Bowling For Aurora

Today, after 12 people have been shot to death eight miles from the house I grew up in, my mind immediately goes back to the first time a massacre happened six miles from home, Columbine High School.

For the sake of making a point, I dug up a photo from what could be entitled “The Awkward Years-High School, 1999”. Yes, I still have my Irish eyebrows and an immense amount of bangs and no, Harry, Martina Navratilova was not actually my fashion adviser. Yet, I urge you to look a little bit closer at my 15 year old face. My teeth reveal (besides a mouth full of braces) a smile full of “would-could-be”. My only piece of jewelry I’m rocking is a Virgin Mary pendant, showing to the world my faith in God and humanity. Wow! Young people are shockingly and perhaps, painfully hopeful. Then on April 20, 1999, streams of ambulances, fire trucks, police cars screamed down University Blvd headed to Columbine High School where two disgruntled students had killed one teacher and 12 students. For me, the illusion of safety was immediately gone. Yes, horrific stuff can and probably will happen in any venue. However, in my opinion, children are too ill-equipped to deal with trauma. So my humble question is, besides the useless (and predictable) prayer vigils, condemnations from politicians and hoards of Facebook updates on the subject, what have we done to make Colorado and the rest of the world a safer place for the next generation? For more information on someone who has made the world a bit safer, visit www.danielmauser.com, the website of a family of a fellow nerd who perished at Columbine.

Best T-Shirt of the Week

As anyone with decent eye-sight can see, I have the map of Ireland on my face. So every year, I say no to melanoma and hobble out to the not-so disability friendly Colorado Irish Festival. Despite the nice lookin' Irish Footballers, flowing adult beverages and free food, the best part of the day was watching a chubby kid gobble down several turkey legs, proudly donning the following t-shirt:

Bear with me friends! The new mega level of chemo has brought my adventures to a halt for just a short time. The methotrexate and perhaps the Remicade have me worshiping at the porcelain god. Meanwhile, I am excited to present a new series on the Mexican president campaign from the people who know it best, Mexican campaign workers. Stay tuned mi gente!

In praise of good men (and a bit of funny about the other kind)

In light of the recent gravity of the last post, I think a piece of my dating museum should be finally opened and shown to the public, admission free!! Lola, Ginger, and really any of you kids who can remember any stand-outs that should be put an exhibit, please notify me. Carlo, an acquaintance from college, who called me on the 4th of July 2011 and asked to marry me. For the record, the whole thing lasted less than Kim Kardashian and that guy from Minnesota. Barney, a wonderful (or atleast by appearance) Catholic man who went to mass daily. We went on a dinner date until he showed me his favor things to wear at Victoria’s Secret. Vince, a seemingly decent guy who bought me flowers right after my hip surgery. The night after we went to dinner, his cousin called me frantic because he was nowhere to be found--that is until we found him in the Aurora City drunk tank. And saving the best for last, Eddie, whom I met one fateful night out with Lola and the girls at the infamous Church. Eddie and I hit it off, had several dinners together and even attended Easter Mass together. Why I thought I might have found my media naranja. I was dancing on air the Saturday he invited me for brunch at Le Peeps, as we ate Denver omelets and kissed over orange juice. Yet, right before he passed the toast, he announced in a matter-of-a-fact way he had a bank to rob that afternoon. Check please! The point of this rather pointless article is that there are all kinds, male and female and that yes, it happens to everyone. Please feel free to share your misadventures with me, La Coja.

¿Que pasó a La Coja? Or where did she go?

