A memoir-in-essays from disability advocate and creator of the Instagram account @sitting_pretty Rebekah Taussig, processing a lifetime of memories to paint a beautiful, nuanced portrait of a body that looks and moves differently than most.
Growing up as a paralyzed girl during the 90s and early 2000s, Rebekah Taussig only saw disability depicted as something monstrous (The Hunchback of Notre Dame), inspirational (Helen Keller), or angelic (Forrest Gump). None of this felt right; and as she got older, she longed for more stories that allowed disability to be complex and ordinary, uncomfortable and fine, painful and fulfilling.
Writing about the rhythms and textures of what it means to live in a body that doesn’t fit, Rebekah reflects on everything from the complications of kindness and charity, living both independently and dependently, experiencing intimacy, and how the pervasiveness of ableism in our everyday media directly translates to everyday life.
Disability affects all of us, directly or indirectly, at one point or another. By exploring this truth in poignant and lyrical essays, Taussig illustrates the need for more stories and more voices to understand the diversity of humanity. Sitting Pretty challenges us as a society to be patient and vigilant, practical and imaginative, kind and relentless, as we set to work to write an entirely different story.
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. 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). 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.
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.
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. Or if you work in a service-occupation, read this to learn about your customers or the people you sww ever day. Or just plain read it. It is eyeopening and strong and inclusive.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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. 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.
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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.
I hesitated on writing a review of this book because honestly, I didn't love it. Let me explain further:
As someone who has been in a wheelchair my entire life (48 years), her experiences were all too familiar to me. And that in itself is sad. We do live in a world where ableism exists and I applaud her for wanting to educate people on that. However - I think it's important to note that not every disabled person takes offense when someone offers to help them. I certainly don't.
I think the author has made some great points in this book and I know some people will love it. However, I think the defensiveness in her words is very off putting - and really hinders the very message she tries to convey.
Life experience has taught me that not everyone will understand the journey we are on and it's important to give people the benefit of the doubt and be kind.
Ableism: “Discrimination in favour of able-bodied people.� (Oxford English Dictionary)
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.�
In , 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. �...wheelchairs are empowering, liberating tools for so many people...� 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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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!
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.
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.
This memoir () is written by and from the perspective of an author who acquired a paraplegic disability at an early age. She has a PhD in English so guess I shouldn’t be surprised by the good writing, but the narrative had me totally immersed into her world of dealing with both the social and personal issues that come from living in a nonconforming body. Using a combination of stories from her own life, similar stories of others, and providing commentary with insight and humor about access and inclusion, she makes a convincing case for ending the cultural invisibility experienced by disabled people and moving beyond the better-than-nothing and best-of-intensions approach that is common today.
It’s my understanding that this book is an outgrowth of with over 60K followers in which she has posted numerous “mini memoirs and photographs narrating life from my ordinary, resilient disabled body.� She also has a on which I noticed that three of her essays have been published by Time magazine. She also grew up and lives in the Kansas City metro area so some of her stories involve locations, schools, and businesses which are either recognizable to me or are likely guesses of mine as to their identity.
The book provides lessons for readers about , , and . I found it interesting that many of these lessons are told in the context of stories about her trying to teach a high school class about these concepts. Some of the push-back or lack of interest displayed by her students probably represented some of the thoughts and feelings of the readers of this book.
There’s an epilog to the book that had information that shocked me. One reason it shocked me is because I had not visited any of her social media sites so I didn’t know any current information about the author before reading the book. I’m not going to say what shocked me (you can read the book yourself), but one thing she did comment on in the epilog which I will repeat is the irony that when the COVID pandemic hit many businesses found ways for employees to work from home. Many of these businesses had previously said it was not possible to do such a thing. This is an example of finding ways to accommodate non-disabled people where no such consideration would have been previously provided for a person with a disability.
She also makes the point that there’s a spectrum of disabilities, and more people are going to end up on that spectrum than commonly considered to be the case. If injury or disease doesn’t disable you, old age will.
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.
