Crip. Queer. Freak. Democrat. Activist. Southerner. Korean-American. Woman??
I’ve been taking a Women’s Literature class at school and it’s really the only women’s studies type of class offered. Luckily, the professor is open-minded and well-versed in issues like class, reproductive rights, racism and heterosexism.
The more we study, the more I realize how much I’ve never really reflected on my experiences as a woman (…and, yes, I’m one of those people that reflect and self-examine everything.) I’m not sure that my professor believes me when I say this but I’ve only grown to understand my body in terms of disability, queerness, and as an API (asian pacific islander) person. Yes, my life experience has been shaped by my military family background, class privilege, fundamental Christianity, and a bi-racial, bi-cultural, bi-lingual family. But being female?? No. I haven’t thought of my body or experience in terms of gender.
Disability on the other hand is such a strong part of my identity---saying something like “I don’t see myself as disabled or having a disability” is not really an option for me. Disability has framed my every experience; even when I am doing something that seems totally unrelated to disability (let’s say, going shopping or painting a picture), disability still plays a part because lack of accessibility or a barricade of bigoted attitudes will affect the shopping trip and my experience as a disabled person will come out in my art. Maybe not in terms of scaling a mountain (Korean culture cares more about SAT scores) but my life, until recently, can be described as that of the “supercrip”--- the disabled person who has everything to prove to the world and is made into an inspirational “crip on a stick” (as my friends like to say.)
But back to my experience as a woman… as much as I talk about loving your own body, I know I still internalize society’s concepts about disability and desexualize myself. My mother and I still refer to a period as “that thing” like it’s Voldemort (old fashioned Harry Potter reference there, folks) and we‘ve been doing that for almost a decade now. I love who I am. I love my body. Why am I doing this?
I think this is perhaps why I took the Katie Thorpe story that emerged last month so personally. The whole premise of removing her uterus was that she was not a woman but a disabled person. But the thing is, she and I are both. In fact, we are many things. Who we are is made of a cloud of identities (but not necessarily labels). My friend Joe (philosophercrip) often quotes Albert Camus by saying “the only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.” Until we are able to accept all of who we are, we are internalizing shame and allowing ourselves to be oppressed by others.