Let me start by saying that how sad it makes me to have abandoned my poor little blog all by itself in bloglandia, flaying against spam and fighting against the internet evils without the help of its creator. I let my readers down, I let the blogito down and yes, I let myself down. That being said, a few things have happened in the interim. Voyeurs—you just hit the jackpot. 1. May 2010- I developed a new nickname (rhymes with Typhoid Mafia) a contracted a month-long period of typhoid in San Fidel. On the upside girls, I fit back in my skinny jeans. 2. Nov 2010- I developed a case of walking pneumonia and strep so severe it took a month of antibiotics to see my throat. After getting my share of communicable diseases, I made the wrenching decision to return to the United States, a very painful choice I still lament today. 3. Nov 2010-April 2011- Even though I was back in the United States, I continued to get sick with upper respiratory infections bimonthly while I continued with Orencia, an anti-Rheumatoid Arthritis drug. 4. May 2011- By the time May rolls around, my former rheumatologist finally gets off his bum and decides to test me for Primary Immune Deficiency Disease (PIDD), a condition in which one is missing one or more antibodies. 5. July 2011- I am in fact diagnosed with PIDD and am taken off Orencia and all other anti-Rheumatic drugs. My only treatment: a unique combination of Vicodin and steroids with the result being moments of excruciating pain, crying jags, raging over lack of Diet Coke availability and being absolutely fascinated by Scooby Doo episodes. 6. August 2011- I start IVIG or as it’s known around here, Hobo Juice. I take it at home, infusion-style once-month and it works like all drugs are advertised. 6. March 2012- I am finally allowed to start Remicade, a so-far excellent anti-rheumatic drug after more than half of a year with NO treatment. On a lark, I decide to apply to for a Master’s of Interpretation at a prestigious school in California. 7. April 2012- I am accepted into school with scholarship, surprisingly the hell out of me and decide to move to Mexico for the summer to increase my grammatical skills in May. 8. June 2012- Well, after three glorious weeks back in the home country with friends and family, my health took a turn for the worst. After a hospital stay and an ultimatum from my former rheumatologist, I had no choice but to return to the US once again. (Collective sigh) The point of this blog is not to feel pity for me (to quote a great friend and disability advocate, “Piss on Pity”), nor wonder what in the world I’m doing with my life (although trust me, I wonder that daily too. I don’t know quite what will happen after this, but all I ask is you just take my crooked hand and see how high we can fly. After all, Superman too had a disability.

I don't have your disease but......

I have decided to add a new feature called "I don't have your disease/disability but.."
As anyone who has a disability/disease (or loves someone with one) knows, there is no end of advice from dummies and well meaning idiots on how to improve your life.

So let me start off this inaugural post with a recent experience of mine.


One of my doctor friends informed me in the midst of a beer that if I gain more weight, my joints will effectively crumble.
As most people know, telling a woman she has gained weight or really just mentioning the word fat is akin to a death wish. But you know, what would the disabled/sick do without the guiding light of people who know better?

Japi Verday to me

I celebrated a wonderful birthday with La Osa, Doctor Kansas City, El Cunao, La Sabia and others. The video is of Doctor Kansas City at his best



More to Come

Cripplesize

Finding the energy to workout without a daily serving of cocaine is difficult for the general public no less for people with physical restrictions/disabilities. When just getting out of bed and surviving a 'flare' day is an excruciating battle, the gym seems just as superfluous as themed hat on a shitzu puppy. Many fitness experts suggest that one try to find ways to burn calories throughout their daily routine. I recently began to look around the town where I live in and decided that indeed these experts might be onto something.

Here are some ideas when living in San Fidel

1. Run, skip, wheel or hop along side the bad ass looking cholo and his equally bad ass looking truck blasting the backstreet boys and britney spears

2. Do a jumping jack everytime someone tells you they came here to 'reinvent' themselves

3. Exercise with friends. This works particularly well if you are a person looking for love. Position said friends a key points around the downtown as well as one as a lookout person in the hills. Trade positions as you zero in on the prey.

