Sitting Pretty: The View from My Ordinary Resilient Disabled Body

I honestly think this is a must read for everyone. I am old enough that I’m not embarrassed to admit when I’ve been completely ignorant on a topic, and I absolutely was about disabled people. As Dr. Taussig points out, the message she often receives from the world at large is “we’re just not thinking about you at all”. Well. I am certainly thinking about her, and all disabled people now. <br />The author also points out that disabled people, who have to find workarounds all day, everyday, just to do the simple things that able bodied people take for granted could be some of the most out of the box thinkers we have. Let’s utilize that. (Like, let’s seriously utilize that, especially during a global pandemic). <br />I don’t like to do super long reviews but this book was really excellent. Read it!

I cried so many times while listening to this book, for it was so clearly written for me! I've been in a wheelchair for 3 years, and have been struggeling with it on many levels. This book put words to those struggles, made me feel less alone, and opened my eyes in ways I didn't know they needed opening. <br /><br />I'm in awe of this woman who knows we so well but that I have never met. I am in awe that she is out there and speaking up. I am grateful for that, as well. <br /><br />So I'm just going to tell everyone to read this! If you have a disabled person in your life, read it! - it may tell you things they are afraid to say, because they don't think you will understand. <br />Or if you work in a service-occupation, read this to learn about your customers or the people you sww ever day. <br />Or just plain read it. It is eyeopening and strong and inclusive. <br /><br />We are lucky to live in a world where a book like this is published, but still there is so muhc for us to do! The fight isn't over by a long shot. So read this book !

Rebekah Taussig's Sitting Pretty is the kind of book I never know I need until I pick it up. The kind of book that connects with the deepest hidden parts of how I feel about and engage with the world. The kind of book from a perspective that understands because they, too, have lived it. Her and I do not have the same disability, but our experiences connect all the same. If I learn anything about being disabled in the world the longer and deeper I'm in it, it's that the experience of disabled people trying to live in a society that would prefer to pretend you aren't there is shockingly (or not) universal. <br /><br />I, too, was only made aware of how different I was because kids at school made sure I knew what normality meant, and that I was on the outside of it. I, too, have battled the Social Security office for supplemental income only to realize accepting it is conditional on not having a job at all. I, too, have descended into sheer and blinding panic over losing medical insurance and the pressing need to have a job with good coverage just so I can afford to live, and battled over finding truly accessible housing. It's a hard battle to keep fighting, and one no disabled person really gets a choice in entering into.<br /><br />But it isn't without its shining moments either. Reading this book was like finally being seen, heard, and deeply understood. Feeling that connection on the level of my disability is incredibly rare, and Taussig's vulnerability, charm, and wit about it felt like a gift. Every complex emotion about how difficult it is - or even what it means - to connect with people, she understands. The revelatory discovery that society's structure is the problem, not how you live in it, didn't really hit me until college either. Up 'til then I had been beating myself up and feeling like a burden in the world almost daily, because I didn't see anything in the world telling me that I was even worth a second glance. My family is a rock solid base I am eternally grateful for, but the world at large very clearly wanted to erase me from existence, and for a time I believed that was as much as I was worthy of. But then, something clicked in me, and it keeps clicking today. <br /><br />The first time I saw someone like myself in media (that wasn't, like, a villain or a token friend, or someone who needed to be made over to be worthy of love) was in a Target Halloween ad. A little girl with crutches was in an Elsa costume in the middle of the page, no larger or smaller than anyone else, but there. And I cried. I was in college, and it was the first time I saw something I always knew deep inside of me I needed to see. I've seen it more often in the years since, but the feeling never changes. A rush of happiness and validation that yes! I belong here just as much as you do! My presence in this world matters! We don't need media to tell us that, of course, but to think media has no effect on social thought is folly. I didn't cry over that Target ad just because it was something I needed to see. I did it because there are kids in the world out there who need to see it too. Who would get just as excited about seeing themselves on that page as I did.<br /><br />This is part of Taussig's point, of course. Growing up and going through the world disabled means growing through and with a unique kind of pain, physical and otherwise, that shifts and morphs but never truly leaves. The pain of knowing how different you are, feeling people's eyes on you no matter where you go, having safety concerns entirely unique to your body and mental state. Seeing someone else put down in words about being afraid of things like taking an Uber because, what if they withheld my mobility aid? I wouldn't be able to get away as quickly as other people; or being the only visibly disabled person in the room and feeling other people's tension rise when something awkward happens; or the quandary of do I really have the energy to speak up about this societal overlook or can I just put up with the inconvenience? was uniquely refreshing. <br /><br />Many things she discusses in Sitting Pretty I have only in recent years begun to puzzle over, and finding solidarity in someone being worried about the same things for the same reasons was comforting in a way I didn't really know I needed. We're all shut up in quarantine right now, and it's a very lonely experience, but this book was a much needed reminder that every question I ask myself about my place in the world and my abilities to navigate it is not unique to me.<br /><br />I write about representation in media for the same reasons it feels like Rebekah Taussig wrote this book: if we want the world to truly be a better place, we have to have as many voices at the table as possible. Even when the stories aren't centered on a disabled person, their input can and should be considered. We've gone a long time being overlooked, but any world that overlooks minorities of any kind is an incomplete one. Disabled people aren't asking to be the center of every conversation. Just to be included. To be seen. To be heard. Improving the world for us, believe it or not, improves the world for everyone else, too. <br />I cannot recommend Sitting Pretty loudly enough. A vital and vulnerable memoir about the importance of inclusion and the rough edges of growth of understanding.<br /><br /><br />---<br /><br />I would like to thank HarperCollins and NetGalley for the opportunity to read an advance copy in exchange for an honest review. This one means so much.