Rebekah Taussig made me grow. She opened my eyes.
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.
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?
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.
A must-read for everyone - particularly those who wish to learn more about dismantling ableism and becoming an advocate for disability. Sitting Pretty 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.
Final impressions to follow. (Also, can I just say that audiobooks narrated by the authors themselves are unparalleled?)
Sitting Pretty is one of those books that I deeply wish would be required reading for literally every able-bodied person. Specifically, I wish more people would understand Dr. Taussig's quote of "everyone is living in a temporarily-abled body" because she's right; at some point in anyone's life we become sick, injure our bodies, or simply age and suddenly the world starts looking very different.
I will be the first to admit that I took mobility for granted until college where for four months my mobility was restricted by a foot injury and I found out how truly inaccessible my college campus could be. Then again, when I was struggling with a debilitating illness and experienced the perspective of how people struggling with "invisible disabilities" must handle advocating for themselves, constant shuffling between doctor visits, and people feeling they are entitled to know every detail of your life. There is a lot in this book that felt incredibly validating and yet I still learned so much from Dr. Taussig's unique experience and perspective!
The author shares some incredibly vulnerable thoughts and intimate experiences, but there is a lot of comedic relief incorporated as well. I really enjoyed the author's comedic style, but also her writing and narration (as I listened to this via audio) styles. Her narrative voice and auditory representation of her writing were amazing! The book is not entirely about Dr. Taussig's experiences as she frequently discusses larger struggles within the disability rights community, other people living with disabilities, and representation. I appreciated the deconstructing of some facets of ableism within American society - especially the ones that many people are suffering under. The discussion about health insurance and healthcare available to people with disabilities was especially harrowing. However, I also appreciated that she routinely reminds the reader that she is not the sole voice of the disability rights movement, or of every person with a disability, so she is only sharing her perspective. There were also a number of resources she provides at the end of the book for further reading or watching (with positive representation). I would add to this that if some readers want to know more about the history of the disability rights movement, there is a documentary called Crip Camp that talks about some of the beginnings of the movement and its escalation to pushing for legislative changes.
Naturally, there were many times while reading this book where I wondered what the author's thoughts were after experiencing the COVID-19 Pandemic. Suddenly, there is a much larger group of people who have been experiencing long-term health issues after infections and many industries that made accommodations for people that were previously denied to people with disabilities. I found it incredibly sad that such accommodations were made not to benefit people living with disabilities, but only deemed necessary to make the broader public's life easier. Although, this echoes much of Dr. Taussig's argument and criticism of how able-bodied people view - or rather pretend not to view - accommodations for people with disabilities. Luckily, there is a Post Script where the author discusses COVID-19, how it upended so much of the world, and what it meant for the future. Unfortunately, over three years on and Dr. Taussig had a much more optimistic view of how this worldwide experience might change the world for the better. Sadly, her ideas were not our reality and it has left me questioning what the next few years will look like and how people with disabilities will experience this new normal.
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, Sitting Pretty 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).
Another highly recommended book. I absolutely loved this book and think everyone should read it. I am a mostly able-bodied person, and though I like to think that I am perceptive and empathetic and in tune to the needs of accessibility, honestly this book showed me how very anti-disability access most of the world is, and how ignorant I was (and probably still am in some ways - one book is a start, not the fix).
As I listened to this, I spent good chunks of time walking around my neighborhood, and it was really interesting to see it from a perspective that I hadn't known (or thought) to see with before. I think that my neighborhood is doing pretty OK with accessibility - for example the sidewalks are wide, and almost all of the corner curbs are both ramped and studded (so that sight-impaired people can tell when they've reached it from the texture change), and there are both visual and auditory crosswalk signals (mostly - there's one at a particularly busy and tricky intersection near me that tends to light up with both Walk and Don't Walk at the same time, and has no auditory sound). But there are issues I found that absolutely prevent accessibility as well. Like missing or broken crosswalk signal buttons, or uneven pavement that is a trip hazard even for me and I would imagine is a difficult, if not insurmountable, obstacle for someone using mobility devices. Code enforcement utterly fails at ensuring that cars aren't parked blocking the sidewalks, meaning that people must go into the road to get around them. Dangerous for everyone, but particularly someone in a wheelchair, to navigate. Drain grates are a hazard due to the width and style of the grate which could catch a wheel and tip someone right out of a chair, etc.
