Earlier this week, Elissa Altman shared an essay written by E.B. White in 1940 titled Freedom. The essay explores the author’s observations of how fascism was creeping into the American intellect during World War II. Altman noted, and I agree, that White’s essay is “evidence that history repeats itself.” For example, E.B. White notices how, “Men are not merely annihilating themselves at a great rate these days, but they are telling one another enormous lies, grandiose fibs.” We have a long history of telling one another “grandiose fibs,” to serve whatever system(s) of social control is in place at any particular time. Whether religion is used to subjugate sex and gender minorities while upholding “family values” within a narrow definition of “family,” nationalism to oppress immigrants, medical science to oppress disabled people, or capitalism which shackles us all but harms the socially marginalized the most, the majority has always (often unknowingly) fallen in line with repressive societal ideals. It’s the path of least resistance, if you aren’t one of the unlucky ones being oppressed.
E.B. White writes of freedom consisting of two parts: freedom we are all born into as creatures of the earth, and freedom (liberties) we obtain as members of a society. There is hope in this understanding of freedom, as “the free spirit of [human] is persistent in nature; it recurs, and has never successfully been wiped out.” In dark times, it might serve us well to remember communal free spirit has never successfully been wiped out by violence, suppression, or war. It can be difficult to call on this free spirit when it feels like all is lost, when we are surrounded by hate, fear, and death. But we must call on it, mobilizing the free spirit with whatever tools available. And so we write.
I was struck by how E.B. White compared the effect of writing to inoculation. After quoting Hitler saying only the spoken word moves people to great change whereas the written word can only write of change theoretically, E.B. White writes, “I am inordinately proud these days of the quill, for it has shown itself, historically, to be the hypodermic which inoculates men and keeps the germ of freedom always in circulation, so that there are individuals in every time in every land who are the carriers, the Typhoid Marys, capable of infecting others by mere contact and example.” I can’t quite get past the negative connotations of Typhoid Mary, but I do like the idea of power in writing as a way to keep ideas of freedom in circulation.
Before reading these words, I felt like my writing was a long-awaited act of rebellion, a 50-year old teenager finally acting out against my parents and those societal ideals that tried to keep me in check. This rebellion, as I thought of it, was spurred on by others who had spilled their secrets to the world, rebelling against forces that tried to stifle their free spirit. Those forces try to maintain control, sometimes through decorum – an exterior display of niceties keeping unpleasant things (things out of control) hidden, maintaining the status quo, however oppressive or generally fucked up. However, rebellion has a violent, reactionary tone to it, one not fully suited to my disposition. It is also perhaps more apt to describe uprisings, the breaking of rules with an intent to retaliate, to harm in some way those who have suppressed us. This doesn’t sit well with my underlying pacifist disposition. So instead, following E.B. White, I’d like to think I carry the “germ of freedom,” passed on to me by brave writer-carriers, many of them writing for their lives and the lives of others who experience oppression and discrimination within society.
Going along with White’s metaphor, I’ve been seeking out people who might infect me, by reading voraciously and allowing subversive ideas to seep into me, often in discussion with others hoping to catch freedom as well. These freedom germs are the good kind, the kind we need to live healthy, happy lives. And by “we,” I mean every single one of us. However, so many are frightened of the freedom germs, evading the “jab” at all costs. But the costs are too high, borne out in war, conflict over land, a desire to control others, abuse of bodies and minds. Yet such violence and oppression would have no room to spread were the majority of the population inoculated with ideas of freedom for all. Perhaps if we reach at least 75% coverage we can achieve herd immunity, with enough people immunized to protect the entire population.
I know, I know, we writers have been working hard, questioning and challenging dominant discourses, calling out bad behaviour and unjust policies, yet still, an authoritarian freedom-denier was elected president of the United States. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how the majority of white women voters could vote against their own liberties. I suppose fear and hatred of the Other overrides any fear of losing their own independence. What a fucking shame. Money wields too much power in our capitalist society. We need money to live and arrogant promises of economic freedom trumped goodness and liberty for all…this time. We’ve been here before, freedom for groups of people pushed aside in the self-interest of the few. We are tired, angry, frustrated, at wit’s end, but we mustn’t put down the quill.
I feel like I’ve only just picked it up! My personal vaccination record is growing. After three series of inoculations over about 10 years, I can feel the germs of freedom circulating in and around me. I’ve reached a strong level of immunity against tyranny, but still, none of us are safe without others being immunized as well. Just as I’ve been “infected” by reading the works of others, I hope to do my part in spreading these germs of freedom. Come close, inhale, exhale, let the words of freedom enter you, move through you, strengthen you, then spread it all around!
We all come to acquire germs of freedom from different sources, depending on our own interests and experiences and who we’ve come into contact with over time. I don’t believe you need any formal education to be a carrier of freedom. On the contrary, education can be used to uphold the status quo, to keep us in line – we must choose our sources wisely! I can describe three series of inoculations that strengthened my body and mind against inequitable and oppressive ideologies:
The Social Justice Education PhD Series: Five years of immunizations with the primary active component being critical theories read and discussed with others. Regular booster shots needed.
