Unhappy Birthday to You

Last Saturday, I turned 24. It didn't feel much like a birthday, in part because for the first time I wasn't around any of my family members, and partially because what was supposed to be a lovely day out was ruined by the ignorance of others about invisible/hidden disabilities.

As I mentioned in my last post, I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. It manifests itself in various ways throughout my body, but currently, my most severe symptoms have to do with my joints. Just about all of my moveable joints sublux and/or dislocate on a regular basis; I sublux almost constantly during the day, and I usually experience dislocations a few times a week. None of my joints are in great condition, but my ankles are significantly worse than my other joints. I wear braces on them daily, which I usually cover with pants.

The main reason I choose to cover my braces is to avoid drawing attention to myself. I'm the type of person who likes to try and fly under the radar; I HATE it when I get attention called to me. It makes me really uncomfortable. Most of that stems from growing up undiagnosed. As a child and a teenager, I was constantly injured. My injuries never healed in the normal amount of time, and that caused people to notice me - negatively. Doctors, teachers, classmates, and even friends and family members constantly questioned me. Doctors wrote me off as a hypochondriac when I insisted I still had a ton of pain and that physical therapy wasn't doing anything for me. Teachers gave me a hard time about affording me the accomodations I'd been approved for, giving me a hard time about things like getting me photocopies of the notes because I couldn't write. I found out later they discussed me openly in the staff room, insisting I was just, "Being a pain in the ass." Classmates made no secret about their disbelief - even though I wasn't allowed to carry things, almost no one was willing to volunteer to carry my bag to my next class. A couple people went as far, in the early days of AIM, as making a fake username and harassing me, telling me I wanted attention, that I was a faker and a liar, that no one would ever love me, that no one liked me, that I was good for nothing. My friends had a hard time believing me, as did my family. They never knew me to be a liar, but the sort of things happening to me were things they believed didn't happen to people - or only happened to people with a known genetic condition.

In some ways, other people treating me the way they did was more disabling than any of my injuries. I learned to hide myself away, hide the pain, hide the suffering. It was very unhealthy, but that's how I coped.

For my birthday, my boyfriend wanted to do something he thought would make me really happy, and he searched for months to find us tickets for a Broadway show I wanted to see. I was so excited, and on the day of my birthday, we headed into NYC set on having a lovely day. We got up to the theater, got our seats (second row!), and everything was going wonderfully... until I was harassed three different times, by three different ushers, because my disability is hidden. I was on line for the handicapped restroom, since the other bathrooms are up or down several stairs, and with my ankles, I can't do stairs. I got stared at. I got glared at. I got told this restroom was not for my use. I was told the bathrooms for my use were upstairs or downstairs. I was treated with disbelief. I was targeted, because I look young and vital, and I choose to cover my braces so that people don't stare at me everywhere I go.

After the third usher approached me, she tried to explain that the policy of questioning people on line like me was to preserve my use of the restroom, that the policy was in place for my own good. I responded, through tears, that when a policy unfairly targets and harasses the people it's trying to protect, it's obviously not working, and it harms people that are already dealing with enough. No one has the right to judge me - or anyone - based on my outward appearance.

Many, many disabilities are hidden or invisible. People who are disabled don't like being stared at, and those of us who can mask our disabilities often choose to, because we'd rather be seen as people before we're seen as disabled people. This is something that people need to realize. People with hidden or invisible disabilities are already suffering enough, the last thing we need is someone harassing us "for our own good." What we need is people that are compassionate and understanding, who are educated enough to know that just because a person isn't in a wheelchair doesn't mean they're not disabled. Disabilities, like people, come in all shapes and sizes, and appearances can be deceiving.

My experiences - and ruined birthday - could have easily been prevented, had the staff members not been so quick to judge, so uneducated about disabilities, and so arrogant. I told as much to the house manager, who encouraged me to write to the organization that owns the theater, offered me free tickets to come back, and said she'd speak to the staff. It was a nice offer, to be sure, but in order to take it, because I am disabled, there are so many complications:

1. I'd have to take a train into the city again. Trains cost money, to the tune of $50 for two round-trip tickets. Aside from the fact I'm a law student with no money, trains are difficult for me to travel on because of my joints. The jostling causes they to sublux and/or dislocate the whole ride there, and the whole ride back.
2. I'd have to come up with the money to take cabs up and back to the theater again. Like I said, I'm a broke law student. Subways and walking, which are great options for most people, aren't an option for me.
3. I'd have to find the time to actually GO to another show. I'm in class Monday through Thursday, from the morning through the evening every day but Thursday. If there are even shows on Thursdays, I'd have to try to take a train in during rush hour, which usually means there's zero seating left by the time I'd board. I can't stand for an hour train ride, because of my disability. On Friday, I work the entire day. On Saturdays, I usually have some time, provided I'm not cleaning, doing laundry, or running errands, i.e. doing all the things I don't have time for during the week. On Sundays, I spend the entire day doing homework to get ready for my next marathon week.

