Cutting muscles and illusions

The struggle of identity clash between being a disabled child and my Jewish identity had its first large hurdle during my surgery.

My surgery felt like such a clear description of the dichotomy of going from a family of disabled friends to a world of people that couldn't understand my existence. I had switched preschools the year before so I was technically in pre-k/kindergarten I was five years old and already felt alone. I walked differently than everyone I wore leg braces and I had pressure resting on my shoulders knowing that I was going to be having surgery and be in the hospital for a while.Before I had my surgery my dad got permission from the school (rather he offered to pay and build a ramp to my classroom trailer so that I could come back to school after my surgery). I remember being so upset at that whole situation, I was five and already upset that my family had to fight for accessibility, that I wasn’t inherently seen and needed to be shown. I also remember it being a fight, the school claiming it was against city rules, and having to go through so many hoops. I remember after my surgery and once I was allowed out of the hospital probably about 6-8 weeks after the surgery, I still had on my cast which was from my toes to my chest and my father pushed me up the ramp to class and I hated it. I remember hearing teachers and staff saying at least she came to school and is using the ramp after all the drama. I felt so awkward and huge I was sitting at a 45-degree ankle in this clunky long gurney-like black wheelchair, Iof course didn't fit behind a desk and didn't really fit in circle reading time or anything, forget the fact I'm wearing a blanket over the top of my cast with a diaper underneath, even though I didn't use it, the feeling was so uncomfortable. None of the students really knew what to say or how to interact with me, I was a huge foreign object and frankly, the teacher didn't know what to say or do either. There was a clear lack of training or understanding on how to behave around someone who isn't like you.Now dont get me wrong the teacher tried to be as nice as possible but getting my wheelchair up and down the ramp was a herculean task for a young woman so I usually ended up staying inside during recess, sometimes one of my classmates would stay but usually it was just me and a book I brought from home. Another aspect to this was I was still healing from surgery and still in a decent amount of pain, and while I kept up a poker face for my classmates and teachers, (honestly, for my dad at home as well) it still hurt a decent amount to move. Writing this now still brings up these deep childhood feelings of being so alone it was crushing, I didn't have the words as a child and just internalized being the only one that others couldn't connect to. I remember feeling already so upset at the idea that religious people didn't know how to handle someone different, with different struggles especially being in a small Chabad community I would always say to myself and sometimes verbalize it to my mom during our many trips to doctors, physical therapy and the like, why dont they accept me, why can't you play with me just in a different way. I knew I felt failed by the educators especially if so much of your platform in Chabad is to accept each individual as they are and the value that the Rebbe describes in each unique Jewish soul why couldn't you see that in me? Why didn't you know how to teach diversity, and accept and love someone different than you? Why didn't you follow what we read in the siddur every morning “love another like yourself”. The classic saying excusing children's behavior is explaining that they are cruel “children are cruel” is the excuse for bullying that is always used. I dont think I was bullied in the classic sense rather I was pushed into feeling othered pretty much every day of my entire childhood education since I left preschool. I mean at least the school didn't claim to champion diversity so it is not as if I could feel let down, but I did anyway because my most basic understanding of what God and the Rebbe were and what the basis for everything was, was loving another like yourself, but as soon as that person was different than capability went out the window. There were of course moments that being different bought me clout with my classmates, one such moment was on Lag Baomer in kindergarten when we went bowling.I was still in my huge cast and wheelchair so to be able to bowl they gave me this contraption of a stand that was at my arm height so that I could push the ball down and it would race down the lane. That day everyone surrounded me, and everyone wanted a turn, especially the boys in my class, they thought it was super cool. I actually have a picture of all of the classmates surrounding me, it was the one time my difference was cool and they all wanted to try it. That excitement and interest didn't stick around though and after a few days of speaking about it in class, I went back to being the girl who couldn't really move around and took up too much space.

The feeling of isolation within the group doesn’t always show up on the film roll. I also learned to plaster a smile on my face and not share those feelings since I didn’t feel like I had anyone who could understand it. How having a siddur party half outdoors on uneven ground, which had me struggling in my leg braces to cross over to celebrate with friends and always be fully part of whatever was going on hard. I had a great time for a lot of the time I remember wearing the crown and handing out Powerade to my friends, but I also remember when I couldn’t keep walking across the area anymore and sitting on a chair in the corner and just not being seen anymore.

These aren’t all the stories during this time, of course, that's for a book sometime (if any Jewish publisher wants to fund a book talking about disability and Judaism hit me up)but ones that are pivotal for me in my struggle between Judaism and being a disabled kid.

It's been interesting writing this and feeling like I shouldnt share this since I feel there is all this pressure to not talk badly about Jewish communities and instigate antisemitism and all the things, which is important but I think it has gone too far when individuals are being silenced from sharing their stories and their struggles on the notion that the outside world will look down upon us. I want you a Jewish person to read this story and see how alone the system and the lack of understanding and awareness made me feel. Then take that and create something different for the next Jewish disabled kid who you will interact with. I also feel bad in some way sharing these struggles as that wasn’t the only feeling I felt in my community growing up but I feel it's valid to share both sides and if pain and isolation is part of what I share first or now doesn’t mean its the only feeling I had growing up in my community as a Jewish disabled kid.