s Got Talent, the Autism Hero Awards, and the Autism & Art Show.

The evening also became a reunion of cherished friendships spanning decades. One of the most touching appearances came from actress and presenter Denise Welch, Steven’s best friend of 45 years. Denise, who recently returned to television screens in Tip Toe, written by Russell T Davies for Channel 4, made time to celebrate the occasion with her long-time friend.

Denise Welch and Anna Kennedy OBE Picture Andy Barnes

Steven first met Denise back in Brighton, when she was appearing in the play Nigeria Falls, and the pair have remained close ever since, supporting one another through the highs and lows of both life and career.

Another familiar face lending support was actress and presenter Vicki Michelle, best known and adored for her role in the iconic comedy series ’Allo ’Allo!. A long-time friend of Steven’s and fellow patron of Anna Kennedy Online, Vicki has been an unwavering supporter of the charity for many years. Whether attending Autism’s Got Talent, judging at the Autism Hero Awards, or supporting the Autism Art Exhibition — even purchasing artwork to encourage autistic artists — her commitment has remained steadfast.

Aston Avery picture Andy Barnes .

Speaking warmly about Steven, Vicki said:

“I have known Steven for years. He is a rock to many and does so much for charity. We love him.”

Also joining the celebrations were the ever-glamorous presenter and author Wendy Turner Webster and her husband, acting favourite Gary Webster, best known for Minder and EastEnders. Long-time friends of Steven and dedicated supporters of Anna Kennedy Online, Wendy and Gary have also lent their time over the years as judges at the Autism Hero Awards, helping to champion extraordinary people making a difference within the autism community.

Picture Andy Barnes Wendy Turner Webster and Gary Webster and Steven Smith.

Guests were treated to entertainment throughout the evening, with talented singer Tilly Aston delighting attendees with a stunning live performance. Meanwhile, DJ Sumz kept the atmosphere electric, ensuring guests danced late into the evening as laughter, friendship and celebration filled the Firepit Gallery.

Picture by Andy Barnes Tilly Aston

As birthdays go, Steven Smith’s 65th was not simply glamorous — it was heartfelt, filled with friendship, and reflected the generosity and kindness of a man who has spent much of his life giving back to others while never losing his sparkle. A birthday to remember, and proof that at 65, Steven Smith still knows exactly how to throw a fabulous party.

Long term friends Marieanne Nanson In red Irene Nanson , Rachel Zisser shades money man Richard Andrews actor Matthew

The evening raised over £1,000 for Anna Kennedy Online — making the celebration not only memorable, but meaningful too.

Denise Welch and Steven Smith.

Home

https://www.firepit.art

Food https://barbrothersevents.co.uk

https://www.channel4.com/programmes/tip-toe

Music SUMZ https://www.instagram.com/soundtraxmusic?igsh=MW94YzdjY2RlM2RmMg%3D%3D&utm_source=qr

Tags health, LGBTQIA, Mental Health, writing

Columns Lifestyle People Uncategorized

Thirteen Years with Anna Kennedy Online: Celebrating 15 Years of Autism’s Got Talent

Post author By Steven Smith.
Post date 11th Sep 2026
No Comments on Thirteen Years with Anna Kennedy Online: Celebrating 15 Years of Autism’s Got Talent

By Steven Smith

Looking through my old photographs brings back an extraordinary collection of memories. But what really stands out among them is my time with Anna Kennedy Online and, in particular, being a volunteer for Autism’s Got Talent. This year marks the 15th anniversary of Autism’s Got Talent, and for 13 of those years I have had the privilege of being involved.

When I first became involved, I could never have imagined the journey ahead. There have been red carpets, interviews, photographs, laughter, a few tears and, above all, some truly remarkable people. What started as supporting Anna and her work became something very personal to me. Thirteen years later, I am incredibly proud to have been asked to become, and to remain, one of the patrons of Anna Kennedy Online.

At the heart of it all is, of course, Dr Anna Kennedy OBE. Anna is one of those people who simply does not give up. I have watched her campaign, encourage, fight for families and create opportunities for autistic people year after year. We have stood together at countless events, and I have seen first-hand just how much work goes on behind the scenes.

We joke that Anna can get you to move mountains, even when you had no idea you could!

Today, the charity is involved in so much more, including Autism & Art, the Autism Hero Awards and many other events and initiatives throughout the year.

But one event has always had a particularly special place in my heart: Autism’s Got Talent. It was through this wonderful event that I really became part of the team.

The name may say “Got Talent”, but this has never been a competition. There are no winners and losers. It is about giving autistic performers a stage on which they can simply be themselves, celebrate their talents and show an audience exactly what they can do.

Over the years, I have watched performers walk onto that stage nervous and walk off absolutely glowing. Singers, dancers, musicians, comedians and performers with talents you could never predict have all become part of its history. Some moments have made us roar with laughter; others have left us fighting back tears.

The photographs here capture just a fraction of my own journey. The hairstyles may have changed — and looking back, perhaps some of the suits should remain firmly in the past! — but my reason for being there has never changed.

I have met wonderful families, performers, volunteers, supporters and fellow patrons. Some have become genuine friends. There is a sense of family surrounding Anna Kennedy Online that is difficult to explain until you have experienced it for yourself.

