It's NOT the end

Though I understand why you might think so. From Sunday's NYT.

JUST in time for her Brooklyn Academy of Music debut in October, the choreographer Sarah Michelson has acquired a cane. Ms. Michelson is nothing if not cool; the cane, however, is not. It is a scary gray, orthopedic-looking object, which does not at all go with Ms. Michelson’s jet-black hair, strong porcelain face and smattering of tattoos.

“It’s definitely a milestone scenario,” she said, meaning the academy, not the cane, though at this point the two cannot really be separated. The problem is disintegrating cartilage in her left hip, a new injury that may prevent her from performing as planned in her new work, “Dogs,” from Oct. 18 to 21 at the Harvey Theater as part of the Next Wave Festival.

... Big snip: WCD


“This is the last show I’ll do,” she said. “I’m very injured, and I don’t know if I’ll be dancing again.

Oh dear.

I am not sure what to make of this one. Obviously, injury is a great risk for dancers, disabled or not. Obviously, a disabled dancer has a different range of motion from one who is temporarily able-bodied. Obviously, Ms. Michelson has some things to think about. Obviously, what she does and what she thinks is none of my business.

But it does not have to be portrayed so. And the NYT portrayal is what gets me here.

First, if you insist on saying that this cane doesn't match this beautiful dancer, instead of printing a picture of her doing her thing, publish a picture of Ms. Michelson with her cane. Let us see what you are talking about. Let us make our own judgments.

Now onto the more serious stuff: I am repelled by this representation of disability. The fear here disgusts me. The horror and utter abjection implied by the narrative of impending disability are, frankly, rude, offensive, and abhorrent in themselves.

Some facts: Conventionally prettier canes come relatively cheaply, when compared with wheelchairs, but if you want, you can spend up to a thousand dollars customizing your cane (I have seen sparkly canes for 20 dollars and expensive high tech ones for 900). Plenty of web dealers: google away. I have even seen somewhat nice-looking, cheap canes in such mainstream stores as Walgreens and CVS.

A cane is, therefore, not necessarily a scary, ugly orthopedic device; it is an orthopedic device. And while what it represents may be scary to you, the observer or perhaps to you the user, it is not in itself scary. Indeed, now that I have read this article, I am scared by your explicit fear of disability, but I am not scared by the conjunction of disability and dance.

But even though you can buy better looking canes, that's not the point of this story. The message is that disability is so NOT COOL. It's UGLY. It's SCARY. Disability is CRIPPLING to a dancer ... to anyone. Pretty looking, hip women don't retain their beauty once they get canes, because canes are so not cool. Canes don't "go with" good looks or funky tattoos.

And, even worse, the impending possible disability of a talented dancer and choreographer are here portrayed as a looming tragedy, an end to a meaningful dance life. I know it does not have to be so. The NYT knows it does not have to be so. Nonetheless, that's what this story has to say.

A dismal weekend for NYT disability reporting.