“Life isn’t a rehearsal” is one of my father’s favourite sayings — that and “better than a poke in the eye with a burnt stick.” (No, I don’t know what it means.) At every significant point in my life, I have received a phone call, voicemail, unsigned note, or email: “life isn’t a rehearsal.”
In the past, I have taken my dad’s words to mean that he more or less supports me in what I am about to do, even if he doesn’t agree with it. Now, though, they have a somewhat different meaning. My blogging moniker rather literally describes what I do. I am a professional dancer who uses a wheelchair (to dance in and for most of my daily mobility). I spend large chunks of my life in rehearsal or in training/dance class — somewhere between 16 and 30 hours a week. And I have finally come to see that even the most treasured of performances are not finished pieces of work; they are important rehearsals for the next performance. I am learning to live permanently in a state of process and enjoy it.
So, HI! I am Wheelchair Dancer; I am really excited to be here over the next couple of weeks. I usually write at my own blog; you can also find me on twitter (public stream @wheelchairdancr or webpage).
I don’t often give descriptions of myself, because I worry about the practice of rapid invocation. I am concerned that such short hands facilitate an unknowing assumption of similarity or alienness. “Black” seems like such a simple word, but it is such a complicated reality. “Disabled?” Another complicated reality. That said, I see that it’s kind of a Feministe practice and that it’s possibly useful for understanding situatedness. So, in the shorthand of labels, I am a middle-aged, multi-racial, bisexual, disabled woman who lives in the SF Bay Area and in NYC. I come from the UK, from a lower-middle/working class background; I arrived in US for a graduate degree, married a wonderful man, and stayed; I became a citizen about two months ago. That’s the short version, but please be careful: you may find that I use those words quite differently from you. As time passes, I think that the stories I have to tell will fill out these identifiers in ways that are meaningful for you and me.
And that brief thought brings me to comments. I subscribe to Feministe in a reader and don’t usually go to look at the comments on a post unless I am particularly provoked. In the course of my readership, I’ve frequently been shocked by the ways comment threads can go. I am going to use the feministe policy as my baseline and see how things develop. Some warnings, though. While I love challenge and critique, personalized attacks on other commenters will not be allowed through. Much of my moderation will be happening via cell phone (eek!), so bear with me. I will do my best to keep up, but please understand that if I am in rehearsal, that is a no cell phone, no internet situation.
If you need a single word for what I write about, intersectionality might be of some use (the link is to a post I wrote about intersectionality and some forms of internet feminism). I write about the theoretical issues arising from my daily experience or from something I’ve read. So, expect some stuff on disability, race, class, gender, sexuality, and dance.
I am looking forward to the next couple of weeks and to hearing back from a large community of readers. Should be pretty exciting.