One of those friendships is with Aston Avery and his family. I will never forget meeting Aston and his mum and dad, Dawn and Keith. We became instant friends, and today I have the pleasure of joining Aston for our monthly show on Gateway Radio in Essex. Aston’s talent continues to blow me away, but equally impressive is his commitment to charity work and volunteering. He is an absolute credit to his family, and watching his journey over the years has been a privilege.

What I also love is how Autism’s Got Talent has evolved. Autism awareness has changed enormously during those years, but there is still so much work to do. Awareness is important, but acceptance, inclusion, opportunity and respect matter even more.

On 10 October 2026, Autism’s Got Talent returns to London’s Mermaid Theatre for its 15th anniversary. It promises to be an emotional night for everyone who has been part of its story.

For me, it will also be a chance to look back over 13 years and think: Where on earth did that time go?

I am immensely proud to have played my small part in this journey and even prouder of Anna, the team and, most importantly, every autistic performer who has had the courage to step onto that stage and share their talent with us.

Thirteen years has given me friendships, memories and moments I will treasure forever. And if there is one thing I have learned from Anna and Autism’s Got Talent, it is never to underestimate what someone can achieve when they are simply given the opportunity to shine.

Happy 15th anniversary, Autism’s Got Talent. Here’s to the next chapter. ❤️\

To sponsor or buy tickets

Tags autism, life, love, Mental Health, writing

Columns Culture Lifestyle People Uncategorized

ART ATTACK

Nelly K at the Firepit https://www.firepit.art

Healing through art Steven Smith chats to Nelly K

Art can be beautiful. It can be decorative. It can make us smile, stop us in our tracks or completely divide opinion. But at its most powerful, art can also start conversations about subjects we sometimes find difficult to put into words.

For artist Nelly K, creativity is about far more than producing something to hang on a wall. It is a way of communicating, challenging perceptions and, importantly, helping to break down the stigma that still surrounds mental health.

After earning her degree in Art from Birmingham University, Nelly began developing a creative path that brought together two things she cares deeply about: artistic expression and social impact.

Her work is bold, thought-provoking and unafraid to tackle difficult subjects. Rather than staying within the traditional boundaries of art, Nelly uses her creativity as a catalyst for conversation and change, exploring mental health and the way it is viewed and discussed within society.

Throughout her career, she has exhibited in local galleries, worked alongside mental health organisations, appeared on podcasts and become involved in community projects designed to encourage greater understanding and inclusivity.

There is also something very human at the heart of what she does. Art can give us a voice when finding the right words feels impossible. It can make the invisible visible and allow someone else’s experience to suddenly feel a little less distant.

Nelly remains committed to the belief that art shouldn’t simply be about personal expression. It can advocate, educate and even play a part in healing.

That immediately caught my attention.

So, for this edition of Art Attack, I wanted to find out more about the woman behind the work. Where does her inspiration come from? Why has mental health become such an important part of her artistic identity? Does an artist have a responsibility to challenge society? And can a painting genuinely change the way we think?

It’s time to meet Nelly K.

1. Nelly, let’s start right at the beginning. Were you one of those children who was always drawing and creating, or did your love affair with art come later?

I think creativity has always been part of who I am. Art became a way for me to express things that weren’t always easy to put into words. Over time, I realised that creativity could be much more than personal expression; it could be a way of understanding myself, connecting with others and exploring the world around me.

My relationship with art has grown alongside my own personal journey. It has given me a voice and, importantly, a way to explore identity, both my own and the identities of the people whose stories I encounter.

2. You studied Art at Birmingham University. What did those years teach you, not just technically, but about the sort of artist you wanted to become?

Studying Art at Birmingham University gave me the space to experiment, challenge myself and really think about the purpose behind what I was creating.

Technically, I learned a great deal, but the biggest lesson was realising that I wanted my work to mean something beyond the visual. I wanted to use art as a form of storytelling and as a way of starting conversations about issues that affect people in real life.

Those years helped me understand that I wanted to be an artist whose work combined creativity with social impact; someone unafraid to explore difficult subjects while still leaving room for hope.

3. Mental health is central to much of your work. Was there a particular moment or experience that made you realise this was something you wanted to explore through your art?

My practice is deeply rooted in my own journey and in the real experiences of people I meet. That authenticity is incredibly important to me.

I became interested in exploring mental health through art because I recognised that people are often far more complex than the labels society gives them. Our emotional wellbeing is influenced by our background, experiences, relationships and sense of self.

Art gave me the freedom to explore those complexities without reducing anyone to a diagnosis or a single story. I wanted to create work that encourages people to look beyond stigma and see the person first.

Nelly at the Firepit https://www.firepit.art

4. Mental health awareness has improved enormously, yet stigma certainly hasn’t disappeared. What frustrates you most about the way society still talks about mental health?

What frustrates me most is that awareness doesn’t always equal understanding. We have become much better at talking about mental health, but people can still feel judged or defined by a diagnosis or difficult period in their lives.

There is no single experience that represents everyone. Our backgrounds and circumstances shape how we experience the world, which is why listening is so important.

I think we need to become more comfortable with complexity and allow people to define themselves rather than having society do it for them.

5. Your work can be bold and thought-provoking. When you begin a piece, do you start with the image, an emotion, or with the message you want the viewer to take away?

Usually, it begins with a feeling, a story or a question. Sometimes it comes from something personal, and sometimes inspiration comes from something I have witnessed or heard.