The Exposing DNA Secrets Series: Ongoing, with the active component being memoirs about identity and lives altered after secrets were exposed through DNA results.
The Exposing Childhood Abuse Series: Ongoing, with the active component being memoirs about childhood sexual abuse and its repercussions.
The Social Justice Education PhD Series
I’m not going to lie. The first dose had significant side effects – it hurt, a lot. My system was shocked by ideas that had me questioning my own past professional practices, rooted in the sciences (e.g., anatomy, physiology, speech science, neuroscience). I realized I had worked largely within medical understandings of humanity, speech, language, and hearing. As a speech-language pathologist (SLP), I had been taught I held knowledge expertise about speech and language that others didn’t, that I could tell a parent more about their child’s speech and language than they themselves knew, that I could piece together someone’s communication strengths and challenges through specialized assessment, that I could direct the food someone ate (swallowing disorders is an area of practice). Client and family interviews were always part of it, but they were viewed as one piece of the puzzle that helped define how to proceed. Even though assessments were “client-centred,” the clinician (me) conducted the assessment and wrote the report from my own perspective. The client was basically a human puzzle to solve.
In my first disability studies (DS) courses, I learned critical understandings of rehabilitation, a different way to think about the purpose of rehab on a societal level. Most people go into rehab fields, or any health discipline, because of a desire to help people. For the first time, I became aware that some aspects of “helping” were experienced by those being helped as oppression. I learned the medical field is tied up with capitalism through the idea of technological progress and returning people to a healthy state so they can become productive citizens. Historically, those deemed incapable of contributing to the economic system, or deemed a threat to it, were experimented on, involuntarily sterilized, hidden away, forced to conform as best they can, and/or used for mundane and often unpaid involuntary labour. I learned about disability movements and disability justice and the different ways disabled people resist and challenge ableism, through protests, community organizing, art, and writing. For as E.B. White writes, “To be free, in a social sense, is to feel at home in a democratic framework.” I learned many people with disabilities and other socially marginalized identities did not feel at home.
I discovered that SLP and audiology professions are resistant to the resistances. One example of community resistance to SLPs’ role in normalizing speech is the Did I Stutter Project, not typically part of SLP curricula. Ontario’s regulatory college’s (CASLPO) equity, diversity and inclusion initiatives focus on what individual practitioners can do to become culturally aware, respect individuals, prevent bias and racism – all worthwhile initiatives. However, they stop short when it comes to challenging key ableist ideologies inherent in the profession itself, except perhaps with a recent change to include gender-inclusive language. When vaccinations are doing their job well, there is often discomfort and I hope CASLPO and other gatekeepers of the professions will one day dwell in that discomfort to allow freedom to spread.
My PhD supervisor, Tanya Titchkosky and her partner, fellow DS sociologist Rod Michalko, taught me disability studies, how to do critical interpretive analysis, how to consider life from different angles. Through their examples, I learned how to slow down and think about meanings under the meanings of words on the page and what they tell us about societal phenomena, like disability. They and others introduced me to the works of Michel Foucault, Frantz Fanon, critical education theorists Paulo Freire and bell hooks, philosophers like Jacques Derrida and Paul Ricoeur, disability studies scholars like Rosemary Garland-Thompson, Lennard Davis, David Mitchell and Sharon Snyder and so many more. I learned the history of the disability pride movement and the scholarly work and activism of people like Michael Oliver, Tom Shakespeare, Dan Goodley in the U.K., and Judy Heumann and Simi Linton in the U.S.
I discovered others working in the intersection of rehabilitation and disability studies in Canada and formed alliances with scholars like Karen Yoshida, Madeleine Burghardt, Ann Fudge Schormans, Barbara Gibson, Susan Mahipaul, Tal Jarus, Sally Kimpson, Erika Katz and so many others. We share germs of knowledge between us, we research and write together, and it is sometimes hard, but we cannot spread ideas of freedom in isolation. We know ideas of freedom are being shared when we challenge ourselves to question not just societal institutions, but our own ideas as well.
I’ve since been exposed to other germs of freedom in the health professions education field, but will save that for a later post, along with details about the other two series. In the Exposing DNA Secrets series and the Exposing Childhood Abuse series, I learned from writers who have openly shared their experiences with traumatic events society would rather keep hidden. These two series have been instrumental in allowing me to feel more free in writing about my own experiences, which has changed my life, saved it even. Next time, I will spread their germs of freedom!
If you enjoyed Part 1 of We are Carriers of Freedom, please share it around! Part II will be coming soon!
I’d love to hear your thoughts! Would you say your writing is an act of freedom? How have you become a carrier of freedom?
I love this post and the “inoculation” metaphor. Writing is a powerful way to strengthen a community and those of us who write *are* responsible for what we put out there - we never know who we might save.
Tracey, I absolutely love this! As a parent of two kids who see/have seen SLPs, this gives me a lot to think about. I also love metaphor “germs of freedom” - it works so well!