"From disability advocate with a PhD in disability studies and creative nonfiction, and creator of the Instagram account @ sitting pretty, an essay collection based on a lifetime of experiences in a paralyzed body, tackling themes of identity, accessibility, bodies, and representation"-- - (Baker & Taylor)

The disability advocate and creator of the Instagram account @sitting_pretty offers an honest look at disability and its effects on identity, love, money and self-worth by processing a lifetime of memories to paint a beautiful portrait of a body that looks and moves differently. 30,000 first printing. - (Baker & Taylor)

A memoir-in-essays from disability advocate and creator of the Instagram account @sitting_pretty Rebekah Taussig, processing a lifetime of memories to paint a beautiful, nuanced portrait of a body that looks and moves differently than most.

Growing up as a paralyzed girl during the 90s and early 2000s, Rebekah Taussig only saw disability depicted as something monstrous (The Hunchback of Notre Dame), inspirational (Helen Keller), or angelic (Forrest Gump). None of this felt right; and as she got older, she longed for more stories that allowed disability to be complex and ordinary, uncomfortable and fine, painful and fulfilling.

Writing about the rhythms and textures of what it means to live in a body that doesn't fit, Rebekah reflects on everything from the complications of kindness and charity, living both independently and dependently, experiencing intimacy, and how the pervasiveness of ableism in our everyday media directly translates to everyday life.

Disability affects all of us, directly or indirectly, at one point or another. By exploring this truth in poignant and lyrical essays, Taussig illustrates the need for more stories and more voices to understand the diversity of humanity. Sitting Pretty challenges us as a society to be patient and vigilant, practical and imaginative, kind and relentless, as we set to work to write an entirely different story.

A memoir-in-essays from disability advocate and creator of the Instagram account @sitting_pretty Rebekah Taussig, processing a lifetime of memories to paint a beautiful, nuanced portrait of a body that looks and moves differently than most.

Growing up as a paralyzed girl during the 90s and early 2000s, Rebekah Taussig only saw disability depicted as something monstrous (The Hunchback of Notre Dame), inspirational (Helen Keller), or angelic (Forrest Gump). None of this felt right; and as she got older, she longed for more stories that allowed disability to be complex and ordinary, uncomfortable and fine, painful and fulfilling.

Writing about the rhythms and textures of what it means to live in a body that doesn’t fit, Rebekah reflects on everything from the complications of kindness and charity, living both independently and dependently, experiencing intimacy, and how the pervasiveness of ableism in our everyday media directly translates to everyday life.

Disability affects all of us, directly or indirectly, at one point or another. By exploring this truth in poignant and lyrical essays, Taussig illustrates the need for more stories and more voices to understand the diversity of humanity. Sitting Pretty challenges us as a society to be patient and vigilant, practical and imaginative, kind and relentless, as we set to work to write an entirely different story.

Booklist Reviews

Treatment for childhood cancer led to paralysis at age three, but that didn't stop Taussig. She adapted. Nonetheless, she grew up in a world that didn't see her or welcome her or represent her. It was and is a struggle. The average annual income of a disabled person, she notes, is $25,400, less than a nondisabled person's. She describes how a disabled person navigates things nondisabled people take in stride: dating, marriage, the workplace. But she also places the onus on the nondisabled world, asking us not to look at disability as a limitation: What if a lack of imagination was the actual barrier?" Taussig maintains that it is "our affinity for familiarity that traps us." She is more than her disability. If the disabled are marginalized, she continues, it is because of society, and society "has the power to change that." The epilogue's annotated list of resources includes "very cool people" who also happen to be disabled, books, television shows, and Instagram hashtags. An invaluable, eye-opening look at disability from a firsthand perspective. Copyright 2020 Booklist Reviews.

BookPage Reviews

How do our built spaces limit who is able to use them?

One in four adults, or 61 million people, are disabled in the United States, yet the myth of the able body persists. The fact is, all bodies have different needs and abilities over their lifetimes. As these books show, creating an imaginative and accessible world helps everyone.

In Sitting Pretty: The View From My Ordinary Resilient Disabled Body, Rebekah Taussig shares her experiences of disability in eight provoking and lyrical essays. As a child, Taussig moved her body with joy and confidence. But as she grew older, her environment told her a different story about her body. She noticed how many spaces weren't made for her needs, saw the pitying looks strangers gave her and heard ableist narratives from the media, in which disabled bodies like hers were either weak or objects for other people's inspiration. Gradually, she stopped feeling comfortable in her body. In her book, Taussig discusses everything from how the disabled body is left out of feminist conversations, to uncomfortable experiences with kindness, to love, sex and marriage as a disabled person. This collection is essential reading, and its intimate writing style will help readers see disabled folks as the human beings they have always been.

