Home
This month marks one year since I gave up my apartment. An apartment I loved so much but knew it was the right move during the pandemic to give up. I wrote this blog post as an homage to the apartment.
The first short essay I ever read about home that I loved was by Harilyn Rousso, in her book, Don’t Call Me Inspirational. I related to it so much that I had a calligrapher write it out for me to frame in my apartment.
Today’s prompt (13): is from Harilyn Rousso:
What does ‘home’ mean to you? To what extent, if any, has your invisible illness affected your view of ‘home?” Has the pandemic affected your view of ‘home’? If so, how and why?”
Harilyn Rousso is a disability activist, feminist, psychotherapist, writer and painter. Considered one of the “founding mothers” of the U.S. disabled women’s movement, she has worked on issues of women and girls with disabilities for more than twenty-five years. She is the founder of the Networking Project for Disabled Women and Girls of the YWCA/NYC, a unique mentoring program that has been replicated widely, the executive producer of the documentary Positive Images: Portraits of Women with Disabilities, and author of numerous publications on gender and disability, including Double Jeopardy. Addressing Gender Equity in Special Education (2001, SUNY Press) and Strong Proud Sisters: Girls and Young Women with Disabilities (2001, CWPS). Her memoir, Don’t Call Me Inspirational: A Disabled Feminist Talks Back, was published by Temple University Press in 2013.
Turn your phone on airplane mode and remove all distractions. Set a timer and write for 25 minutes. I encourage you to write in a notebook instead of on your computer or phone - don’t edit while you’re writing. When the timer goes off, if you have the time, space and interest to continue, go for it.