Law School, My Body, and Me
Blogging About Disablism Day happened on May 1 (thank you FWD (feminists with disabilities)) for making me aware of this. I was a little busy on the first (*shakes fist at* spn_j2_bigbang*)and while I don't have any grand or sweeping messages to make about what it means to be a feminist or what it means to have a disability I do have a story I can tell.
After all, stories are why we're all here in the first place, aren't they?
The basics, for those of you playing at home, in 2001 I started experiencing periods of crippling pain and exhaustion that no doctor I visited was able to explain, and would not be explained until 2006, a year into my legal education. In 2006 the name I finally had for my pain and exhaustion and sickness was fibromyalgia. Funny thing, though, there's no magic wand that just makes it go away or "cures" it, it's something I have to deal with everyday. However, it means a lot to me to know that I'm not alone in dealing with it, that other people trudge through life with the same or similar disabilities.
And it is a disability. I can't tell you how long it's taken me to use that word to describe myself and my life. Because, on one hand, there's the societal stigma against being disabled, as if having a different physical existence somehow makes you less of a person, and on the other hand I've known a number of people in my life who any person could pick out on the street as being disabled and it feels almost presumptuous of me to take that label for myself. I can still pass as normal. People don't look at me and see a 12 year old boy, people don't automatically talk down to me, in fact, most people don't notice me at all.
But, the fact remains that I am disabled, I am not able to function as other people function, I am not able to do all of the things that other people do, activities that came as naturally as breathing ten years ago are now things I have to plan for, plan around, or plain not do.
My life has been changed irrevocably by something over which I had no control, and still exert very little. I can take my medication but that doesn't mean that I'll be able to do everything, it just means that maybe, if I'm lucky, I won't be in continuing, debilitating pain during the day, that I might be able to fall asleep or sleep through the night. It's a tool I use to get up and do the things I absolutely have to do, even though there are still a book's worth of lists of things I need to do.
Attending law school only makes all of this harder. In fact, attending law school almost did me in. And I certainly don't attend law school the way other people do. Most terms I'm lucky if I have the mental and physical capacity to take two courses (around 6 credits, but 4 or 5 is better). I certainly don't have the energy to do extracuricular activities or volunteer at legal clinics or schmooze at the bar. I've been working so hard at just staying on top of the course requirements that suddenly, here I am, looking for externships and employment and I'm completely overwhelmed. I feel like there are all of these things that I needed to be doing semesters ago that I never did, and I never did them because I never knew how necessary they were.
And everytime I think about it I just want to curl up and cry. I did the best I knew how and it looks like it wasn't good enough. Hell, it looks like it wasn't even on the right playing field. While some of that is a result of anxiety issues 1 and a reserved nature, a lot of it is directly caused by my disability.
Going to law school has been the hardest thing I've ever done. I say this to people all of the time and they always reply with "It'll be worth it" or "It's almost over" but it doesn't feel that way. Last week I thought I'd be graduating in September but it looks like that date's been pushed back another term, again. Last week I thought there wouldn't be any trouble getting the federal loan money for the semester that pays my bills and allows me to eat but now I have to find a private lender to loan me enough money to get by.
The ridiculous thing is, I'm only now, while I'm sitting here, realizing that I could have looked for a students with disabilities group or an office at the school whose job it is to assist students with disabilities 2. I never even thought to do any of those things because it took me until the last few months to claim the term disabled for myself.
I am disabled. I am disabled. Being disabled isn't something to be ashamed of. I should not be afraid to ask for the things I need because I'm disabled. I should not be afraid to ask for help because I can't do everything on my own. There is nothing wrong or bad about any of this and anyone who says or acts or thinks that it is wrong or bad or that I should be ashamed of my disability is full of shit.
I'll move on from here. I'll wake up tomorrow morning and put one foot in front of the other and I'll keep trudging forward. They say that I'll look back and be glad I did it, that I pushed through to the end. I hope they're right.
~~~
1Mental health concerns and disabilities are severely stigmatized by society and I do not mean to add to that stigmatization here. However, the confessional mode I've adopted would require talking about personal mental health issues that deserve a post of their own. I do not think that any type of disability is more or less important than any other, I just don't have the capacity to talk about everything all at once.
2Fun fact: I just did a quick websearch for disability accommodations at my law school. There was an accessibility .pdf at the official website that mostly gave information about handicapped parking (always useful) and how to get academic assistance (something I've never needed). The only person to contact about disability concerns was a coordinator of "Student Services and Diversity Programs." I have yet to find a related student organization.
comments at http://liptonrm.dreamwidth.org/7357.html.