The image often develops alongside the message. Visual storytelling is a huge part of my practice, and I’m fascinated by the way an image can communicate something that words sometimes cannot.

I don’t want to tell the viewer exactly what to think. I’d rather leave enough space for people to bring their own experiences and interpretations to the work.

6. Art is incredibly subjective. Have you ever created something that provoked a reaction you weren’t expecting, either positively or negatively?

Absolutely. Once you put artwork into the world, you lose complete control over how it will be interpreted. People bring their own memories, emotions and experiences to it, and they may see something completely different from what you originally intended.

That is one of the things I find most powerful about art. Something that begins as very personal to me can take on an entirely different meaning for somebody else.

Those unexpected reactions remind me that art doesn’t always need to provide answers. Sometimes simply making somebody stop, think or feel something is enough.

7. Is there one piece you’ve created that feels particularly personal to you, perhaps one that was difficult to make or that you found emotional to let go of?

The pieces that feel most personal are often the ones rooted most closely in my own journey. Creating them requires vulnerability because you are revealing something of yourself through the work.

We often see vulnerability as weakness, but I see it very differently. There can be enormous strength in allowing yourself to be open.

Letting go of a personal piece can be emotional, but there is also something wonderful about knowing that something which began with you can go on to have a life and meaning of its own.

8. You’ve worked with mental health organisations, podcasts and community projects. Has anyone ever approached you and told you that your art genuinely helped them or made them feel understood? How did that make you feel?

That is probably one of the most meaningful things an artist can hear. When somebody tells me that a piece has resonated with them personally, it reminds me why I create.

My work isn’t about speaking for other people or telling them who they are. I simply want to open a door to conversations that might otherwise be difficult to have.

Knowing that something I created has touched somebody or made them feel less alone is incredibly humbling. Moments like that stay with you.

9. If money, space and practicalities were no object, what would be your dream piece or exhibition to create, and where would you love to see it exhibited?

My dream would be to create a large-scale immersive exhibition that takes people on a real emotional journey.

It would bring together many different voices and perspectives, exploring not only struggle but vulnerability, resilience, healing, joy and celebration. I’d want visitors to experience something rather than simply walk around looking at pictures on walls.

I would love it to be staged in a major public cultural space, but ultimately I’d want it to travel. Art with an important message shouldn’t be restricted to traditional galleries or to people who already feel comfortable entering those spaces.

10. Finally, complete this sentence for me: “Without art, I would…”

Without art, I would be missing one of the most honest ways I know to understand myself, connect with others and make sense of the world.

Quick Fire

1. The most romantic place in London?

My bed.

2. What is your favourite colour?

Yellow. Loud, warm, fun and full of energy — a bit like myself!

3. Best meal you have ever had?

Every meal my mother made.

4. Can you describe happiness?

Happiness is feeling free to be yourself, feeling understood and fully present in the moment. Usually when it’s just me and my paintbrush.

5. Why do you love the Firepit Gallery?I love the Firepit Gallery because it feels like a place where creativity and people naturally come together. It gives artists the freedom to share their voices while making art feel welcoming and accessible. There’s a genuine sense that everyone is invited to be part of it, and I think spaces like that are incredibly important

https://www.firepit.art

Tags art, creativity, health, life, Mental Health, writing

Columns Health and Fitness Lifestyle People

Anna Kennedy’s September Column

Post author By Steven Smith.
Post date 8th Sep 2026
No Comments on Anna Kennedy’s September Column

Hi everyone!

September is already proving to be an incredibly busy month, and I am super excited with the preparations for the 15th anniversary of Autism’s Got Talent, taking place on 10th October.

It’s hard to believe that we are celebrating 15 years of this very special event! Over the years, Autism’s Got Talent has given so many talented autistic performers the opportunity to take to the stage, showcase their abilities and, most importantly, shine.

We are still looking for sponsors to support this year’s Autism’s Got Talent, so if you, your business or someone you know would like to get involved and help us make our 15th anniversary celebration extra special, you can find all the sponsorship details here in 2Shades:

PLEASE BECOME A SPONSOR FOR AUTISM’S GOT TALENT

We are also still buzzing from the huge success of Autism & Art. The response to the exhibition was absolutely wonderful, and it was fantastic to see so much incredible creativity on display.

In fact, it was such a success that Marcus Jake at the FirePit Gallery, with the help of one of our patrons, Steven Smith, has agreed to host Autism & Art again next year!

So, to all of our wonderful artists and budding artists out there, please get painting and creating. You could have the opportunity to see your artwork proudly displayed at next year’s exhibition. We cannot wait to see what you create!

We also managed to let our hair down a little at the gallery with a fantastic karaoke evening. It was a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the birthdays of Marcus Jake and another of our biggest supporters, talented artist and photographer Anne-Marie Bickerton. There was plenty of singing, laughter and, most importantly, a chance to celebrate with some very special friends and supporters.

Letting our hair down at the Firepit gallery for owner Marcus Jake and Anne-Marie Bickerton’s birthday .

Another great moment came courtesy of Aston Avery, who did us proud at Chelmsford Theatre when he was Highly Commended at the BBC Make a Difference Awards.

