pippavacker:

Hi there!

Again, apologies for my lack of posts over the past few months. I’ve been working on a lot of exciting new projects which have been occupying most of my time. I also just moved to Detroit and I am absolutely loving it here.

I did, however, fracture a bone in my knee which has landed me on crutches for a few weeks. I’m wrapping up Crutch Week #2, and while it’s been a pain in the ass crutching around, I’ve been learning quite a bit from the experience.

I was on crutches for about half a year when I was 14 after I suffered a stress fracture in my hip. It was obviously a very frustrating experience, but back then I lived at home and had my dad there to take care of me. Now I am lucky enough to have amazing friends here to help me out with day to day tasks, but it is definitely more difficult to be an adult (baby) on crutches than a teen on crutches.

Okay I’ll get to my point; appearing wounded synergizes with being a woman to create a really unpleasant extra-sexist experience. I do want to acknowledge that my being on crutches in no way compares to the experiences of people who use wheelchairs or other mobility devices for more than a temporary period of time. My thoughts are specific observations within the context of my injury, and I have the privilege of knowing that I will be walking again at some point.

Crutches are an easy and obvious ice breaker, so basically anyone who wants to talk to me now has an easy opener. The very first thing I noticed was that practically every random man in my vicinity in every space I went would at least make a comment about my being on crutches or would ask me what happened. One of my “favorite” remarks was a man who said “aw, poor little lamb” in the most condescending yet flirtatious tone I’ve ever heard, to which I replied “yeah more like poor lil lion” (and then started silently pretending to roar like a lion which got him to leave.) 

Another fun moment happened as I was leaving a restaurant. As I was exiting, a man held the first door open for me, and then pointed at the second door and said “I’ll let you get that one” to my male friend who was a few steps behind me. Since I was already at the door and can open doors with minimal hassle on crutches, I pushed the door open. The man said, “oh no, you aren’t supposed to do that, you’re a woman!” which is hilarious because maybe my being a woman really is more of a handicap than having a fractured knee. 

I was at a bar one night and heading over to close out my tab. I clumsily grabbed the barstool and scooted it out of my way so that I could get close enough to the bartender, but the guy next to me grabbed the stool and shoved it back in place directly in front of my legs. I was obviously startled, and when I looked at him he had a bemused expression on his face. I got up in his face and said, “Can you actually just not fucking do that? I’m really having a hard enough time as it is.” He replied by calling me a bitch.

The constant questioning from strangers is really the most annoying part. I find myself frequently interrupted when I’m obviously preoccupied just because a stranger wants to ask me what happened to my leg. While I appreciate the concern I’m sure some people genuinely have, it feels more like a constant reminder that my body is public and not private, and I can’t help but wonder if men are also treated as though their time and focus are up for grabs.

Anyway, I have at least a few more days left of this experience, maybe even weeks. I have a pretty positive attitude about everything overall, but it has been pretty taxing. Since I’ve spent more time on crutches and become more comfortable moving around, I have noticed that less people are inclined to come up and talk to me about it, and that’s been a welcomed change. I admit that I suffer from “I can do everything myself I don’t need help!” syndrome, but there is a line where being helpful becomes patronizing in a way that makes me very aware of my gender.