8 uncomfortable truths about RDA - from a coach, trustee, and long-term volunteer

Who loves an uncomfortable conversation? What do you mean, nobody does?

RDA is one of my biggest passions. I love coaching, I love getting stuck into governance, I love the fact that my social life is totally dominated by my group. Loving something and thinking critically about it, however, don't need to be mutually exclusive. The deeper I've got into the RDA world, the more I've found myself thinking about what I might like to change - and what I think we don't talk about openly enough...

Coaching this January

1. Not everyone is going to be as committed to this as you 

I've spent a lot of my RDA career coordinating volunteers, as a volunteer, on Saturdays. Saturdays are commonly acknowledged as the most fun day of the week, and for that reason, keeping your volunteer numbers stable every Saturday is a beast of its very own. The best advice I've ever received on this? "Remember, not everyone is as into RDA as you are."

Does it magically make Saturdays (or any other day or activity) easy to populate with eager volunteers? No. Does it make it easier to find people to delegate the load to in a group? Also no. Is it realistic? Yes. Those of us giving up free time or days off for RDA; who think about it beyond the stables so everyone is able to enjoy their time there; who put their hand up to coordinate, organise, or govern... We aren't, for want of a better word, normal. There's a lot to be said for never asking others to do what you wouldn't do yourself, but it's no surprise if putting in a big shift isn't that appealing to everyone. 

We can't make other people like it more, or want to commit more. We can lead by example and develop the experience of volunteering with our groups into something which people want to be part of. I've also learnt that the will of one volunteer to do this while still having some level of a good time themselves is rarely enough. People often have the "free" time - persuading them to spend it on RDA is the challenge. If that means a couple of hours a week that are enjoyed, that's totally fine. Nobody is winning the challenge by grumbling that not enough other people are just like them.

2. RDA groups need to be run like businesses, even if they don't feel like businesses

I've been a trustee for a large, long-established group, and a small, very new group. Neither feel like a business when you're in the midst of an RDA session. We've had more than one person say of our sessions at Aim that the atmosphere feels like how they remember RDA or riding schools from years ago: family-orientated, fun, and welcoming. This doesn't mean that we aren't running as tight a ship as possible behind the scenes. 

In both my experiences as a trustee, I've been struck by how many processes need to run professionally for a group to keep going, even just for the normal, everyday stuff. Too business-like and groups lose their personal feel, their connections and emotional investment - all things that are important to me to get out of the organisation. Not business-like enough, though, and the wheels can fall off pretty quickly, so...

3. ...you have to know what to do if it goes wrong

Nobody joins an RDA group expecting things to go wrong. A challenge that can be resolved in the space of a session is satisfying, and the odd bump in the road (it's horses, people fall off them from time to time) is normal. What about when things go wrong beyond this level? Charities have as much potential to be un-harmonious as they do to be the opposite: I don't think it's unusual to find disagreements at any level of RDA as an organisation, because there are so many different people with so many strongly-held views. There are also difficulties inherent to the activities we offer: horses can be expensive if they are unwell or unsound, require lots of training, and are difficult to find in the numbers our groups need them. It takes a village to run RDA sessions successfully, but villages aren't always available. 

Running a modern RDA group is too complex to be able to get away with "winging it" for the tricky situations. There are lots of risks which surround even the best run, happiest of groups. My group, aspiring to be both of these things, has spent a surprising amount of time discussing potential risks and processes for things which we hope will never happen. There is nothing more disheartening, as someone passionate about RDA and using it to make a difference, to be told "I can't do anything to help", or "I don't have the answer to this problem" - I've been there more times than I'd like to admit.

4. It's way too hard to set up a new RDA group

Everyone knows that there is way more demand for RDA places than there are places available. Waiting lists are a standard feature for most groups, some years long. We know what we do is a good thing, but there isn't enough of it to go round.

As such, we need more RDA groups. RDAUK planned in 2022 to be supporting 10,000 more participants by this year. Aim RDA has opened up 25 riding places which previously didn't exist in the last six months, with plans for more as the year continues, but it was no picnic getting there. Our founding board of trustees were very familiar with the organisation (even if we hadn't always banked on setting up our own group) prior to starting the process, but it was hard work finding everything we needed to do, in what order. There were a lot of chicken vs egg headaches - the timing of setting up a charity bank account, for example, and whether it came before, after, and/or as a result of receiving our charity number. 

The territory is far from uncharted, but administrative processes change far quicker than the majority of groups have been in existence. National Office were supportive of our efforts, of course, but new groups have been few and far between in the last five years and many members of staff would have had no reason to encounter the process before. None of us are surprised that there aren't more new groups popping up, given the level of commitment required even before the administrational labyrinth that comes between a bright idea and a signed off RDA group ready to run sessions. I'd be lying if I said the stumbling blocks hadn't stopped there, either. So many rules are difficult to access, seem to change with the wind, or don't make sense for a modern group. We want to follow them to the letter, but the letters are inclined to turn into a weird, slippery alphabet soup. For those without much or any prior understanding of the organisation, I think the process would be impossible. 

There is, of course, a disconnect here. The organisation needs more groups in order to grow - this seems more realistic in the form of brand new groups than expanding those which are already run to capacity. More groups is an objectively good thing. So, why so frustrating to make it all happen? This needs to be much easier for the groups down the line who knock us at Aim off our "newest in the UK" position. 

Emilia, Tegan and Kali sharing a joke during a riding lesson

 

5. Even well-meaning attitudes can hold people back

From admin aggro to something I feel more strongly about as a coach: we are all capable of holding back participants if we don't approach their progress with the right mindset. I know the stereotype is very much basic, gentle lessons for small children, but there's only a fraction of our total participant body for whom this is the absolute limit. We will never be surprised by quite how much these people can do if we don't give them a chance to surprise us. 