The next town over has really abysmal accessibility - their curbs aren't ramped at all, and in some areas they don't even have sidewalks. The larger city I'm near revamped their entire downtown area not all that long ago, widening sidewalks, adding ramps, upgrading their crosswalk signals, etc... but then they do things like put a freestanding crosswalk button on a post right in the middle of the ramp, making it unusable. (I actually think that this has been rectified now, but who does that in the first place??)
So many of these things I have passed by every day of my life and never given a second thought (I mean except for the trip hazards, which have literally been impossible to miss when they almost murder me). It was really enlightening for me to see things from this new perspective.
I also really appreciated her perspective on kindness - particularly they sort aimed at being "kind" and "helping" disabled people navigate the world, especially when that "help" is less about the helping and more about the ego of the "helper". Some of the things that she called out seem so entirely obvious after being named, like how degrading it is to have your entire life minimized to someone's inspiration fetish, being called "brave" for just living your life, or to have your agency taken away by someone who feels it necessary to pray for your healing (gross on EVERY level), or to force their expectations or misconceptions or prejudices onto your body and experience without taking YOU as a person or your experience into account at all. It makes me feel a bit ashamed of myself for ever having held any of these ideas and attitudes. But, to be fair to myself, I have not lived an experience that would have made those connections. I live in an ableist society that centers able-bodied people's needs, and that makes tiny concessions to non-able-bodied people when forced to by law. So, now I can only listen, learn and try to be better moving forward, examine these ideas and attitudes, and try to help in ways that matter - like writing to my mayor or representatives to make sure that accessibility and safety measures are in place and working.
This book is really wonderful, and it honestly felt like having a conversation with a friend. Some of her stories were heartbreaking and mortifying, but the way she talked about them never felt pessimistic or hopeless. It just felt honest and candid and like an intimate teachable moment. I felt like she was letting me into her confidence to share her experience with me, warts and rude people and all, and I very much appreciated the knowledge and trust.
I cannot recommend this highly enough. Seriously, read it.
I have mixed feelings about this book. There are definitely many brilliant moments. As a disabled woman, I could relate to a lot of this memoir.
I am grateful the author repeatedly stated this is HER story; she does not claim to have all the insights nor all the answers. In her epilogue, she expressed a desire to hear more stories (and she recommended many books, podcasts, and IG accounts to follow.) I really need to write my own story!
My issue with the book is in what feels like whining in some instances. I get it; it's difficult and exhausting to advocate for ourselves. But to not be honest with your own friends or co-workers (e.g. about why you may not meet them for drinks) then question whether or not you fit in? Relationships take work. People with disabilities have particular issues that make the work hard, but everyone has issues! I frequently rolled my eyes and thought "grow up."
It's odd writing that last sentence. The author is well-educated, published, etc. I realize professional accolades certainly don't always translate into personal confidence. It was this "do I fit in" mantra that frustrated me. I don't fit in everywhere, but who does? There are many places I DON'T want to fit in.
Despite being disabled my whole life, I have never felt a part of the "disabled community." I didn't even know there was such a thing until my 30s. I am just a part of the community in which I live. Perhaps this is the root of my struggle with the book. My support systems and my faith have always led me to believe I belong. After finishing this book, I am even more grateful for having that blessing all these years.
Well-written lived experience exposing the destructive nature of ableism. But... it's a series of negative essays on what NOT to do when working, socializing, or encountering a disabled person. Where is the chapter on what you WANT us to do in those interactions??
I believe the author is highly educated, competent, and capable. But this book is a rant with no solutions or positive examples cited.