In "More Than a Defect," Taussig describes teaching her high school students two models of disability: the medical model and the social model. The medical model is the most common way of viewing disability; it views the disabled body as an object to be fixed. In the social model, the environment that surrounds a disabled body is the object that needs to be fixed. When we use the social model, we begin to see how our culture stereotypes disabled bodies and creates inaccessible environments.

What Can a Body Do? How We Meet the Built World by Sara Hendren focuses on these created environments through seven essays that look at specific objects of design. In the chapter titled "Chair," she tells the story of a cardboard chair created by the Adaptive Design Association and how it benefits Niko, a toddler with a rare genetic condition called STXBP1. The chair is sustainable, affordable and adaptable to individual needs.

Through stories like Niko's, Hendren shows that the purpose of accessible design should not be to fix a body, but rather to meet the body where it is. Reshaping and expanding the built world can accommodate many ways of being human. For example, sidewalk curb cuts were created for wheelchair access, but parents with strollers and travelers with rolling suitcases also benefit from their implementation. By applying "what if" questions to practical design, we can build spaces that accommodate every body. What Can a Body Do? is a fascinating look at the ingenuity behind these accessible designs.

Kirkus Reviews

A disability advocate debuts with a collection offering potent rejoinders to ableism. Tracing memories from childhood to the present, Taussig, who has a doctorate in disability studies, explores her life story and relationship with her body as well as attendant concerns of confidence, belief, and hope. Even though she grew up "after the passage of the 1990 Americans With Disabilities Act," the author, who was paralyzed at age 3 following a lengthy, deleterious cancer-treatment regimen, faced many difficult situations related to her disability, from confronting lowered expectations at a youth camp to navigating awkward moments with friends and acquaintances. She investigates what accessibility really means and how it relates to housing, employment, and health care—"The older I got," she writes, "the more I cringed at the bills my body created"—and she looks at dating challenges and the difference between finding marriage and finding love, exposing many of the mechanics behind traditional social scripts. Constantly questioning the damaging illogic of nonaccessible public spaces, Taussig confronts the insidious nature of "stigma, isolation, erasure, misunderstanding, skepticism, and ubiquitous inaccessibility." Introducing many key themes of disability studies throughout the narrative, the author pushes for nuanced awareness and understanding of fluid rather than fixed needs, essential for a more effective intersectional approach to social solutions. Taussig goes beyond empty inspirational jargon, forcing readers to consider the value of the real-world improvements that can emerge from centering underrepresented voices. An engaging, up-close view of the need for structural change regarding disabilities in this country, the text is a solid combination of theory and personal experience. "We should bring disabled perspectives to the center," she writes, "because such perspectives create a world that is more imaginative, more flexible, more sustainable, more dynamic and vibrant for everyone who lives in a body." A fierce and fabulous revision to entrenched ableist scripts. Copyright Kirkus 2020 Kirkus/BPI Communications. All rights reserved.

Library Journal Reviews

Disability is often seen by the able-bodied population as something to be fixed, something to be pitied. With Taussig's memoir, readers are given a different perspective—one of someone seeking to bring awareness and education to the world around her. Taussig, with both a PhD in disability studies and the lived experience of having a disability herself, is able to meet readers where they are, whether they are disabled themselves or are curious to learn. However, Taussig states up front that she is not representative of all disabled people and that this book is not exhaustive. Rather, it is a personal account, and one that is organized as a book of essays, each a vignette of an experience where disability informed Taussig's experiences: her romantic relationship with an able-bodied person, teaching an experimental disability theory class for high schoolers, discussing her life experiences with her family, and more. VERDICT Taussig's narrative style is highly conversational, making it feel like one is chatting with a lifelong friend. Her ability to bring levity to a topic some may find taboo is certain to help spread her message of acceptance and love.—Ahliah Bratzler, Indianapolis P.L.

Publishers Weekly Reviews

Taussig debuts with a pull-no-punches memoir about life in a wheelchair. She insists up front that she doesn't speak for everyone with a disability ("I would be doing us all a great disservice if I led you to believe that the conversation starts and ends with bodies and experiences that look just like mine") and provides a frank look into her life with "a body that doesn't work," one that she's lived in since surviving an aggressive cancer as a 14-month-old. She analyzes sex and disabilities; her marriage to her first husband, which came about only because she was afraid it would be her only chance (she eventually found love with her second husband); unintentional ableism; online dating; and what she sees as the disempowering message from Hollywood that characters with disabilities are "always longing for a ‘whole' body through a fantasy sequence." Taussig's refreshing, matter-of-fact tone makes it clear that she's not asking anyone to feel sorry for her; rather, she's asking for just the opposite—to not be defined by her wheelchair. Her smart and witty observations about living with disabilities will be enlightening and eye-opening for readers. (Aug.)