Fixing It?

If authenticity represents a greater risk for disabled people, then how do you claim the joy Dr. Brene Brown contends comes from feeling connected which can only be achieved with authenticity and vulnerability? If societal expectations and perceptions of disability foster a disconnect how do you establish connection?

I have been struggling to answer these questions explicitly over the past week, but on some level my entire life. I know being authentic and vulnerable is not easy for anyone, disabled or not. My intuition says disability is a complicating factor like other marginalized group affiliations, but probably represents a dynamic with more impact than most. It is unique because society defines group membership by something the individual cannot "do", pigeonholes members into a tragic but brave category, and yet somehow ignores the fact that membership is a constant possibility. What my intuition refuses to cough up is the way to deal with disability so that it does not decrease one's chance to create connections.

I have some pieces of the answer, like shame. Dr. Brown defines it as the fear of not being worthy of connection – is there something about me that if others knew would make me unworthy in their eyes? Disability is in fact such a stigmatizing trait that we attempt to conceal, divorce ourselves from, and distract so others do not notice. Blind people wear dark glasses, learn to mimic sighted mannerisms, and my personal failing – become paranoid about clothes matching. People with scars cover them up. Deaf people sometimes hide their hearing aids. People with prosthetic legs avoid shorts. The list goes on.

I know and have sometimes parroted the rationalization behind concealment. We live in a world that perceives disability and the "defects" that define it as negatives. Hiding those traits facilitates social interaction. In other words, we do it to maybe avoid some of the crap dished out to us every day.

Yet in order to be authentic and vulnerable, disabled people need to stop hiding "flaws." This will in theory lead to a greater feeling of connectedness. My question, still unanswered, is whether the gain in authenticity can overcome the disconnect inherent in being disabled.

Long ago I stopped concealing my physical manifestations of disability, but I still experience shame. If people find out how much help I need, will they think I'm worthy of knowing? What if I seem incapable? Believe it or not, I experience shame simply by running into something while using my cane. Though I joke around about "sucking as a blind person," it's just a way of trying to coat my shortcomings in a layer of humor that might make them more palatable.

Maybe my problems finding connection are because I don't show my weaknesses. I equally know it is true that societal perceptions and expectations surrounding disability make connection more difficult. I am an imperfect being. The world is an imperfect thing. Guess we could all stand for some improvement.

Authenticity's Risk

Last night I listened to Dr. Brene Brown speak about vulnerability and feeling connected. Of course I immediately began putting it into a disability context.

Dr. Brown's overall message is that feeling connected to other people gives our lives meaning and purpose. In order to establish connections, we must allow ourselves to be fully seen by others – be vulnerable. Shame, a sense that if we were truly seen something about us would make us unworthy of love and belonging, often impedes upon this process. Simply put, we don't think we are good enough, so we do not let others see our weaknesses increasing our sense of disconnection. Thus, the ability to be vulnerable based on knowing you are "good enough" hence worthy of connection is essential to feeling connected.

I have written extensively about not having a sense of connection and struggling to find it. While being disabled in general and the way I write this blog in particular imply I am comfortable with vulnerability, I have started wondering if I do in fact have a vulnerability issue.

Consider what it means to be disabled. The things "wrong" with us carry a very heavy social stigma which means being vulnerable has a greater sense of risk. You often must parade your weaknesses before others in order to get what you need. Then there is the vulnerability inherent in having a condition that makes you dependent upon others. In fact, I would argue there is emotional vulnerability – the focus of Dr. Brown's research – and physical vulnerability. Their complex interaction changes the vulnerability/authenticity/connection relationship.

For example, a wheelchair user needs help eating constituting a physical vulnerability. Enlightening your personal assistant about what you think of their cooking could result in them immediately quitting. As anyone who uses personal assistants can tell you, finding a new one is a hard, prolonged process. Being authentic becomes more than a risk of being ridiculed with physical well-being on the line pitting it against a desire to feel connected.

If connection is indeed, as Dr. Brown argues, what makes life worth living, then the conflict becomes a no win situation. Authenticity makes joy possible. Authenticity risks physical welfare. While physical stability allows for the pursuit of connection and thus happiness, it is only gained through lack of authenticity that is anathema to connectedness. The only "solution" is to walk a tightrope trying to balance it all without ever truly getting one hundred percent of anything.

While other marginalized groups typically do not have a physical vulnerability component (except maybe women and rape), they do share a risk of vulnerability based on the social stigma of their group membership. We are burdened by increased risk because our actions are viewed through the filter of stereotypes. A woman speaking out is vulnerable to criticism of being a "bitch." An Asian man into all things geeky risks being dismissed with a shrug and "figures" if he expresses his passion. Marginalized group membership comes with a increased vulnerability. Remaining authentic in the face of it takes a little extra wherewithal.

Societal expectations about disability and other marginalized groups further complicate the situation. Visible signs of disability status often are stigmata we try to conceal with dark glasses, clothing style choices, cosmetics, and other things. This grants social affirmation because it fulfills the expectation that we try and look "normal." An normalized appearance supposedly makes it easier to get a job, create friendships, find romantic love... Since it also is decidedly not authentic, it may place a ceiling on how much connectedness is achievable.

If authenticity threatens social acceptance and risks physical well-being, how can you be vulnerable to achieve social connection and thus happiness? Great question for another entry.