I've come across a few unhelpful attitudes in the last thirteen years. A very competent young rider, desperate to learn to canter - "she doesn't need to be doing that". "They don't need to be off the lead rein, it's just RDA". "Not everyone in the (very large and varied) group is able to do that, so these people can't." None of these people had ill intentions towards the riders they were teaching: they cared about them, wanted to keep them safe (perhaps too safe, sometimes), and enjoyed being part of their group. This doesn't change, however, that those same riders felt held back and frustrated. 

I'm not saying do anything dangerous, and I'm not saying everyone is looking for the higher/faster/stronger brand of RDA experience - riders, coaches, volunteers all included. I just think "more" can be very important for a lot of our participants, and our success relies on it being possible. 

6. The playing field will never be totally level

There is a big gulf between the people who see disability sport from the outside and think "how lovely and inclusive" and the people in the thick of making it happen. Para dressage, beyond RDA, is surprisingly non-inclusive. Aside from the obvious issues with horses being expensive and not universally easy to access, the para grading system is based on a PhD thesis more than thirty years old which hasn't had anywhere near as much evolution as it needs since. "Fair" is a difficult concept to pin down, but it only gets harder when you throw a load of disabled athletes with vastly differing needs and definitions of "fair" into the mix. The equity we hear championed in Paralympic Games marketing takes its form in equestrianism with blind people riding horses in competitions against sighted people (don't get me started...), and a huge number of disabilities not fitting into the grading system at all - even if the same condition can be classified for other sports. 

"It's complicated," I was told at my first RDA National Championships, by a long-haul board member, "for riding, sometimes people just aren't the right kind of disabled."

RDA isn't the Paralympics. We're lucky to have an event system in the National Championships which surpasses so much of what's available in the rest of the world. Riders who aren't able to be classified for para dressage can fit in; there are more disciplines available than just dressage; and visually impaired riders have their own separate classes (even more pleasingly, these are now arranged by sight classification). Ungraded (or ungradable) riders can fit into an RDA Grade 6 (physical disabilities) or Grade 7 (learning difficulties) class. 

Even these, however, have their limitations. Grade 6 and 7 are incredibly large at the RDA championships, and as a result are very broad churches. Are a rider who is profoundly deaf and a rider who is a full time wheelchair user a "fair" match in competition? Where would an autistic rider who doesn't have any "learning difficulties" be placed most fairly? On top of this, I think there is a sense of injustice for those unable to access para dressage grading - even if they are very capable riders - that trickles down into the RDA system. Disability is inherently unfair, and RDA is in a powerful position to advocate for what "fair" really looks like at this point in its history.

We are so lucky to have what we do, and I will always say that Nationals is my favourite weekend of the year. Do I think the playing field needs regular, proactive maintenance to keep it as level as possible? Yes. I know too many people who are stuck down the rogue molehills. 

7. "Because it's what we've always done" isn't a good enough reason to keep doing it

RDA is probably going to change either too fast or slow for your personal liking, and if you're in it long enough, probably both. There is definitely a balance to be found between past, present and future, but I don't think the organisation always gets this right. Change can be a very good thing: exciting, interesting, refreshing, necessary. 

As someone who's got more future ahead of her in RDA than past behind her (I hope), I'm not unfamiliar with ideas being dismissed or blocked because "we've always done it like this" - even if the old way isn't actually working any more. Being part of a brand new group brings its own flip side to this experience: we don't yet have an "old way", so need to carve out what our "current way" looks like as we go. I feel like I am understanding the organisation better and better from how we are combining older with newer ideas.

Organisations like RDA will change, because societies and people do. We are all seeing huge numbers of enquiries from riders who are autistic, have ADHD, PDA, or similar diagnoses - numbers hugely different from even ten years ago. People are needing to work longer, so the stereotype of a typical retired RDA volunteer looking to do good with their spare time will change too. We are under different pressures to do with social license and equine welfare than we were in the early days of RDA. Everything is bigger, from the size of the vet bills to the number of groups to the image of the charity as a "brand". It's totally possible to be inspired by the origin stories of RDA's oldest and longest-lived groups, while simultaneously thinking "I'd like to approach this a bit differently".

8. If we don't listen, there's no point in doing

My Aim RDA comrades and I really want our group to be participant-centred. I know there are many other groups who feel the same way: our participants are our groups, our reason for doing what we do. Even so, I know it isn't unusual for participants not actually to be asked too much about what they like, dislike, dream about, aspire to, or would like to be more involved in. I have had conversations in the past with participants and their families where the main sentiment expressed is "we'd like more of XYZ, but we're just so grateful to have a space we don't want to criticise".

The downfall of any service for disabled people could very easily be a lack of input from disabled service users, and RDA is not immune to this. I do think there is a school of thought present, if not universally so, in the organisation that "the group knows what's best for them and that's that". The longer I spend in an RDA setting, the more I'm aware of how much I don't understand first hand as a non-disabled, neurotypical person. I like to think I know my riders well, and that they feel seen by me and our group as a whole. Even so, the group is there for their benefit ahead of anyone else's. I get the most out of my own experience when they are feeling happy and fulfilled by their RDA sessions.

No group needs to be held to ransom by its participants - or, indeed, its other members. We should be in a cooperative relationship with all parties, and we also all have our own limits (nice ideas can be unrealistic in practice). But if we're making decisions for our participants, assuming we know best, or that they should be grateful for what we are able to offer them without question, isn't that missing the point?

Sue, one of our Aim coaches, teaching an RDA session