4. Wear sensible shoes when exercising. Birkenstock with white socks are a popular local option

5. For the gentleman dressed by his wife, San Fidel shops offer a great opportunity for weight bearing activities as you cart the purchases
6. Run dont walk to your next facelift



Love to all,
La Coja

The Pied Piper of Rheumatoid Arthritis

I met our next RA warrior six years ago when I had to teach her how to start a commercial dishwasher. Ginger and I started the freak parade soon after, an informal rag tag mix of people with auto immune disease and other challenges. The woman holds a Bachelors in Music Education and is a district music teacher in addition to private cello teacher. Both a daughter of a woman with RA and RA patient herself, Ginger is one of very few people I am proud to call best friend.



Favorite thing to do:

I really like to sleep. But other than that, I enjoy hanging out with my friends/fellow teachers. We have a great time together.

Favorite pick up line:

Yeah man is NOT a pick up line that works. I just want that to be clear.

How would you classify your disability?

Physical/medical I guess. JRA affects life in different ways on different days. For example, the fact that my immune system is supressed makes my job difficult because I am exposed to so many germs and because my job with kids is so hands-on (if I didn't go move their fingers, they would sound even more like dying cats than they already do). So in that respect I guess it's medical. I have been on so many antibiotics in the last year that I've grown to hate them. Also, my kids think I'm a germaphobe because I have a rule in my classroom that "if it goes in your mouth, it goes in the trash" and I make kids wash their hands every time they cough or sneeze. Also, I constantly smell like hand sanitizer, never touch my face, and wash my hands after every single class (at least).

In the physical respect...if the arthritis happens to be flaring (which could be any time my body feels like it, any time the weather gets cold, etc.) then it's hard for me to perform normal everyday tasks like getting dressed, driving, cooking, writing, playing instruments (this is a big one in my job). Since my job entails traveling to up to four different schools a day and I don't have a classroom, it's much more of a physically demanding job than it is for most teachers. I have to be outside in the cold; I have to set up and tear down rooms by moving furniture and setting up chairs and stands; I have to carry my materials with me to every class, either from my office or from my car; I spend a fair amount of time repairing instruments and transporting them (basses are heavy, folks); and I play up to five different instruments in a day. So, that makes work hard. I also live upstairs above my landlord's garage, so in the event that I'm having a really bad flare I have Papa John's, Jimmy John's, and the Chinese place on speed dial (also, did you know that Dillon's will deliver groceries and Walgreens will deliver prescriptions? And your gay boyfriend will often deliver dinner as well? Handy things to know about). I also have a toilet seat extender handy for days like that and keep miultiple heating pads in my house and office. If I feel that I absolutely have to go to school during a flare I conduct/teach from a stool rather than stand.

Plenty of days, though, I feel just fine and am more than capable of say, reupholstering furniture, putting up Christmas decorations, going camping, or just generally kicking ass.



Does your school/boss/job administration help you to achieve your goals at work/school?

Yes-in education, they actually force planning and goals down your throat. However, despite many requests to do something about my lack of classroom (which has a more far-reaching impact than just my own physical health-namely, the educational well-being of my students) I still don't have one. With budget cuts, I'll be lucky to have a job next year so for now I'm willing to put up with this.



Is your disability on file at your job/school? If so, how did you break the news? If not, do you plan to do so?

Not officially. But I teach in a relatively small community that is very tight-knit, and everyone knows everything about everyone else. My colleagues all know about my arthritis and are actually very sensitive and helpful, and my administration knows because I've had to call in arthritic a few times. I don't know that I ever officially broke the news; I interviewed with a brace on my left wrist and have always been pretty open about it.

Would you classify yourself as in the closet about your disability?

No. I joke about it a lot, even with my kids. When my elementary kids whine about standing for half an hour it's easy for me to get them to stop by saying "hey, my body is eating my knees as we speak and I'm still standing. You'll live." Also, when I play or lead them in stretching things pop a lot and it sometimes freaks them out-I have to say something like, "sorry, my body is make of rice krispies, it snaps crackles and pops." It's also a good teaching moment for the kids-people with physical disabilities/diseases can do really cool things. And I am the coolest.

