Friday, April 13, 2018

Post 12 from Lisa on BODIES

Wow! Blink from January to now and we have traversed more topics than my brain can fully absorb, filter, and build solid conclusions to express. Considering each separately, there’s still so much overlap. It is much like a cyborg of differing themes that heighten our awareness for each item separately but have exponential value when considered in tandem. How’s that for killing the normalizing binary system of boxes?

In The Wheelchair’s Rhetoric: The Performance of Disability, Petra Kuppers explores the tendencies and repercussions of disability in terms of race and fantasy, saying “disalignment and intersection (rather than unity and closure) are core principles in Gómez-Peña’s ‘experimental cartography’ of a postcolonial world.” Petra includes many poignant concepts that I believe have helped shape the changing narrative to rebuke norms and postcolonial paralysis or, at least, increase awareness and acceptance of what’s beyond the binary box of our past ingrained narrative. He poses that, “Disability signifies, and at the heart of its signification is loss-including culture’s loss of how to deal with difference.”

Paul Longmore and Lauri Umansky write: “Americans often perceive disability-and therefore people with disabilities-as embodying that which Americans fear most: loss of independence, of autonomy, of control; in other words, subjection to fate.” Our common fate is death. Our ability to pathologize people visibly or behaviorally different than us (queer, crip, etc.) may only be the best coping mechanism we have adopted, for lack of a better one. But we have a duty, as actors to demystify the most invisible members of our world. Pedro de Senna, with Caroline Bowditch and David Bower in ‘Nothing About Us Without Us’: Collaborations between Disabled and Non-Disabled Practitioners’ identifies that, “Audiences coming into contact with disability arts often bring their prejudices with them.”

It reminded me of the Elephant Man, a play by Bernard Pomerance and film directed by David Lynch based on the life of Joseph Merrick, a freak show act who later was courted as a London society man. Once exposed, I fell in love with the story of this man who had two simple life desires: to be a respected man (not exploited for his deformities), and a loved man (who was looked at by a woman in any other way but pity).
Here’s a picture of Joseph Carey Merrick (5 August 1862 – 11 April 1890), often incorrectly called John Merrick, courtesy of Wikipedia. I came up empty handed when curiosity sent me looking for a history of actors with disability playing the part of Joseph Merrick. I wouldn’t have thought of this possibility prior to this week, because actors, able or non-able bodied, queer or not queer, study and tell the story of whatever character for which they are cast. I feel a sense of guilt in looking back at my upbringing and socially accepting ignorance that it was never in the running conversation of my life to consider just how invisible people can become who live outside and of the able-bodied-cisgender-straight identity norms. This reality is unacceptable for anyone. If it has happened, that actors with disabilities have played this particular role, does that change the conversation and why would it have been mentioned in the review? When something is disaligned with “how we’ve always done it,” it becomes a highlight of the narrative, even if the action was not intended to be a signifier, but it builds intersections for conversation, though not always productive. However, using “crip” or “queer” as a signifier versus an alienation device increases awareness until the conversations shift into the norm. Until we arrive there in this narrative, not including the signifier is a disservice to moving forward.
Side note: I found an interesting signifier of disability from 1776. Stephen Hopkins, a man with cerebral palsy, one of the signers of the Declaration Of Independence was quoted as saying, “my hands may tremble, my heart does not.” I may be afraid to engage in this narrative for fear of being politically incorrect or too set in my ways but, gosh darn it, I will be part of the narrative with my hands shaking, knowing that my heart has been in it even before my body decided to catch up.

The Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), 1990, Defines a person with a disability as, “a person who has a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activity. The law prohibits discrimination against individuals with disabilities in all areas.” I find it fascinating that, also included in the law, is “individuals who do not have a disability but are regarded as having a disability […] or have a record of such impairment, even if they do not currently have a disability.” Additionally, it is “unlawful to discriminate against a person based on that person’s association with a person with a disability.” https://adata.org/faq/what-definition-disability-under-ada The Americans with Disabilities Amendments Act (ADAAA) went further in 2008 to include equal rights among not only public places but private employers with more than 15 employees, labor unions, and more.


That the laws must go to such lengths to protect those who support anyone with a disability in any relational capacity leads me to believe that there has been a substantial body of people who have been discriminated against and felt the need to respond, simply for associating with a person who has a disability. I am angered and surprised. However, movements to enact laws such as these are the very reason narratives have changed. Our norm is very different from the norm in the 70’s when many people with physical disabilities could not regularly access public courthouses to vote, let alone be considered equally for work. From that lens, I can only imagine how different our “today” may have seemed like a sci-fi futuristic dream. This is not even including all facets of queer identity and the state of conversation when considering the longevity of a movement before change begins to be visible.

Now the conversation gets even more multifaceted and convoluted. In I, Cyborg, Ellen Pearlman paints a picture of a world that uses technology to open doors that were once closed to people with non-visible disabilities and that “one hundred years from now it will be quite normal to be a cyborg.” However, the visible disability comes for Harbisson when he cannot move through airport security without taking off his device until he is allowed to get a passport picture with the device. How much performing and self-advocating had to happen in order to break through that barrier? How many other people had to be part of the narrative and be convinced, before he could easily pass through security? These, seemingly minute details cause ripple effects in the life of each person who experiences them.

So many offerings in class were originally going to make the cut in addition to much more conversation about queer theory regarding casting, but I’ve reached my word limit (exit pride and missed opportunities). So, I will close with one offering that stood out to me most, thanks to Sara Osi Scott, because I believe she worded it well. As actors, what is most important is “Having utmost respect for the perspective of the group of people we are attempting to represent.” 

My heart is glad for every one of you and your insights and proud to be amongst you learning every day. 
-Lisa 


So, for this week I offer some choose your own adventures:
1)    Sci-fi shows have, in many cases, been nearly spot on with their improved “vision of the future” technologies and shift in awareness of people who look, sound, or even smell differently. (Ex: Star Trek Next Generation scanners reading vital signs compared to our current thermometers that are drawn across the forehead to read body temperature / the hover board from Back to the Future could be closer than what we think )

If you could create a “vision of the future,” choose one perspective, capital T truth, or “box” society in general currently accepts (whether you agree or not, it is society’s current treatment) and significantly queer it, name it and explain the ramifications we could benefit or suffer from as a result. What is this new world? What do you see as the new future if this one thing could be possible? (Going overboard could be really fun here in fantasyland!)
  
2)    Name a time in your life, an experience with someone else, or a performance where your perspective of disability was turned on its head. (Perhaps you were the one with the disability). There are no limits and no judgements, find a way to relate on your turf. Remember, disability means “a person who has a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activity.” It does not include the words “terminal” or “chronic.”

 
3)    Riff on the stuff I missed in this post, primarily focusing on the queer theory part of the conversation. So much of it is worth riffing on:
  1. The four solo autobiographical performances such as “‘Yeah, you’re right. I’m queer, I’m crip. So what?’ does not always undercut ‘the power of those who want us dead.’”
  2.  The Cyborg in Us All – using implants on the damaged tissues that cause seizures and more.  
  3. Jillian’s “Dawn of the ‘Tryborg’ ”
  4. Romanska’s Escape from the Circus.
 

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