Rebekah Taussig’s essays about growing up in a wheelchair are an eye-opener for how much we as a society undervalue and ignore those with a disability. It’s not so much the obvious obstacles that she has to contend with in every day life, such as negotiating stairs but whether there will be room for her wheelchair in a restaurant or concert, if she attends a party at a friend’s house will she be able to get her wheelchair into the bathroom or will she have to avoid drinking anything? If she accepts an invitation to the prom will she be seen as a charity case and her partner lauded for his kindness? As she gets older there is the problem of dating and worrying about the physical aspects of sex. Then there is finding accessible housing so she can live independently.
I listened to the audiobook read by Rebekah Taussig herself. She is honest and funny and never self pitying as she makes a case for discussions on diversity to include the disabled in our quest to make society equitable for all. Highly recommended.
I will be shocked if this doesn’t wind up on my favorite nonfiction list for this year. I wasn’t familiar with Taussig before this book but my friend followed her on Instagram and told me about it. I had high hopes and it exceeded my expectations.
Rebekah Taussig issued an important invitation through this essay collection. She’s an extremely accomplished author. Her essays are a blend of vulnerability, humor, and education. I felt as if I was in conversation with her and perhaps that because she’s a teacher by background. Her essays are nuanced and considered. They had my mind racing with possibilities. But also, her prose is gorgeous and a treat to read.
Taussig is purposeful in opening up about her life as a wheelchair user to show just how ableist our society is. There were several things I hadn’t considered before, like the parties she wasn’t able to attend as a kid and her complicated feelings about not having experience street sexual harassment. I couldn’t help but think and reflect about my experiences as a medical social worker, as well as what disabled family members have experienced. That’s as it should be. No matter your knowledge or experience of disability, we need to think about the environment and people around you, as well as the ways you might perpetuate ableism. For instance, Taussig’s difficulty in finding a rental home that would work for her made me think about how my apartment building is not accessible. What would happen if I were to get seriously ill? Who is unable to visit my home as a result? This is something I’ll be keeping in mind when it’s time to move.
Accessibility benefits everyone. Taussig deftly shows this in example after example. Because here’s the thing: we will all likely experience disability at some point. As we age, our bodies and abilities change. It boggles my mind why this isn’t already a consideration for stores, restaurants, and venues. Why there isn’t more accessible housing—the waitlists for those needing assistance are truly heartbreaking. We have an opportunity to address ableism and discrimination and I hope we will take it.
Note: Taussig is a white cishet woman and she does her best to acknowledge her privilege and point out disparities, such as how much harder things are for POC who are disabled. I appreciated her inclusive language and clear attempt at intersectionality. There were a couple of instances where she could have gone further, such as mentioning the discrimination trans people face while she discussed the difficulties in accessing public bathrooms. But overall, I was really impressed. She does use some ableist terms for her disability, which is absolutely her right but since disabled people have a variety of opinions about the use of certain terms, I wanted to mention it. I did appreciate the lack of ableist language otherwise.
Content notes: diagnosed with unspecified cancer at 14 months old and paralyzed at 3 years old, ableism, internalized ableism, workplace discrimination, divorce, discussion of street sexual harassment, discussion of disabled women being at greater risk of sexual assault, discussion of fertility, pregnancy, spouse diagnosed with stage 2 colon cancer, COVID-19 (postscript), alcohol, inebriation, ableist language (limited to words for author’s disability), small dick insult, cissexist language, gender essentialism (countered through lens of ableism), parent with kidney disease, mention of fictional disabled character who died by suicide
Insightful and humorous, in Sitting Pretty Rebekah Taussig writes about the complexities of disability through her own personal experiences. She shares stories about dating, sex, difficulties finding housing, ableism, the need for feminism to become more inclusive when it comes to disability, and so many other topics. Taussig’s writing is very accessible, even when she’s covering more academic topics in disability studies the tone never gets dry or loses her voice. Definitely check this book out.
This book was incredible, and I'd recommend it to anyone and everyone.
Taussig covers so much material here: accessibility, representation, the limitations of "kindness", what it means for everybody who has a body to navigate an ableist society.
