I took a walk recently with an acquaintance. It was a lovely mild winter day. We were walking in a quiet area near frozen canal waters, closed to skaters due to the mild weather.
We talked about many subjects, but in the air, was a feeling of deep worry. We were surrounded you see, by hundreds of big rigs, trucks and SUVs occupying our town.
I never expected to be forced to leave work permanently. I never expected a global pandemic. I never expected to have my city occupied carelessly and arrogantly by other Canadians. I never expected, as I told my acquaintance, that I would face a personal, global and now local dystopia.
But here I am.
And here we are.
What led us there? I have my theory, and it starts with vulnerability.
We may not realize it, but we live in a world where vulnerability is not only frowned up and discouraged, but also weaponized in a way that benefits only the evil amongst us.
Why did I hide the extent of my illness from people at work? Because I feared it would be used to toss me aside, deny me opportunities and give me negative performance reviews, leading to my firing. Had I suffered from debilitating mental health issues instead of physical issues, I would have been even more fearful.
My worries came true. When I couldn’t go back to my extremely demanding job or even work fulltime, I was told to just do it, or leave. There was no room in that organization for perceived weakness or accommodations for an energy limiting chronic illness.
Why are so many disabled individuals denied jobs and financial support? Because there is no room in our world for perceived weakness and vulnerability. If, and only if, you overcome whatever ails you to be as productive as abled people, will you be given a chance. This is ableism.
The abnegation of vulnerability is rampant. It is at the root of the emotional repression (outside of anger, of course) at the heart of toxic masculinity, an exclusion of anything socially seen as not utterly alpha male, keeping misogynistic beliefs well fed.
On a materialistic level, small cars almost disappeared from our roads, taken over by expensive SUVs, and bigger pickup trucks to protect ourselves from others. They are here, intimidating and fueling hate.
All this refusal of vulnerability doesn’t make us more willing to help people in need. It makes people who have had to hide their suffering turn around and deny comfort to others. It stifles helping and sharing efforts and reduces them to quick monetary gifts.
Empathy, so rare these days is also often refused by the people who need it the most. How dare you think I can’t handle X?
“You are so strong”, I’ve been told. Funny how saying this often frees us from helping. Vulnerability is seen as a moral failing, leaving us with very few emotional supports.
We have homeless populations because we want to believe that becoming homeless is a moral failing and, as a society, we elect political parties that will not force us to pay more taxes to help the issue. Same with contributions to healthcare.
Which leads us back to the occupation. It started by a claim that public health mandates (requiring vaccination and mask wearing) should be lifted everywhere in the country. Loudly and consistently, they yelled “FREEDOM” and harassed others in a manner that makes you think it’s more about doing whatever they want, whenever they want, than a genuine annoyance with mandates.
In the past 2 years, you might have questioned why it was so hard for a minority of people to wear a mask for the time it took them to shop for groceries. Why these individuals often infantilize protective actions by calling mask wearing putting “a diaper on your face”. Why so many simply refuse to have a tiny needle vaccinate them. They may suffer from needle phobia and never want to admit their vulnerability, or refuse to entertain the idea of sickness and death.
Maybe, just maybe, we created a world where vulnerability is so disregarded, so hated, that many will go to war over recognizing it in any form.
I have been more vulnerable these last 3 weeks that I have ever been in my life. Being disabled and financially at risk, in a global pandemic, in a neighborhood occupied by an angry mob determined to look strong while intimidating and harassing others.
But true strength never comes from denial. It comes from the acceptance of reality and the associated fear, as well as sharing the load to overcome, whenever possible.
Until we accept vulnerability as an inherent part of our lives and strive to offer collective support, anger filled events will become more and more common in my city, and everywhere else.