You would think, at a show that prominently features a disabled character with a not-so-obvious physical disability, that the staff would be more sensitive to the fact that people have hidden and invisible disabilities. The irony was not lost on me.

State of the Woman, Introduction & Part I: Why I Won't Call Myself a Feminist

This blog entry will be the first in a series I plan on posting focused on the state of women in America today. New entries in the series will be posted weekly for at least the next four weeks, in addition to posts outside the series. As a general warning, topics posted will reflect my own opinions and mine alone, which may be controversial. You are absolutely free to disagree and post your own opinions and feelings in the comments or elsewhere - and I encourage you to do so - but please keep your language free of bashing/hate speech. Comments that contain hateful language and/or personal attacks will be deleted.


When someone asks me, "Are you a feminist?" it's difficult for me to say, "No," as calmly as I should. I do believe in gender equality, and I think that whether you are female, male, or otherwise, you should have the same amount of autonomy as everyone else. But the words feminist and feminism get my blood boiling. Why do I loathe them so much?

Because I do not think the words themselves promote gender equality.

I am all for the empowerment of all people and for gender equality. I don't like the idea of us as Americans living in the world of George Orwell's Animal Farm, where "all animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others." I feel like the words feminist and feminism, being so close to  the word female, send the wrong message. They imply that feminism is about female empowerment, not gender equality. To me, the two are no longer one and the same.

I know the definition of the term has changed over time. Technically, according to Merriam-Webster Online, one of the two current definitions for the word feminism is "the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes." However, the second definition is "organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests." To me, those definitions are at odds with each other. Today, working for women's rights is not necessarily the same thing as working for gender equality. In a lot of situations it is, but there are a number of situations in which it isn't, meaning that women's rights ≠ gender equality. The two concepts aren't mutually exclusive, but they also can't be accurately substituted for each other in every situation.

Consider the hypothetical situation in which a city opens shelters for female domestic violence victims. Since the majority of domestic violence is perpetrated against females, this makes perfect sense, and women should have a place to go in order to escape being abused and get help safely exiting such a situation. No woman deserves to suffer at the hands of an abuser or be trapped with one. No one does. So, what do you do when a man is in need of the same services?

I realize that many people may scoff at that image - after all, male domestic violence victims are widely considered to be in the minority. That's great, but that doesn't mean they don't exist or that they have any less of a need for help. Since many shelters for battered women are for women only (for obvious reasons), how can you make sure people that are not female have the same right to help? How do you even define equal rights in this situation? Does each gender have equal rights if they have facilities in proportion with the predicted number of people of that gender who need them, or does the number and quality of facilities need to be equal? Is there gender equality if a man needs to travel further than a woman to obtain the same services?

In this hypothetical, whether you believe in women's rights or equal rights for all genders can matter quite a bit. Those who are primarily concerned with women's rights will applaud the decision, as these types of shelters are obviously clearly needed in many areas. Those who are truly concerned with gender equality will be uneasy. Sure, it's great that these resources are available to females, but what about the males in need of the same services? What about people that are transgendered? Even if more females need these services than anyone else, can there honestly be said to be equal rights among genders in this type of a situation? I don't think so.

Though many people who believe in gender equality will call themselves feminists, it's not a term I will ever be comfortable using to describe myself, because so many people associate it only with female empowerment. Every group, whether historically marginalized and disenfranchised or not, should be able to have the same rights to life, liberty, and happiness. Traditionally, that's what female empowerment was all about, allowing women to have the same rights as men. Today, in many ways, men and women are not equal - but women are not the only ones suffering because of it. That's why, in good conscience, I cannot identify as a feminist. Regardless of gender, all humans are should be equal, and some humans should not be more equal than others.