What a sleek and wonderful awards show it was, with so many impressive and inspiring entries. It was fantastic to see people being recognised for the difference they make within their communities, and we were extremely proud to see Aston receive such well-deserved recognition.

Patron Aston Avery receives his award

Finally, don’t forget to get your tickets for the 15th anniversary of Autism’s Got Talent on 10th October. It promises to be another unforgettable evening celebrating some truly incredible talent.

You can get your tickets here:

Autism’s Got Talent

Thank you, as always, for your continued support. There is so much happening, and I’m looking forward to sharing more news with you very soon!

Anna Kennedy OBE

ANNA’S BOOK REVIEW

La Verdad Sobre el Autismo – Lo que nadie quiere contar

The Truth About Autism – What Nobody Wants to Talk About

By Fernando Cabal

For almost 30 years, I have been campaigning for autistic children and adults and, just as importantly, for the families who love them, care for them and sometimes have to fight very hard to get the right support.

If there is one thing I have learned over the years, it is that there is no single autism story.

Every autistic person is different, every family is different, and their experiences can be very different too.

Fernando Cabal’s La Verdad Sobre el Autismo is not an easy or comfortable read, and I don’t think it is meant to be.

Fernando wants people to talk about a side of autism that he believes is too often overlooked.

We quite rightly celebrate autistic talent, achievements and difference. Through my charity and Autism’s Got Talent, I have had the privilege of meeting some incredible autistic performers, artists, speakers and young people who have achieved things that perhaps other people once thought were impossible.

I will always celebrate those achievements.

However, we must also make sure we don’t forget autistic people with more complex support needs, like my son Angelo, and the families supporting them day and night.

Fernando writes about autistic people who may be non-speaking or pre-verbal, who may self-injure, who need round-the-clock supervision or who will require significant support throughout their lives.

This is a reality for many families, and their voices matter too.

One part of the book that particularly struck a chord with me was the question of what happens when an autistic child becomes an autistic adult.

Autism doesn’t suddenly stop when someone turns 18 or 25.

Fernando challenges systems that diagnose too late, fail to provide the right educational support and then leave families fighting their way through yet more paperwork and bureaucracy when their children become adults.

Although he is writing mainly about the situation in Spain, I know many families here in the UK will recognise some of these same worries.

What happens when education finishes?

Where is the right support?

Where are the opportunities, appropriate services, supported living and specialist provision for those who need it?

Then there is the question that I know keeps many parents awake at night:

Who will look after my son or daughter when I am no longer here?

This is something I have also raised through my petition, and as a mam of two autistic sons, that question is very close to my heart.

There will be parts of this book, including some of its language and arguments, that autistic people, advocates and professionals may disagree with or challenge. That is OK. We do need these conversations.

No one person, organisation, campaigner or author can speak for everyone across such a wide and diverse spectrum.

We absolutely need to listen to autistic voices. We also need to remember those autistic people who cannot easily tell us what they need and who rely on the people who know and love them to advocate alongside them.

For me, Fernando Cabal’s book leaves us with an important challenge.

Inclusion has to be more than a word.

It has to mean something in real people’s everyday lives.

Yes, let’s celebrate autistic talent and achievement.

But let’s also talk about the difficult days, the sleepless nights I shared recently, the lack of services, the battles for support and the worries about the future.

Those stories matter too.

If La Verdad Sobre el Autismo gets governments, professionals and society talking about autistic people and families who sometimes feel forgotten or invisible, then perhaps it has started a conversation that we very much need to have.

Anna Kennedy OBE

La Verdad Sobre el Autismo – Lo que nadie quiere contar by Fernando Cabal was published by Mandala Ediciones in August 2026.

Anna Kennedy OBE
Chairperson

Brook House
54A Cowley Mill Road
Uxbridge
Middlesex
UB8 2FX

Office: 01895 540187
Website: www.annakennedyonline.com
Registered Charity Number: 1143630

https://www.firepit.art

Tags art, books, Poetry, writing

Columns Lifestyle People

THE SCIENCE OF BECOMING: A MEDICAL APPROACH TO SELF-TRANSFORMATION

Post author By Steven Smith.
Post date 4th Sep 2026
No Comments on THE SCIENCE OF BECOMING: A MEDICAL APPROACH TO SELF-TRANSFORMATION

DR JOSEPH CRESPO chats to Steven Smith

THE SCIENCE OF BECOMING: A MEDICAL APPROACH TO SELF-TRANSFORMATION

By Steven Smith

DR JOSEPH CRESPO

Buy The Science of Becoming on Amazon

There are some people whose careers follow a fairly predictable path, and then there are those who take a completely different route. Dr Joseph Crespo certainly falls into the latter category.

London-based Dr Crespo has a fascinating and varied background. Before entering the world of medicine, he studied law and went on to complete an MBA in London, before working in the financial sector as a consultant and analyst. But his story didn’t end there. He made the considerable decision to change direction and retrain as a doctor — beginning a new chapter that would eventually see him working across both NHS and private healthcare.

His medical career has been equally varied, with experience ranging from GP surgeries and urgent care to walk-in centres, out-of-hours services and even HM Prisons. He has also been involved in teaching the next generation of doctors as a GP tutor and clinical examiner, alongside undertaking medical charity work in India.

It is perhaps not surprising, then, that someone who has reinvented his own life more than once should become interested in the science behind our ability to change.

