Assume the same complexity in every person you encounter. Knowing one’s own story, from external achievement all the way to the soft insides, provides an opportunity. It is important to attend to both how a person is “read” and how they are “misread.” And most important of all, to listen-or, better yet, to not rely on that vexing sensory metaphor to pay attention (we misread voices too). We fail the people in our midst when we only think of them categorically-and also when we refuse to think of the categories that define them. This brings me back to a point that I make in one way or another over and over again. Expression tells a truer story, both of my vulnerability and of my ability. In both generous and cruel ways, my body is read on the surface flatly and inadequately, in comparison to the expansiveness of my interiority. Speaking and writing in public is, for me and many others, in part a corrective. I am misread frequently-both as someone who is fully able-bodied, because of my normative body type, and also as someone who is not as capable as I am, because of my race-and-gender package. What constitutes unfair advantage and what constitutes the luck of the draw is a social matter, not an objective assessment. There is no “level” playing field in sports. And yet there is a terror over the “different” body of one particular kind, irrespective of evidence that the particularities of bodies are always at work in athletic competition. In every sport, body composition and size can effectively disqualify one from competition, or make achievement relatively easy. I think about this in the context of the debates around trans athletes. Disability is a myriad of things, and ability is contingent upon the circumstances. And within categories, there is always enormous variation. Other arrangements and connections are possible beyond what we “see,” both literally and figuratively. Our categorizing always requires an asterisk. The latter may be corralled into the mainstream, while the former is marked as misfitted, but each has a body that demands care of a sort that our ableist society refuses. Just as someone who has one arm has a particular body, so, too, does someone whose autoimmune system attacks their major organs. The human body that is marked as “different” is often misunderstood. But we also use it in the cruelest of ways, to sort human beings, to judge, to exclude, to be violent. We use it to measure risk, to learn, to develop intimacy. Yes, we use it in beautiful ways-to get information that allows us to offer comfort, assistance, and kindness. Sight as a sense is a matter-of-fact thing. It’s pretty obvious, but bears repeating, that visuality is an unreliable and sometimes dangerous tool of assessment. I’ve been thinking about disability over the past week or so, in part because of the conversation around Jada Pinkett Smith’s alopecia, and in part because of the wonderful reviews of the new book The Invisible Kingdom by Meghan O’Rourke, about the millions of Americans suffering from chronic illness, which I am eager to read. This leads not only to insult but also to exclusion, rejection, and the withholding of opportunities and experiences. Those with visible disabilities are often assumed to be incapable or incompetent, irrespective of the nature of their disabilities. I benefit in some ways from the fact that my disabilities cannot be seen, but as a result I am rarely accommodated for them (yet too frequently shamed when I physically cannot do the things that are expected of me). More specifically, I have invisible disabilities. I have slowly grown to understand myself as someone with disabilities. In the intervening years, I’ve been diagnosed with two other autoimmune diseases, and these illnesses have shaped every aspect of my life. I was diagnosed with systemic lupus in 1996. For access to all editions of the newsletter, including subscriber-only exclusives, subscribe to The Atlantic. This is a free edition of Unsettled Territory, a newsletter about culture, law, history, and finding meaning in the mundane.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |