Skip to main content

HAWMC Day 23: My Night with Gloria

It's Health Activist Choice Day again. So, what do I want to say? Well, there's this post I've been trying to write for a while now, but can't really seem to get a grasp on what it actually is. So, what I'm going to do is just force myself to write about it, and hopefully I turn out something worth posting. Let's see what happens.

If you follow me on twitter and/or facebook, you probably read at least one of my (many, many) posts about my getting to meet Gloria Steinem. It was a pretty amazing day. I got to attend both an informal Q&A and then a more formal lecture later in the day. I was lucky enough to ask her a question in each setting. In response to my first question she told me to believe in myself. I mean, it's not a big deal or anything.

...Okay, she was telling all of the young feminists in the room, but she was looking right at me when she said it. And let me tell you, when your idol looks you right in the face and tells you to believe in yourself, it suddenly seems like an extremely simple task.

But back to Gloria. What I noticed more than anything else while hanging on her every word was that she has this incredible, almost uncanny way of being able to just name things. She just says it. For instance, in the second, more formal lecture setting, and after she was introduced, Gloria strode right out to the podium and pointed out the inherent hierarchal implications of such a space. She quickly dismissed it, though, saying that we would try to just have a conversation in spite of it. The entire room laughed at her funny joke. But... it wasn't a joke. Not really. In one sentence, she redefined the implied meaning of the space. In short, she's just as wonderful as you always thought she was.

Since that night, I've been thinking a lot about how much easier life would be if we could just name things like that all the time.

"Yo, this space is mad hierarchal. I'm not crazy about that. Let's move past that and just talk to each other, okay? Cool." 

"Actually, I feel weird about terms like "handicapable" and "differently abled." I'm disabled, dude. It's fine to call me that."


Wouldn't that make life easier? To be given the space to define things. I'm not saying everyone will agree all the time, but that's what inspires conversation. In fact, that's when we're able to figure out how to even have a conversation about something. I freaking love that moment. I live for that moment.

So, maybe that wasn't so pointless after all. What do you think?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Overwhelming Nuance - Dancing Crohn's Disease

Below is small segment of my Dance Studies Research Project, "Cripping Dance: Radical Representations of the Disabled Dancing Body." It's the bit I wrote about my own work, Overwhelming Nuance (excerpted below), which, as you will see, was inspired by the feelings of denial that so often accompany disease.  Nearly four years after I was diagnosed with Crohn's, it flared massively. Lost in the idea that "my disease will not define my life", I ignored for months the signs of the looming crash. This breakdown forced me to come to terms with the reality of my disease. I suddenly understood that the idea that the mind might overcome the body just supported the willful denial of my disease. After this experience, determined to force an openness about disease in my own life, I claimed disability as part of my identity and choreographed my own "crip" coming out.

Chronic Overshare

Every two weeks I take my Humira shot. No big deal. But, a couple days afterward the most wonderful thing happens. I poo. I mean, I take a dump . It's awesome. The thing is, I crap constantly. All the freaking time. Just not like this. This is one of those rare, deeply satisfying, glorious dumps. And I get to look forward to it every two weeks. It's a major source of joy in my life. And what's my immediate reaction every two weeks? What is the first thing I want to do as I saunter triumphantly from the bathroom? I want to tell people. I actively seek out someone to inform of the magnificent crap I just took. I'm genuinely disappointed if no one's around. My poor roommates.

The Trouble with Pep Talks

The scene: You're sitting on a comfy couch having a conversation with a good friend or a family member. Someone you're very close to. Maybe you're having a cup of coffee/tea or a glass of wine. It's been a good night of sharing with someone you trust. The issue you're talking about doesn't necessarily have to be Crohn's, but let's say it is. You're feeling comfortable, so you are very honest about your experience. You decide it's okay, just for a moment, to let go of that tone of optimism you normally adopt when speaking about your disease. It's not that you've actually given up hope, you're just tired. After you finish your tale, your friend/family member looks at you lovingly and says something like, "you're the strongest person I know" or, my personal favorite, "it'll just make you stronger in the end." I've been trying to write this post for a while now, and I've been having a lot of troub