The Director of Operations

Where do I also start with this one?

To be clear, where I mention “The Director of Operations” I am referring to Nicki Dixon, Director of Operations and Safeguarding Lead for Moorview Care.

Stop me if any of this sounds familiar. Consistent inconsistency, going silent and not replying, editing information without consultation, presenting “options” that are actually constraints, and using corporate language to dress up control.

When I design systems, I don’t guess how people work. I analyse what they need. I don’t work in assumptions. That’s how I built complex systems that worked with the human that needed them.

Introduction

From my first introduction to Nicki back in June, I sensed a pattern. Formal, precise emails that addressed the concerns I raised with specific evidence, but then things would change when I pushed for actual answers.

During my correspondence over the past few months, I’ve noticed several recurring patterns in how Nicki manages complaints, how she interacts with those she’s supposed to support, and how she frames the choices she presents.

She doesn’t consistently treat me like the person I am – someone who ran a department, someone who designed complex systems, someone who speaks the language of data and code. Instead, she often frames me as someone whose needs exist to be managed rather than someone to be consulted.

Consistent Inconsistency

One of the clearest patterns is the inconsistency. She doesn’t consistently spell my name correctly. Sometimes “Jessica,” sometimes “Jessicca,” and then the font formatting problems make everything feel a bit unprofessional.

When I ask questions, she often goes silent. I’ve asked some multiple times, hoping she might come back with an answer, but sometimes it feels like she’s hoping I’ll go away. The pattern of non-response to specific, evidence-based questions, despite promises of transparency, suggests that some answers might be uncomfortable for her.

The Future Planning Framework

Perhaps the most consistent pattern is what Nicki doesn’t tell me. When I ask what happened, why decisions were made, when things occurred, she gives me what should have been done differently. Future planning, in other words, but no facts.

I learned early on that I cannot make comprehensive rebuttals to complaints until I have the facts. My GDPR SAR would provide that basis. I was explicit about this. “I’ll wait to hear from Kate” and “I only deal in facts.” Yet whenever I pressed for actual answers to my specific questions, the response was often “what should have been done differently” or reassurance that the investigation would be thorough.

The meeting on July 31 was telling. I had raised specific concerns, cited evidence, outlined the pattern of issues. But when it came time to discuss my options, I was told the essential choice was working with Jennifer or losing care entirely. Other “solutions” were presented, but not really. I could not go elsewhere for ‘regulated activity’ (personal care) because there was no elsewhere for care. These were the only options Nicki decided to present to me. Mediate with Jennifer, or you don’t get any more care.

Data Protection as a Barrier to Truth

Nicki frequently cites Data Protection as a barrier to providing information. She cited the Data Protection Act 1998. The current legislation in 2026? That’s 20 years old. The Data Protection Act 2018 is the current legislation. There’s a difference.

Beyond that, she uses data protection to avoid explaining who made decisions, when, why. Specific questions about timing, staffing, safety remain unanswered behind “we need to maintain team confidentiality” or “I cannot discuss individual team members.”

The internal investigation into November 1st is presented as thorough and evidence-based, but then she can’t share the outcome because it’s protected information. The irony of claiming to investigate a matter thoroughly while limiting what can be shared with the person affected.

The job advert I wrote was “reviewed by legal,” but I wasn’t consulted. “Written by the person you’ll be supporting”. Well. Almost, except it was edited. Grammar was changed, most sections removed, and I only found out by seeing what was published.

No. If legal was consulted, I should have been consulted about changes too. It’s simple respect.

HR Mediation as Control

When external mediation looked like it would take too long for Moorview’s convenience due to waiting lists, Nicki offered HR Senior Managers instead. I rejected it as it’s not the third party independent mediation I was coerced into accepting. A totally valid concern, given HR Managers work for and are paid by Moorview.

This feels like another restriction. Every issue is framed as my choice, but choices are always constrained by what Moorview presents as viable.

What emerges from all this is a Director of Operations who uses corporate language, formal procedures, and careful framing to control narrative and outcomes. She creates space for her own agency, but removes agency from the person she’s supposed to support.

Both complaints were “upheld” in the sense that specific issues are acknowledged, but my agency continued to be removed. Every reassurance becomes a constraint. Every “choice” is framed as my decision, but framed within boundaries Nicki has already set.

What if?

What would have happened if I had been treated like I’m a person who ran her own department rather than a “person supported” whose needs exist to be managed? What if questions had been answered rather than avoided? What if the “choices” presented had actually been choices?

The answer is in how the care package was finally returned to social services in August. After months of correspondence, after specific patterns being identified, after explicit statements about not treating people as second-class citizens despite disability, that’s how the system handles someone who doesn’t comply. Not because I’m difficult. Not because I’m incompetent. Not because my needs are unreasonable.

When the people in charge can’t be bothered to spell your name correctly, answer your questions, or treat your words as valuable, you learn quickly that you’re not being supported. You’re being managed. You’re being controlled.

Nicki Dixon’s approach to directing operations at Moorview Care demonstrates a consistent pattern of removing agency, presenting constraints as choices, and using corporate language to dress up control mechanisms. The ultimate cost? A person whose needs, preferences, and requirements were clearly documented, whose care package was dismantled, and whose voice was not heard. Not because I couldn’t be heard, but because someone else decided that’s not what should be heard.