That interest has now resulted in his book, The Science of Becoming: A Medical Approach to Self-Transformation. Rather than simply telling us to think positively or try harder, Dr Crespo looks at personal change through the eyes of a medical professional, exploring subjects including habits, decision-making, stress, sleep and nutrition — and asking how science can help us make changes that actually last.

At a time when social media seems to offer us a new wellness trend, miracle solution or life-changing hack almost every day, separating good advice from clever marketing has arguably never been more important.

So who better to ask than the doctor who has made transformation not only the subject of his book, but something of a feature of his own extraordinary career?

I caught up with Dr Joseph Crespo to find out more…

Dr Crespo, tell me a little about you. What was your journey into medicine, and what eventually made you want to write a book about changing our lives?

My journey into medicine was long and unorthodox, training first as a lawyer and then a financier. When I finally left it all behind to follow my passion, I trained and practise as a primary care physician, and for years my work sat at the intersection of diagnostics, chronic illness and prevention.

What struck me again and again in clinic was that the biggest lever for most people’s health wasn’t a prescription. It was the slow accumulation of daily choices: how they slept, how they handled stress, what they ate, how they thought about themselves. I kept watching patients try to change with sheer determination and fail, not because they lacked willpower but because nobody had ever given them a framework. Medicine has one. It’s called clinical reasoning, and I realised the same discipline doctors use to diagnose and treat could be turned inward, applied to the process of changing a life rather than treating a disease. That’s where the book came from.

The title is The Science of Becoming. Becoming what? Is there actually an optimum version of ourselves, or are we in danger of constantly being told that we need to improve?

Becoming isn’t about arriving at some fixed, optimised endpoint. There’s no single best version of a person waiting to be unlocked. What I mean by becoming is closer to what we mean clinically by healing: a direction, not a destination. It’s the ongoing process of reducing the gap between how you’re currently living and what your body and mind actually need to function well. I’m wary of the “optimisation” culture that treats a person like a machine to be tuned for maximum output.

That framing burns people out. The question I ask is not “how do I become the best version of myself” but “what is actually true about my biology, my history and my circumstances, and what does that call for right now.”

You argue that we rely too much on willpower. Why doesn’t willpower always work, and what should we be doing instead?

Willpower is a finite, fatiguing resource, and it’s also the wrong tool for the job. In clinic, we don’t tell a patient with a chest infection to try harder not to be infected. We diagnose, then we design an intervention suited to the underlying problem. Most of what looks like a willpower failure is actually a design failure: an environment, a routine or a belief system working against the change someone is trying to make. Instead of asking for more willpower, I encourage people to reduce the number of decisions that require willpower in the first place, by changing defaults, removing friction, and building systems that make the desired behaviour the easy and enjoyable behaviour.

You take clinical decision-making and apply it to everyday life. Can you give me a real-world example? How could I use clinical reasoning to make a better decision tomorrow morning?

Clinical reasoning follows a simple sequence: gather data, form a differential, test it, act, then reassess. Take something as ordinary as feeling constantly tired. Instead of reaching straight for caffeine or willing yourself through it, treat it like a case. What’s the data: how did you sleep, what did you eat yesterday, who did you mix with, what’s your stress load this week. What’s the differential: is this poor sleep quality, is it dehydration, is it emotional load, is it simply overtraining. Pick the most likely cause, make one small deliberate change, and observe the result over a few days rather than guessing forever. Tomorrow morning, that might be as simple as noticing what you automatically reach for and asking, briefly, what problem am I actually trying to solve with this.

We’re bombarded with wellness advice on social media — supplements, fasting, cortisol, sleep hacks, diets and longevity treatments. As a doctor, how do you separate genuine science from very clever marketing?

I look for three things. First, is the claim built on a mechanism that’s been demonstrated in humans, not just in a petri dish or a mouse. Second, does the person selling it benefit financially from your belief in it, and how large is that incentive. Third, is the advice generalised or personalised. Genuine science tends to come with caveats, uncertainty and “it depends.” Marketing tends to come with certainty, urgency and a product at the end of it. If a claim can’t survive the question “compared to what, and for whom,” I treat it with real caution.

Neuroscience has become a fashionable word in the self-help world. What do we genuinely know about changing the brain and forming new habits, and what claims do you think go beyond the evidence?

What we know reasonably well is that the brain retains plasticity throughout life, that repetition genuinely does strengthen certain neural pathways, and that habits form through consistent cues and rewards over time, typically longer than the popular twenty-one-day myth suggests. What goes beyond the evidence is the tendency to take a genuine finding from a controlled lab study and present it as a guaranteed personal transformation protocol. Dopamine, cortisol and neuroplasticity get used as marketing words rather than as the specific, conditional findings they actually are. I try to be honest with readers about where the solid ground ends and the speculation begins.

What about someone in their 60s or 70s? Can we genuinely make substantial changes to our habits, health and outlook later in life, or does change become significantly harder as we get older?

Change is absolutely still possible, and I say that as a clinician who sees it happen. What changes with age isn’t the capacity for change itself, it’s the margin for error and the starting conditions: more accumulated habits, sometimes more comorbidity, less physiological reserve to draw on. The clinical reasoning approach actually suits older patients well, because it isn’t about dramatic overhaul, it’s about identifying the one or two changes that will have the greatest effect given someone’s specific situation, and building from there patiently. I’ve seen patients in their seventies transform their sleep, their mobility and their outlook once they had a clear, individualised plan rather than a generic one.