What are your professional/study plans for the future?

I'd eventually like to go back for my master's. I don't know how long I'll stay in this job before deciding to teach somewhere else where I don't have to travel between so many schools and do so much physical labor, but I've put so much in and built the program so much that I think another two years at least in my current job are warranted.

If you were to give advice to a young person with a disability, what would you say

Do what you love, even if people tell you it's a bad idea. Life is too short not to do what you love.



Ginger's "Five things you want to do before you die".

1. Attend the entire Burning Man Festival.
2. Climb Tikaboo Peak in Nevada and watch the Area 51 runway lights come on.
3. Get married and have kids.
4. Run for and serve in at least one political office.
5. Travel all of Route 66.


I hope she destroys all the evidence before she runs for office

We are your friends,your neighbors, your ...toy reviewers

Introduction: In an effort to show the human face of disability in the workforce, here is the first edition. I am extremely pumped to share the courage and beauty of my friends, coworkers, and comrades. I hope you enjoy their essence as much I do.


Meet Essin'Em

I met Essin' Em at hippie school in 5th grade. A pioneer since grade school, she has never backed down for a challenge. A 16 year old graduate of high school, she now holds a BA in sociology and German as well as a M.Ed in Human Sexuality Education. Essin ' Em is now making important inroads into the very taboo area of disability and sexuality as writer, publicist and sex educator.




Favorite thing to do: Cuddling with my kitties (and partner) in bed with a good book and cuppa tea.

Favorite pick up line: So, um...I have some sex toys I need to review. Want to help me try them out?

How would you classify your disability? (visual, emotional, medical, physical etc): Frustrating. Snarkiness aside, physical.

Are you doing what you planned to do in school? Yes and no. I don't make 100% of my living from sexuality education, but am getting to do it.

7. Does your school/boss/job administration help you to achieve your goals at work/school? If not, please explain how they could help you better. I don't have a boss right now, as I do freelance and consultant work. However, my school definitely did not help - I was a bit of the black sheep, as instead of sex therapy or working at Planned Parenthood, I wanted work with "alternative" communities with sexuality; the dis/ability community, the queer community, the kink community, the poly-community, etc.

Are you doing something you like? If not, what would be your ideal job/study? Yes, although not full time. My ideal job would be teaching in regards to sexuality all the time, whether through a university, or being able to consult full time.


Would you classify yourself as in the closet about your disability? Why or why are you not? Definitely not in the closet. I feel that by showing that people with different ability levels are just as competent as traditionally able bodied people is the only way to change opinions. Also, I use a handicapped placard often, and walk with a cane some of the time, which automatically outs me.

Do you think disability discrimination exists and if so in what capacity/way? It definitely does. From having to argue with corporate in order to have a chair at a front desk position to the amount of difficulty in getting a handicap placard or getting approved to get disability assistance, there is definitely still discrimination against those with different abilities.

If there were one thing you could change in your native country regarding disability and employment what would it be: Require that all public transportation be publicly accessible, all sidewalks have ramp access, and have handicap placards transfer state to state.

Have you worked/studied/lived abroad? If so, how does this compare to your home country: Yes. Germany was much more accessible, both physically and as far as government benefits/access than the US is.


List five things you want to do before you die:
Live abroad again (this time, with my partner)
Get my doctorate
Own a house
Become a household name synonymous with Sexuality Education
Establish my own company


I want to end with Essin'Em's advice to young people.
Don't be afraid to claim your dis/ability as part of your identity. There is no shame in being who you are. On the same note, don't become your dis/ability - it's only PART of who you are.

Ive got a Big Butt and I Cannot Lie

Since my hip replacement surgery , my left derierre has grown to what seems to me to be Star Jones proportions. Indeed, my left side is a full two sizes bigger than my right side. While some friends and admirers find my new girth pleasing,I have not been able to find a pair of jeans that fit/don`t hurt since April.