After all, stories are why we're all here in the first place, aren't they?
The basics, for those of you playing at home, in 2001 I started experiencing periods of crippling pain and exhaustion that no doctor I visited was able to explain, and would not be explained until 2006, a year into my legal education. In 2006 the name I finally had for my pain and exhaustion and sickness was fibromyalgia. Funny thing, though, there's no magic wand that just makes it go away or "cures" it, it's something I have to deal with everyday. However, it means a lot to me to know that I'm not alone in dealing with it, that other people trudge through life with the same or similar disabilities.
And it is a disability. I can't tell you how long it's taken me to use that word to describe myself and my life. Because, on one hand, there's the societal stigma against being disabled, as if having a different physical existence somehow makes you less of a person, and on the other hand I've known a number of people in my life who any person could pick out on the street as being disabled and it feels almost presumptuous of me to take that label for myself. I can still pass as normal. People don't look at me and see a 12 year old boy, people don't automatically talk down to me, in fact, most people don't notice me at all.
But, the fact remains that I am disabled, I am not able to function as other people function, I am not able to do all of the things that other people do, activities that came as naturally as breathing ten years ago are now things I have to plan for, plan around, or plain not do.
My life has been changed irrevocably by something over which I had no control, and still exert very little. I can take my medication but that doesn't mean that I'll be able to do everything, it just means that maybe, if I'm lucky, I won't be in continuing, debilitating pain during the day, that I might be able to fall asleep or sleep through the night. It's a tool I use to get up and do the things I absolutely have to do, even though there are still a book's worth of lists of things I need to do.
Attending law school only makes all of this harder. In fact, attending law school almost did me in. And I certainly don't attend law school the way other people do. Most terms I'm lucky if I have the mental and physical capacity to take two courses (around 6 credits, but 4 or 5 is better). I certainly don't have the energy to do extracuricular activities or volunteer at legal clinics or schmooze at the bar. I've been working so hard at just staying on top of the course requirements that suddenly, here I am, looking for externships and employment and I'm completely overwhelmed. I feel like there are all of these things that I needed to be doing semesters ago that I never did, and I never did them because I never knew how necessary they were.
And everytime I think about it I just want to curl up and cry. I did the best I knew how and it looks like it wasn't good enough. Hell, it looks like it wasn't even on the right playing field. While some of that is a result of anxiety issues 1 and a reserved nature, a lot of it is directly caused by my disability.
Going to law school has been the hardest thing I've ever done. I say this to people all of the time and they always reply with "It'll be worth it" or "It's almost over" but it doesn't feel that way. Last week I thought I'd be graduating in September but it looks like that date's been pushed back another term, again. Last week I thought there wouldn't be any trouble getting the federal loan money for the semester that pays my bills and allows me to eat but now I have to find a private lender to loan me enough money to get by.
The ridiculous thing is, I'm only now, while I'm sitting here, realizing that I could have looked for a students with disabilities group or an office at the school whose job it is to assist students with disabilities 2. I never even thought to do any of those things because it took me until the last few months to claim the term disabled for myself.
I am disabled. I am disabled. Being disabled isn't something to be ashamed of. I should not be afraid to ask for the things I need because I'm disabled. I should not be afraid to ask for help because I can't do everything on my own. There is nothing wrong or bad about any of this and anyone who says or acts or thinks that it is wrong or bad or that I should be ashamed of my disability is full of shit.
I'll move on from here. I'll wake up tomorrow morning and put one foot in front of the other and I'll keep trudging forward. They say that I'll look back and be glad I did it, that I pushed through to the end. I hope they're right.
~~~
1Mental health concerns and disabilities are severely stigmatized by society and I do not mean to add to that stigmatization here. However, the confessional mode I've adopted would require talking about personal mental health issues that deserve a post of their own. I do not think that any type of disability is more or less important than any other, I just don't have the capacity to talk about everything all at once.
2Fun fact: I just did a quick websearch for disability accommodations at my law school. There was an accessibility .pdf at the official website that mostly gave information about handicapped parking (always useful) and how to get academic assistance (something I've never needed). The only person to contact about disability concerns was a coordinator of "Student Services and Diversity Programs." I have yet to find a related student organization.
comments at http://liptonrm.dreamwidth.org/7357.html.