A memoir by a disability rights activist Such a Pretty Girl is Nadina LaSpina's story—from her early years in her native Sicily, where still a baby she contracts polio, a fact that makes her the object of well-meaning pity and the target of messages of hopelessness; to her adolescence and youth in America, spent almost entirely in hospitals, where she is tortured in the quest for a cure and made to feel that her body no longer belongs to her; to her rebellion and her activism in the disability rights movement.LaSpina’s personal growth parallels the movement’s political development—from coming together, organizing, and fighting against exclusion from public and social life, to the forging of a common identity, the blossoming of disability arts and culture, and the embracing of disability pride.While unique, the author's journey is also one with which many disabled people can identify. It is the journey to find one's place in an ableist world—a world not made for disabled people, where disability is only seen in negative terms. La Spina refutes all stereotypical narratives of disability. Through the telling of her life’s story, without editorializing, she shows the harm that the overwhelming focus on pity and on a cure that remains elusive has done to disabled people. Her story exposes the disability prejudice ingrained in our sociopolitical system and denounces the oppressive standards of normalcy in a society that devalues those who are different and denies them basic rights.Written as continuous narrative and in a subtle and intimate voice, Such a Pretty Girl is a memoir as captivating as a novel. It is one of the few disability memoirs to focus on activism, and one of the first by an immigrant.
This book is so outstanding! Nadina LaSpina had polio as a toddler in Sicily. When she was about 13, her family moved to America to get her "cured." Of course there was no cure, but there were treatments that (probably) helped. And she finally could get around in a wheelchair (which wasn't an option in the Sicilian small town), plus in the process of getting treatments, she got to meet a bunch of other teenagers with disabilities. Eventually she became an intense activist for rights for disabled people. And had a good life, with jobs, friends, travel, lovers, and eventually a husband.
I was outraged about the indignities and abuse that she's suffered. Men taking sexual liberties with her body from when she was very young So many times she had to be carried, before she had a wheelchair or because she was going someplace that was not accessible. The ongoing everyday indignities such as people (even strangers) pushing her wheelchair when she doesn't want it. The difficulties of travel. The frequent comments of things like "It's so sad - such a pretty girl. What a shame!"
LaSpina did not let these everyday inconveniences, barriers, and disrespects stopped her from becoming independent, with her own job and apartment. But they did propel her into activism, and she has been very active in the disability rights movement. Her activism features prominently in the book - she's been arrested at demonstrations many times.
The book is very well written. LaSpina doesn't hold anything back. She tells all about her family (she was always close with her parents), friends, lovers, significant events in her life, in such a way that you feel like you are right there with her.
I used to be very close with a friend who had about the same level of disability from polio, and later post-polio, as LaSpina. She told me about various abuses and indignities, but after reading this book, I realize there were probably a lot more. In our extended group of friends, she was considered to be "cool" and more spiritual because of her disability, which was patronizing and annoying.
LaSpina and I are about the same age, aging hippies. We could be friends. I am much less activist than her, but on the same page about the issues. I see on her Facebook page that she broke her hip several months ago, and has been in a very difficult situation. I hope it gets resolved with a good outcome.
Both the personal story of a woman who had polio as a child and the story, from the author's involvement, in the disability rights movement. One of many memoirs that piece together the evolution of civil rights for and societal attitudes towards people with disabilities.
As a memoir this book left me wanting to know more about many people and events that were mentioned in passing and wondering why other details were described with a lot of elaboration. The story is an interesting an important one, but the story telling reflects more what is meaningful to the author and less consideration for what is of interest to the reader. For example, greeting individual people at events gets lovingly described in detail, and 'we made NYC have lifts on buses' gets passing mention. We don't really get to know the important people in the author's life. It leaves me wanting more and wondering if the telling wouldn't have benefitted from a co-author or 'written by' with more experience with this type of writing.
This is a five star plus story of love and determination. It should be required reading for every sociology class in this country. What an eye opener to the trials and tribulations of being “disabled”. The author was instrumental in every act that literally opened doors to an otherwise discriminated against group. Moving and inspirational.
I just grabbed this off the “new” biography shelf at the library, knowing nothing about it. I never read the fly or reviews before I start a book - just go in hoping it’s well written. This was everything a biography should be.
Next on the list is “Hawking”.
Just an aside - I am going to spend the Thanksgiving week in Key West with my daughter. It will be hot and humid and requires miles of walking. I’m in excellent health, even at 80, but the blasting sun and dripping air limit my ability to walk Duval Street all day so....................I am renting a “companion chair” (like a small wheelchair only you need a pusher) and I’m going to be the pushee!! I’m going to see how people react to my being “disabled”, especially if I jump out of the chair and on to a bar stool. Kidding aside, I wonder if I’ll receive the same derision that was heaped on Nadine.
PS - Be sure to Google Melina Fatsiou-Cowan, amazing artwork.
I'm often drawn to books that describe the resiliency of the human spirit. Nadina LaSpina's life story is almost unbelievable and I know that neither my mind or my body could be challenged as hers was. Born in Sicily where she contracts polio and is treated with pity, coming to the US where her Dad hopes she can be cured, enduring countless surgeries, choosing double amputation to get rid of "ugly" legs, rehab, wanting to fit with "normal" people socially and professionally and then becoming a leader in the disability rights movement is all chronicled. LaSpina pushed herself to learn, lead and powerfully advocate. She moves from wanting to fit in, to loving and accepting her body as is. Embedded in the story, her relationship with her parents, her love life, her contacts with well known activists and her own thoughts on acceptance and power are things that keep you thinking and changed my views on demonstrations, sit-ins and individual rights. A powerful read.