Does anyone have any suggestions or experience in fitting a lop-sided touchus?

Post Script- Keep your eyes open for the next addition of working with a disability.I

Fight Club Peru Style

In Leon, Mexico there have long been rumores that wealthy ladies go to this particular plastic surgeon to get their booty fat taken out and made into soap ala Fight Club.

Apparently Peru has got the same idea. At least the states and Mexico find the fat after its sucked out.


The Link is Below


http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/34057001/ns/world_news-americas/

Buscando Jobs En Mexico- Part Two

Every Friday after work, I reward myself to a beer, as per family tradition. My favorite, Bohemia, is always two for one at Oxxo, or as it is now known, 'La oferta de La Coja' (in English, La Coja Friday Special). When I sit down in the middle of Plaza de la Paz with my Bohemias on my Friday afternoons, I ponder suggesting this practice to St. Peter someday.

Yesterday however, turn out a bit differently. As I was looking for a place to sit, I came upon a man who is blind sitting in my usual spot. Navigating any place, no less the alleys, buses and dead ends of Guanajuato, is no easy task. When I see a person with little to no sight making his or her way around the city often leaves me staring in amazement. With a little liquid confidence in me, I offered him my other Bohemia. The man took my hands into his and thought for a moment. "Young lady you have arthritis dont you...." He might be a witch or perhaps a conman, but either way I had to find out who this man was.

Miguel Ramirez sits outside Plaza de la Paz everyday from 1 to 6 pm. A double sided, dual language laminated sign adorns his neck with the following message. "I am blind and cannot work. I am glad to give you any type of candy I have for your help. Thank you and God Bless You, Miguel". Mr Miguel is very upfront about his disability. He is proud, and rightfully so, of his abilities to get what he needs on his own.

He began working in the mines of Guanajuato and those on the border from an early age. He acquired his disability eleven years ago when a rock fell on right side of his head. Upon asking for his government disability pension, he was offered pain pills and nothing more. Lacking support from the government, he went looking for work--any kind of work, but found nothing. According to Mr. Miguel, the current governmental culture in Guanajuato is such that if one has a disability, the possibility of employment is nil.

Mr Miguel however is quick to point out that although the current government does not dedicate many resources to people with disabilities, empowerment in Guanajuato does indeed exist. His childhood friend, the former governor Carlos Romero Hicks, found him a fairly accessible house. Several local surgeons have helped to form a local blind coalition, Nueva Luz. Nueva Luz has no monetary funds but it rich in human resources. At the local Casa de la Cultura, experienced blind people teach other blind citizens how to navigate life. The coalition looks to empower its people with classes on cooking, taking the buses, braille, and ones civil rights.



What endears me most to Mr. Miguel is his ability to relate. He gave me directions to new more accessible routes to my house and to shopping. He asked me how I climb the bus, manage to stay on and eventually step off. Perhaps the comment that will stay with me forever though is " Juntos si podemos senorita. " (If we stick together, we can do it young lady). Mr. Miguel, I couldn't have said it better.


Post Script- Bohemia really is the best beer in Mexico.

Needs to get a Jobby Job- A Meditation on the job search with a Disability Part 1

As I search for a job, I am reminded daily of one of my most irritating/endearing memories of my Gramps. Every time I would try to sleep in, he would burst in singing the Silhouettes' hit 'Get a Job' with my cousin singing back up.

Let's be honest. Searching for a job just plain sucks. To me, its like going on an arranged marriage interview. Everything from your intelligence to your appearance to your fidelity will be at least subconsciously excruciatingly critiqued. In the last eighteen months, 65% of my friends who are not students have been laid off and/or underemployed at some point. While many in my generation are daydreaming about that fancy engagement ring to a country with benefits, it seems most of us will be old maids for the time being.