What surprised me the most was just how much common ground I found with the author. She really makes these complex topics universal.
In my search for good literature (both fiction and non-fiction) featuring disability I've come across many things: some nuggets of gold, some shiny things that looked hopeful, but turned out to be disappointing and a lot of unfortunate dirt... Still, it's those gold nuggets that make the journey worth while. Sitting Pretty is one of the best gold-chunks I've found among the bunch. Although we don't share our disability, the experiences she describes are universal enough to people struggling to fit in a world that wasn't always made with them in mind, that I found myself tearing up in recognition more than ones. Smart, insightful, full of character, and often hitting me personally right where it hurt: Rebekah Taussig has written the best piece of disability non-fiction I've read in a long time. I'm not sure if I will be able to "formally review" this, as it's maybe a bit to close to me, but if you take one thing from this review:
Please pick up this book: Rebekah Taussig has a voice to be heard!
I cannot adequately express how essential Rebekah Taussig's memoir is. Writing aside (Taussig is an excellent writer; her prose is funny, friendly, and warm), the content here is so necessary and overlooked, even in 2020. I was especially challenged by the chapter on feminism and what it means to be an intersectional feminist. I urge everyone to read this.
I'm ashamed to say I haven't read much into the topics of abelism and disability (other than following a few people in Instagram), and I thought a good jumping point would be a memoir. This audio book is narrated by the author, and chronicles various significant moments in her life as a member of the disabled community, and shine a light on just how abelist society is. It's the moments when she felt like a constant outsider, feeling invisible and a burden, to the more intimate social connections that felt brutally honest to read about that really made this a wonderful memoir. Rebekah doesn't shy away from exposing every vulnerable part of her life, and in such an articulate way.
I would really love to read a UK memoir exploring these topics if anyone has any recommendations.
"When you grow up in a world that doesn't see you or welcome you or include you or represent you, you believe the world isn't for you."
Sitting Pretty is an honest and funny memoir that shares Rebekah's experiences, reflections and thoughts as a young woman and disability advocate.
While this book wasn't written to educate, I certainly learned a lot from it, particularly how deeply ableism runs through our society and how important all types of representation is. I especially loved the essay on feminism, and the audiobook (narrated by the author) really brought Rebekah's words to a larger life. 5 beautiful and bright stars 🌟
An excellent book that brings up many great points and gets you thinking.
More things definitely need to change and those are disabled deserve to be treated with respect (and also the income limits of disability should raised... and other parts not to be so strict).
Would recommend this book.. enjoyed getting to know the author through here (she expressed herself very well)
To say that this book in necessary is a vast understatement. It reads like a conversation with a close friend who is comfortable to confide in you their most vulnerable secrets. I could picture myself sitting across from her with a steaming cup of tea, taking in everything that she was laying bare. Rebekah speaks of her experiences as a disabled woman, from childhood to the present. Her triumphs, her failures, and her hopes. She intertwines her story with factual information regarding the disabled community. This was an incredibly informative read. Not only is this educational on what the needs of the disabled community are, but what ableists need to relearn. Could this book make an able-bodied person uncomfortable? Probably. And it should. I was originally drawn to this book because I have a family member who is disabled, and there are so many things I want to do better for them without having to ask them to educate me. Because it shouldn’t have to be their job. And I am so incredibly thankful for this book. I read it slow because I was reflecting so much with each completed chapter. Rebekah inspires me to help amplify the voices in the disabled community, and from this book I have learned what actions I can take to be a better ally. I will be recommending this book to everyone that I know. And if you are reading this review, please do not hesitate to pick up this book and start reading.
Thank you to Harper Collins and Harper One Books for an eARC in exchange for an honest review.
this is a collection of essays that each detail various aspects of the author’s experience being disabled.
i really liked the format of this book. i don’t often read nonfiction, and when i do they often don’t consist of essays, but i think that this was a good layout for the book since different topics were discussed in detail.
i think this is a book everyone should read to make a more accessible and comfortable world for everyone.