<b>Ableism: “Discrimination in favour of able-bodied people.” (Oxford English Dictionary)<br /><br />Rebekah Taussig’s definition: “the process of favoring, fetishizing and building the world around a mostly imagined, idealized body while discriminating against those bodies perceived to move, see, hear, process, operate, look, or need differently from that vision.”</b><br /><br />In <a href="https://goodreads.com/book/show/52167161.Sitting_Pretty_The_View_from_My_Ordinary_Resilient_Disabled_Body" title="Sitting Pretty The View from My Ordinary Resilient Disabled Body by Rebekah Taussig" rel="noopener">Sitting Pretty: The View from My Ordinary Resilient Disabled Body</a>, Rebekah Taussig, Ph.D., has written a book that is a memoir, but it is so much more. She became ill with cancer as an infant, and after treatment with chemotherapy and surgery, her legs became paralyzed when she was three. Her parents treated her the same as their other five children; she didn’t even get a wheelchair until a few years later. Throughout the book, Taussig relates childhood memories of school and events where she struggled to fit in; sometimes she succeeded, and other times she retreated to the safety of home and family. <b>“...wheelchairs are empowering, liberating tools for so many people...”</b> I’m often saddened to hear people say that someone is “confined” to a wheelchair. Perhaps, for someone who has been ambulatory for many years, it is a great loss, yes. But for someone like Rebekah, it gives great freedom to go many places.<br /><br />She writes with great honesty and humor about her feelings, her dreams, her passions, her successes, and her failures. She longed to see herself as beautiful and sexy like her sister – but saw herself in the mirror and feared that no one would love her. How would she ever be independent? Hold a job? Live on her own? This fiercely independent, intelligent woman must battle every day to do the things we able-bodied folks take for granted.<br /><br />I worked professionally with adults who had developmental and physical disabilities for more than two decades. It was challenging, physical work, but I learned so much, received so much. Each of those individuals in some way became a part of me. Even those with the most limited communication abilities could express emotions and respond to human interactions. Reading Dr. Taussig’s book was yet another awakening for me – each person’s journey is unique. I thoroughly enjoyed her chapters on trying to educate high school students about persons with disabilities.<br /><br />There is a tendency to lump people together and slap a label on them. “Those people.” Immigrants. Gays. The disabled. While Taussig understandably focuses on accessibility issues of those like her who use wheelchairs, she also mentions those who have hearing deficits and ADHD. She makes scant mention of visual impairment or mental illness. Aside from the physical barriers and attitudes she and others encounter, there are the practical matters of survival, which she also addresses. Discrimination and red tape exists, both in the private sector and in government programs. And all too often these are the people who are left out of the conversation when it comes to planning and addressing the problems that affect their lives.<br /><br />I could go on and on. Rebekah Taussig shows us who she is, the whole package. She covers a wide range of subjects, from what it means to be a woman, to being a teacher, to the physical problems she encounters, her fears, and her hopes. She tells us she’s not always brave, but when she is, she gets on her soapbox and speaks up, loud and proud! <br /><br />My thanks to the brave readers who have put themselves out there saying that they, too, have a disability and identified with much of what was written. Dr. Taussig, the world needs your voice. I hope many, many people will read this book!<br /><br />4 stars

5/5stars<br /><br />Wonderful. A PERFECT place to start with disability studies. Although I felt like I knew/had heard the majority of what Taussig said in this, she put it in such an accessible and easy to follow way. Absolutely loved this.