However tough it is for the general population of my age group to find a decent job, people with chronic diseases/disabilities face more of a job battle than a search. The rate of employment for people with disabilities as of 2000 is a shameful 55.8%. While I cannot find reliable statistics for the same population in Mexico, it is even more dismal.

The next series of post will focus on the employment market, job search, unique opportunities and differences between the US and Mexico.

'Preaching and a cryin, tell me that I'm lyin bout a job that I could never find...Get a Job'


Post Script- Please pardon the lack of posting in the last couple of weeks. Life Happens occasionally.

Finding Solutions

The slick haired men with Mexico City plates looking for una party have left. The hippies have moved on to better and higher experiences. The man in the giant condom suit has pulled up stakes to continue spreading his gospel elsewhere. Ladies and Gentleman, the 37th Festival Internacional Cervantino has come to an end.

What is a Cervantino? El Cervantino is a textile of all the beautiful Mexican arts combined with the traditions of the foreign guests of honor. Although its origins have been attributed to the writer Miguel de Cervantes, it is very Guanajuatense in nature. Started in the cradle of Universidad de Guanajuato thought, the festival is the only time of year the city stops gossiping and instead converts its energy into a large three week fiesta. When the over 2,300 artists of all kinds converge with the 500,000 tourists, Guanajuato explodes with color. Music, opera, danza, theatre, and academic activities flood the city along with its pilgrims that camp in its parks.

However, for me the festivities are more limited. Although it has been said I am an enthusiast of the occasional drink with friends, my venues were more contained this year. As I try to get off buses that will not stop for the slow footed or try to climb the impressive amount of stairs at the University, I think about these difficulties. I think about how I will get my friends with physical disabilities through restaurant doors, my house, a club. The entire month of October, I have looked for solutions. Indeed accessible transportation, hotels, restaurants and parking do exist. Unfortunately, they are not many.

I do not mean to say that this city is oppressive or unwilling to accept the disabled into the fold. Guanajuato is a city is full of life and learning. However open it may be to change, the change will not come until people with disabilities start to demand it. That is why I invite all of you to visit. Let's make ourselves visible.



For more video/pictures refer to "Adventures of La Coja" Facebook page.

For more information and images, visit http://festivalcervantino.gob.mx/fic09/bienvenidos

10 Ways to Know If You Have Spent Too Much Time In Mexico

You Know You Are a Long Term Mexican Resident When:



1. Your cousin/friend is named Chuy and you dont think 'as in Bacca, right?'

2. You follow the smartest neighborhood dog to cross the street

3. You genuflect not only at Mass, but outside churches and in theaters on instinct

4. You think the local things tourists find as 'quirky and quiant' slightly annoying

5. You are no longer scared to ride in the car with Mateo Cunao

6. It does not bother you that a policeman is holding a rifle and is texting at the same time

7. You know the words to horrible Banda songs...and even worse, it has some relevance to your life.

8. You see a "Day of Dead" altar with Coke and think 'they could be mine'.

9. You find nothing out of the normal with taking the kids to the graveyard for lunch

10. You stop noticing when someone parks a donkey in your parking space

Faces of Pre Existing Conditions

After a series of minor crises south of the border (including a small incident at the Oxxo, another round of insurance battles and La Osa's dog eating 10 of my diuretics) I am bit tired today.

However I suggest you visit a fabulous new blog. Not just because my mug is up there but because we are the faces of the consequences of political action or lack thereof.

http://facesofpreexistingconditions.blogspot.com

Waving from Mexico,
La Coja

Swine Flu--Is It Time to Pull a Suzie?

Mexico has declared a "National Alert". Israel has called it the 'Mexican Flu'. Indeed when my Mom starts investing in Sam's Club amounts of masks, Lysol, and sanitary gel, I begin to think there might be something up.