Stress, sleep and nutrition all feature in your approach. If someone came to you and said, “I’m overwhelmed, I can’t change everything,” which one would you tackle first, and why?

Sleep, almost every time. It’s the foundation the other two rest on. Poor sleep drives stress reactivity, disrupts appetite regulation and blunts willpower and decision-making the following day. It’s also usually the most tractable of the three, because unlike stress or nutrition, sleep responds fairly quickly to specific, well-evidenced changes: consistent timing, light exposure, and a wind-down routine. Fix sleep first and the other two often become noticeably easier to address.

Self-help is an enormous industry, and every year we’re offered another formula for transforming ourselves. What makes your approach different, and what evidence is there that it can produce lasting change rather than the short burst of motivation people often get after reading a self-help book?

Most self-help sells motivation. Motivation is a mood, and moods pass. What I’m offering instead is a method: the same diagnostic, iterative process doctors are trained to use, which doesn’t depend on how inspired you feel on a given day. It assumes you will fail at points, and builds reassessment into the process rather than treating failure as proof the whole effort was doomed. Lasting change, in my clinical experience, comes from small, testable, personalised interventions rather than a single dramatic reinvention. That’s a much less glamorous story than the one the industry usually sells, but it’s the one that holds up over years rather than weeks. In addition, I offer documented medical research studies to substantiate every idea.

DR JOSEPH CRESPO

Not everyone is a reader or someone who would naturally pick up a self-help book. For those people listening to us today, what’s one simple thing they could start doing right now to make a positive change in their lives?

Pick one thing you do automatically every single day, and simply notice it for a week before you try to change anything. Don’t judge it, don’t fix it yet, just observe it the way a clinician observes a patient before making a diagnosis. Most people skip straight to changing behaviour without ever accurately understanding what they’re currently doing and why. That single week of honest observation is often the most useful health intervention I can suggest, and it costs nothing and requires no willpower at all.

Quick-fire questions

Favourite place to relax?

My home.

If you were Mayor of London for a day, what’s the first thing you’d change?

The institutionalisation of common sense, and an understanding that our individual rights end where others’ begin. Sadly, I see a growing number of entitled people imposing their views and beliefs, and condemning anybody who disagrees.

A restaurant you particularly love dining at?

Many, but if I have to choose one, Oliveto on Elizabeth Street, a proper Italian trattoria offering high quality food, friendly service, and a home feel environment. https://www.olivetolondon.uk/about

What has been the proudest moment of your life so far?

Every moment I made the decision to keep growing.

What motivates you to keep going when life gets difficult?

Difficulties are circumstantial, and overcoming them requires only a change in perspective. One thing that has helped me a great deal was when I stopped worrying about things which outcome I cannot change.

https://drjcrespo.com

Tags books, health, London, Mental Health, news, personal-development, self-improvement, wellness, writing

Columns Culture Lifestyle People

THE 13TH FLUX EXHIBITION 2026

Post author By Steven Smith.
Post date 3rd Sep 2026
No Comments on THE 13TH FLUX EXHIBITION 2026

By Steven Smith

A labyrinth of talent, colour, diversity and a little bit of fabulousness

By Steven Smith

When I walk into an art exhibition, I feel rather like a kid entering a candy shop. I want to see everything, taste everything and discover something I haven’t encountered before. My thirst for something new, exciting and slightly unexpected is endless.

That is perhaps why FLUX and I get along so well.

Lisa Gray’s wonderful magazine, FLUX Review, never disappoints. It is one of those publications that feels luxurious before you have even turned the first page. Mine sits proudly on my coffee table — not tucked away on a bookshelf — because it is as much an object to admire as it is a magazine to read.

And Lisa’s exhibitions have that same quality.

Now in its 13th edition, the FLUX Exhibition has developed into far more than simply another London art show. There is an energy surrounding it. Artists, collectors, performers, personalities and people who simply love creativity come together, and somehow the evening manages to feel glamorous without becoming stuffy.

In fact, FLUX exhibitions have become so renowned that people apparently turn up without an invitation in the hope of getting inside.

Frankly, I can understand why.

This year’s exhibition, staged at 206 Marylebone Road in London, brought together the work of 70 artists, encompassing painters, sculptors and performance artists from a mixture of established and emerging talent.

But statistics don’t really tell the story of FLUX.

You have to walk through it.

There is something around every corner. One moment you are looking at an extraordinary painting; the next you are confronted by sculpture, textiles, portraiture or something you cannot immediately put into a category at all.

That is part of the fun.

From drag queens to the who’s who of the art and social world, the evening glistened with excellence, eccentricity and individuality. There was a sense that everyone was welcome and that creativity, rather than convention, was running the show.

And I love that.

FLUX has always championed diversity, and it doesn’t feel like diversity has simply been added to satisfy a fashionable checklist. Different people, backgrounds, artistic disciplines and perspectives genuinely seem to belong together here.

Of course, in an exhibition containing so many artists, everyone will discover their own favourites.

Everyone is a star, but inevitably some stars shine particularly brightly.

For me, one of those was Gregory John Ford, whose Snow leopard immediately caught my attention.