This was perfection on audio. Also, this book made me think more and made me more uncomfortable than the first time I read about white privilege. I have a lot to sit with and think about in regards to my physical privilege and how I interact with the people and bodies around me. I will also think before throwing my self-centered “help” at those who likely don’t even need it.<br /><br />Profound and personal and left me wanting even more, which led me to the author’s Instagram account @sitting_pretty which led me to realize what her life since October 2019 has been like and dear Lord. I can’t wait to continue reading her writing on that platform.

A must-read for everyone - particularly those who wish to learn more about dismantling ableism and becoming an advocate for disability. <i>Sitting Pretty</i> is a nuanced, beautifully written memoir that challenges our ideas, perceptions, and assumptions about inclusivity and how we ought to build a more inclusive world to live in.<br /><br />Final impressions to follow. (Also, can I just say that audiobooks narrated by the authors themselves are unparalleled?)<br /><br />?? <a href="http://shutupshealea.com" rel="nofollow noopener">More bookish content on Shut up, Shealea</a> ??<br /><a href="http://instagram.com/shutupshealea" rel="nofollow noopener">instagram</a> • <a href="http://pinterest.com/shutupshealea" rel="nofollow noopener">pinterest</a> • <a href="http://twitter.com/shutupshealea" rel="nofollow noopener">twitter</a> • <a href="http://ko-fi.com/shutupshealea/" rel="nofollow noopener">ko-fi</a><br />

Thank you so much to Rebekah Taussig for providing her perspective from her wheelchair bound, amazing body in her memoir Sitting Pretty: The View from My Ordinary Resilient Disabled Body. I have always considered myself a skilled empath (yes, I know how that sounds, but for the sake of this review roll with me here) but I had never actually taken much time to think of the experience of disabled people (again, I know how that sounds, but reflect: how much time have you carved out to consider this?). Of course I've seen them, known them, and even loved them more than anyone else, as near the end of her life my mother was quite severely disabled, but I haven't thought much about how they move through the world and how the world moves against them. I haven't thought about how they are constantly portrayed as victims, as people who need healing and change, as secondary characters in both fictional and real-life narratives of do-gooders in this world. I've used the accessibility stalls when I thought it wouldn't inconvenience anyone. I've lived life not fully aware of how the world is made for me and not made for others, even though I consistently try to be aware of this and learn and grow.<br /><br />Rebekah Taussig made me grow. She opened my eyes.<br /><br />Her story was so powerful. I really took so much away especially from her experience teaching teenagers. Disability itself isn't necessarily something that needs to be fixed. The world and its accommodations of those disabilities is a more important thing to focus on. Sending the message to disabled folks that there is something inherently wrong about them that should be righted is so damaging, but it is all too often the message sent and message received. People with disabilities are also often the source of "inspiration porn," dehumanizing them and their needs, treating them as though they only exist to serve the positive emotions and warm fuzzies of other people. Finding and affording suitable housing, having a career, affording healthcare, and so many other issues overtake the lives of these individuals, all these things we take for granted because they're hard enough for able-bodied people and so it becomes hard to imagine how much more difficult they are when you are not entirely able-bodied. <br /><br />Rebekah also points out that those of us who live long enough will also come to struggle with disability. It's important to consider this now, and always, and understand that one day the walk up the stairs to the office may no longer be possible, that one day holding the fork up and swallowing our food may not be possible, and what can we do to make these things more accessible for those who need accommodation now and those of us who do not but will later in life?<br /><br />I will see the world differently forever because of this book and will actively seek out more disabled perspectives. Thank you to Rebekah Taussig for teaching me so much. That shouldn't and doesn't need to be her job, but she takes it on anyways, and I and so many other readers have benefitted and are endlessly grateful.

Too often in our discussions about diversity, we leave disability out of the conversation. In this memoir-in-essays, Rebekah Taussig brings her fresh and incisive voice to the table, sharing her story of what it’s been like growing up and living in her “ordinary resilient disabled” body. With humor and honesty, <i>Sitting Pretty</i> examines ableism in our society, which includes lack of representation, inclusivity, and accessibility, and also reveals the ways well-meaning nondisabled folks disregard and undermine the experiences, desires, and abilities of disabled people. While this book is a lesson in disability studies and intersectionality, it is also a love story with a message of empowerment and body positivity at its center. I highly recommend it to anyone who has a body (and also a heart).

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