From what I have observed in the last month, the Mexican government has done an excellent job of containing what could have been a spectacular death toll. When epidemiology reports in Mexico City showed an exponential multiplication of the virus in April, the government made a courageous decision to shut down the schools and government for two weeks. The government has also launched a major campaign involving adorable fliers, sanitary gel in all public places, and supposed fever detectors in the airports. However, despite all the effort, the numbers of suspected cases have more than doubled since August.

Given I am far from a public health official but this is what I have observed. When I became sick with the swine flu, I had excellent, if overbearing, care. My American rheumatologist immediately pulled me off my drugs and I was able to afford the Tamiflu prescribed by Doctor Kansas City. However, it must be an uphill battle for lower class immuno suppressed people for several reasons

1. The city and regional buses are hotels for germs. We are packed in there so tightly you can feel the next person cough. Only students, my family and the poor ride them.

2. Upper class people have sewers and/or maids, the rest have trash cans .

3. Medicine, especially non generic, can be most or all of your paycheck.

4. Many lower income people work outdoors and live in drafty houses.


It may be a "national emergency" for Obama but for the Mexican poor and immuno suppressed, its just another day.



For more information, take a look at Mexico's Secretaria de Salud Report
http://portal.salud.gob.mx/contenidos/noticias/influenza/estadisticas.html

What You Gonna do When They Come for You?

The Cervantino has come to town. While it is a fabulous event for tourists, the "situation" here has become worse for the rest of us. Although there is very little violence in the capital here, the government has nonetheless pulled out all the uniforms/disguises out of storage. All the streets to the capital are cut off with police check points, yet the backroads, oddly enough, are not.



http://www.festivalcervantino.gob.mx/

Tree of Hope, Remain Strong

As an American business woman with a disability living in a Mexico, I am strange fruit. As I go about my day, writing, translating and creating, not only am I challenged but I am in love with what I do. However this does not mean that this joy is seen as normal or even conceivable.

People from both sides of the border have seen my gait and questioned my ’common sense’. Some people in my family wonder if at the end of the day, I will be rendered dependent in some way. Even my Mexican cousins and friends brag about me as if my situation was one of a kind.

I am becoming somewhat of an urban legend in my little town in the Bajio of Mexico and it is simply just that---an urban legend. At least one strong, creative, woman with a disability came before.




Frida Kahlo was born in 1907 in a suburb of Mexico City. According to several sources, Kahlo had two disabilities. At age six, her ability to walk became difficult when she contracted polio. Then in 1925, she was in a Mexico City trolley accident that broke her spinal column, collarbone, ribs, pelvis, right leg and foot. Although she would eventually regain her ability to walk, she would go through more than thirty five operations and spend months bedridden.

Kahlo took disability and made it into an art. Her art focused mainly on self portraits because, as she pithily commented “it is the subject I know best”. Exploring self-image is a tough task for anyone especially in an ableist society, yet Kahlo navigated it with honesty and color.

In almost all of her paintings, she wears bright and richly made skirts. It has been suggested that she wore these skirts to cover her scars and develop a sense of self. It also seems she become more comfortable with an identity as a woman with a disability as time progressed. Self Portrait with Loose Hair lets the world see her physical fragility while also managing to express her strength. Self Portrait with Dr. Farrill even illustrates Kahlo painting in a wheelchair.

Several of her paintings portrayed her disability in all its pain, challenge and glory. The painting Retablo depicts her trolley car accident and the fear that accompanied it in an almost religious quality. Her self portrait, Broken Column expresses her excruciating physical pain with an Ionic column through her back and nails driven through her head. Perhaps her most striking painting is Tree of Hope, Remain Strong. In this self portrait, Kahlo sketches two reflections of herself. The Frida on the left is a Frida recently rolled out of the operating room. She is bedridden, maimed and cut in half in more than a literal way. The Frida on the right however, is a confident woman triumphantly holding the surgical corset in her hand. Tree of Hope, Remain Strong hangs on my desk as it reminds me daily that I have several parts to my disabled self. Through painting her self image Kahlo gave, if not a name, a place in historical memory for disability.