His sculptures made me stop — and that, in an exhibition packed with work competing for your attention, is an achievement in itself.

There is something contemporary, playful and slightly rebellious about his work. It has a new-age feeling without trying too hard to announce itself as “modern art”.

Yes, there are some skeletons in his collection.

Regular readers will know my feelings about skeletons in art. I have never understood the fascination and probably never will. I spend enough time trying to avoid becoming one without wanting one staring at me from the corner of the living room.

But put my skeleton prejudice aside and there is an artist here with genuine imagination. Amongst some brilliant work, his pieces made you stop, look again and want to know more.

That, surely, is what art is supposed to do.

Then there was René Porter, who positively slays the canvas with her incredible drag portraits.

These are not timid portraits.

They have glamour, personality, theatricality and attitude. You almost expect the subjects to step out of the canvas, demand a spotlight and ask why the champagne hasn’t arrived yet.

Looking at them made me think what a tragedy it is that the legendary Madame Jojo’s no longer exists. René’s work should be adorning the walls of some fabulous, slightly decadent nightclub where drag queens, performers and assorted creatures of the night hold court until the early hours.

There is something wonderfully celebratory about the portraits. Drag has always been about transformation, exaggeration, humour and, underneath all the glitter, tremendous artistry. René captures that spirit beautifully.

Another artist who made me pause was Tayo Ayelowo, whose textile work felt wonderfully refreshing.

Textiles can sometimes be overlooked when surrounded by traditional painting and sculpture, but here they held their own. There was texture, craftsmanship and a distinctive visual language that felt different from much of the work surrounding it.

And perhaps “different” is the word that kept returning to me throughout the exhibition.

FLUX doesn’t appear interested in presenting rows of artwork that all look as though they have been selected by the same person for the same white living room.

Instead, you find contrast.

The participating artists included Neil Ashton, Annette Aspen, Rina Bakis, John Carpenter, Stuart John Cashmore, Janet Cawthorne, Catarina Diaz, Marcela Olivia Dorantes, Marina Emphietzi, Richard Eveleigh, Bushra Fakhoury, Dawn Fincham, Michael French, Karin Jolly, Gwenda Jones, Greg Kent, Rachel Le Roux, Jamal Masarwa, Caia Matheson, Olga McClelland, Iryna Miro, Holly Nerreter, Gary Nicholls, René Porter, Usha Rajagopal, Nadiia Rom, David Studwell, Wei Keong Tan, Christine Terres and Kathryn Thomas, amongst many others.

It is an extraordinary roll call and illustrates the breadth of talent involved.

Collectors were also given another little incentive: anyone purchasing artwork at the exhibition received a complimentary artwork by Catarina Diaz valued at £200. A rather lovely touch — although, knowing me, I would probably arrive intending to look and leave wondering where on earth I was going to hang everything I had fallen in love with.

But FLUX isn’t only about buying art.

For me, the greatest pleasure is discovery.

We live in an age when so much of what we see is dictated by an algorithm. Our phones decide what we might like based on what we liked yesterday. Social media serves us more of the same, and eventually our visual world can become surprisingly small.

Walking around an exhibition such as FLUX is the antidote to that.

You can turn a corner and be confronted by something you would never have searched for, never expected to like and perhaps cannot even explain why you like.

Suddenly you are having a conversation with an artist whose work you had never seen before.

That is exciting.

Lisa Gray deserves enormous credit for continuing to create a platform where established artists can sit alongside emerging talent and where painting, sculpture, textiles, performance and portraiture can all share the spotlight.

Thirteen exhibitions in, it would be very easy to play safe.

FLUX does the opposite.

It remains colourful, inclusive, occasionally eccentric and gloriously unpredictable.

My mentions of Gregory John Ford, René Porter and Tayo Ayelowo are exactly that — personal shout-outs from a labyrinth of talent. Another visitor could walk the same rooms and come away with three completely different favourites.

And that is precisely the point.

Art should divide opinion. It should make you stop. Occasionally it should make you laugh. Sometimes it should make absolutely no sense to you whatsoever.

And every now and then, something should make you think: I need that on my wall.

The 13th FLUX Exhibition gave us plenty of those moments.

Lisa Gray has once again gathered together an extraordinary collection of people who aren’t frightened of being different, and created an exhibition where individuality is something to celebrate rather than tone down.

Roll on number fourteen.

Steven Smith

Tags art, artist, exhibition, exhibitions, LGBTQIA, painting, queer, writing

Columns Health and Fitness Lifestyle People Travel

The curious case of the suitcase that went on a European holiday without me on Vueling airlines

Post author By Steven Smith.
Post date 3rd Sep 2026
No Comments on The curious case of the suitcase that went on a European holiday without me on Vueling airlines

https://www.vueling.com/en

The curious case of the suitcase that went on a European holiday without me

https://www.vueling.com/en

By Steven Smith

There was great excitement when, as a late birthday gift, my nephew took me to Marbella for five days.

We flew out with British Airways, and I came back on a codeshare flight operated by a Spanish airline called Vueling. Now, I have no complaints about the flight itself. Everything went perfectly well.

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for my luggage.

There are certain things you expect to bring home from a holiday: photographs, memories, perhaps a few extra pounds around the waist and a vague promise that next time you’ll pack less.

What you don’t expect is for your suitcase to continue its European travels without you.

My luggage has now been missing since Saturday, and what began as an inconvenience has turned into a bizarre international mystery involving airports, telephone calls, automated updates and a suitcase that appears to have had a far more adventurous journey than I did.

The reference number, which I now know almost as well as my own telephone number, is LGWVY28092.

The bag was particularly important because I had been sharing it with my nephew, Matthew, who was due to fly to the United States shortly after we returned. His clothes were inside, along with mine. So this wasn’t simply a case of waiting patiently for a delayed pair of socks to turn up.

Then came the updates.

At one point, my luggage appeared to be in Paris Charles de Gaulle. Why Paris? Your guess is as good as mine. From there, I was told it was being sent to Barcelona before eventually — hopefully — making its way back to me in London.

Paris to Barcelona to London. My suitcase was practically Interrailing.

What has made the whole experience considerably worse, however, is the extraordinary difficulty in getting a clear answer from anyone.

I have telephoned. I have messaged. I have chased. I have watched the online tracking system with the dedication of an air traffic controller. I would love to be in Paris ,

Eventually, the status changed to the rather exciting announcement:

“Your piece of baggage has been located.”

Wonderful!

Except there was one small problem.

Where exactly had it been located?

Being told something has been “located” is not particularly reassuring when nobody can confirm where it physically is, whether it actually arrived in Barcelona, when it will be placed on a flight to London, or when it might finally arrive at my front door.

Each telephone call seems to produce another version of: “We are waiting for information.”

Meanwhile, my suitcase continues to exist somewhere in the mysterious world of international baggage handling.

My suitcase before its extended holiday .

There is, of course, a funny side. I have visions of it sitting beside a swimming pool in Barcelona, sipping sangria while I sit in London trying desperately to discover its whereabouts.

But underneath the humour is a serious point.

When airlines lose passengers’ belongings, communication matters enormously. People may have medication, work clothes, sentimental possessions or valuable items inside their cases. A computer-generated message saying a bag has been “located” simply isn’t enough after days of uncertainty.

Passengers deserve to know what is happening to their property.

So, as I write this, the great suitcase saga continues.

Somewhere between London, Paris and Barcelona is one extremely well-travelled piece of luggage that belongs to me.

If anyone sees it, could you possibly tell it that its holiday is over?

Steven would quite like his clothes back.

P.S. The latest piece of “help” from Vueling Airlines was the suggestion that I call Barcelona Airport myself and see if I can find my luggage.

You really couldn’t make it up.

UPDATE: THE SUITCASE FINALLY COMES HOME!

Now for an update on my luggage.

After around ten more phone calls — yes, I am like a dog with a bone — there was finally some good news.

Now, the people at Vueling Airlines are actually very charming. You are given the choice to speak to them in English or Spanish and, even as they told me that no one could find my luggage in Barcelona but that they would keep trying, there was always the cheerful: “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

I have to admit, the latter did begin to irritate me slightly. YES — FIND MY SUITCASE!

Eventually, on Friday, six days into my suitcase’s extended stay in Barcelona, there was good news: it had been found!

However, it still wasn’t showing on the system the following morning, so naturally I called again. Yes, apparently it was on its way back to Gatwick, although no one seemed quite sure exactly when. They estimated somewhere around 12:45.

I called again later and there was still no confirmation that it had actually landed.

Then, at around four o’clock on Saturday, I received a text from Eagle Aviation, who were going to deliver my luggage.

There was an odd delivery time showing, so I emailed them. They told me they hadn’t actually received the luggage yet, so I was safe to go out.

The following morning it was much the same story. At around 11am, I was told that perhaps it would be in the 12:30 batch they were expecting, but they couldn’t confirm it.

So, safe in the knowledge that my suitcase was apparently still nowhere near my front door, I headed off to Chelmsford to see my great friend Aston Avery, who had been nominated at the Make a Difference Awards. I reckoned I could easily be home by six.

There I was, sitting next to Anna Kennedy OBE — who, I should point out, did forgot to share her Skittles however provided me with some great popcorn Thank-you — when at around 3:45pm my phone started buzzing.

“Your luggage will be delivered today between 16:42 and 18:42.”

AN HOUR’S NOTICE!

Luckily, it was towards the end of the show, so I legged it. And no wonder I have a hernia now!

Somehow, I made it back home by 5:30pm.

At 5:55pm, the call finally came.

Could I come downstairs and be reunited with my luggage?

Apparently, they don’t bring it to your actual door.

And there it was. After eight days missing in action, several countries, countless telephone calls and considerably more stress than any suitcase deserves to cause, we were finally reunited.

I am going to do exactly what my nephew told me to do in the first place and buy an Apple AirTag. I also now have the pleasure of posting my nephew’s belongings back to the USA!

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Apple-AirTag-

On the upside, in nearly 50 years of travelling, this is the first time anything like this has happened to me. The actual flight with Vueling was very good, and the cabin crew were professional, smart and charming. So I’m going to put the whole thing down to very bad luck — or perhaps Malaga Airport!

Would I fly with Vueling again? Yes, I probably would.

Would I ever travel without an AirTag again?

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

As for my luggage, it is very happy to be home.

Although after its unexpected European adventure, it is now telling me that it needs a spa day.

Frankly, so do I.

https://www.vueling.com/en

Tags europe, life, reviews, Travel, travel-tips, writing