When you have a disability, sometimes it's the unspoken things that stand out the most. Exclusion by others. Lack of accessibility. Sideway looks or outright stares. And unfinished sentences like "Such a pretty girl...."
Such a Pretty Girl, by Nadina LaSpina, gives readers a glimpse into the life of a polio survivor -- from her early days in Sicily to her youth and adulthood in America as an activist and educator. Spanning several decades, two continents, and a wide range of issues, the book is a must-read for its deeply personal account of living and thriving with a disability.
From being treated with pity as a young child in Italy to her immigration to the United States and her growth into a role at the forefront of the disability rights movement, LaSpina shares her struggles and triumphs, experiences with inclusion and exclusion, and highs and lows. As you read the book, it becomes clear just how empowering LaSpina's role in feminism and activism has been.
"It's not my fault that I'm disabled, yet I've been made to feel that it is," LaSpina wrote. "My polio never made me unhappy; people made me unhappy. Ever since I was a little girl, people always made me feel I was no good because I was disabled."
Accessibility issues many people never face or even consider, from stairways and curb cuts to public transportation and apartment layouts, as well as judgmental or dismissive behavior from potential employers, lovers and even friends are all laid out. As you read, you will learn about the internal conflict many disabled people face: feeling like one has to choose between embracing the disabled world and, yet, also wanting to be accepted in the non-disabled world, which is often ableist.
LaSpina was -- and still is -- part of the fight for many of the rights that were non-existent before laws like Section 504 of the 1973 Rehabilitation Act and the Americans with Disabilities Act. She takes readers with her on the protest trail -- all the way from demonstrations for parking permits in the 1970s to speaking at the 2018 NYC Women's March rally.
LaSpina also shares the personal journey of harnessing the empowerment that rose out of fighting for her rights. She exposes the layers of issues that arise when parents both embrace a disability and yet want the best life possible for their child, the struggles of growing up with a disability and often being judged solely by that disability, and how much more challenging the dating and professional landscapes are with a disability.
Everyone needs to read this eye-opening book for a personal account of how far the United States has come in disability rights -- and how far we still have to go.
I was enthralled and moved by this powerful memoir written by disability rights activist, Nadina LaSpina, who contracted polio as a toddler in her native Sicily and whose family, in search of a cure, moved with her to America when she was 13 years old. Her story spans cultures and continents, as she takes us along on her quest to form a positive identity in an ableist world that views disabilities only as negative, and those of us who have them as pitiable. Along the way, her adolescence is filled with long hospital stays, where, for the first time, she meets others with disabilities and begins to experience the joy and power of coming together, and of belonging, that is to become a hallmark of her identity, along with the pain of many invasive surgeries, physical therapy and other treatments. It then moves on through the exciting and turbulent sixties and the influences of that rebellious time, to her own personal rebellion against the constant negativity thrust on her by a society that views disability as a fate worse than death, to her increasing activism in the fledgling disability rights movement. The author's personal story parallels the movement's political development throughout. This book reads like a novel and is filled with power, pain passion, love, laughter and joy and will appeal to anyone who has struggled to find an identity in a world that does not value difference.
This is one of the best memoirs I have ever read. The author is a well known disability rights activist. Her voice comes through on every page with such authenticity. The writing is beautiful. I found her story so compelling, I didn't want to put the book down, nor did I want it to end. At the same time, it was an incredible learning experience. A real eye-opener. It made me think of a few times (maybe not so few-blush) when I have unintentionally acted toward a disabled person in an ableist manner. The author shows the harm done by ableism, or "disability prejudice," but she does not accuse or preach, as activists often do. She lets us feel what she is feeling (a rare talent and the mark of a really good writer), and makes us want to act to right the wrongs in our society. I'm almost ready to go and get arrested with her (smile). Truly, I believe this is a book everyone should read.
LaSpina was born in Sicily in 1948 and contracted polio as a young girl. Her parents brought her to NY in her early teens for medical treatment, seeking to have her be able to walk. She spent much of her teenage/young adult life trying to fulfill their expectations of her, struggling with surgeries, braces, and crutches before making a decision to learn to live with her disability. She went on to fight for decades for more rights for people with disabilities (of all sorts).
Not an easy book to read but very thought-provoking, making me re-examine my own experiences with ADA requirements.
A well written, emotional, informative memoir of a woman who is disabled, an activist, pretty funny, intelligent, and oh yeah…pretty. There’s a lot I can relate to and much more that I learned. Excellent book. I recommend this to everyone and especially all the people who ever told me, “your eyes are pretty, too bad they don’t work”.
I read this right after Sitting Pretty, and it was really powerful to read these two books back to back, each by disability activists from different generations. Excellent audio as well.
I wish I could give this book ten stars; make it required reading in every school, but especially every medical school and health professional program; make it the book elected officials swear on for their oath of office. It’s not perfect - disabled people are not a monolith and she doesn’t speak for everyone; she tends to be effusive about people she liked and a bit passive aggressive about those she didn't - but I’ve never come across a more accessible (see what I did there?) book to nondisabled people that is even half as explicit about living a life as a disabled person. Explicit about it all, and from a political activitist as well, so you (and I) can learn about the history of the disability rights movement. Go read it now! It’s so easy to read and so good.
"In a rich country like ours, where there's always plenty of money for war...there should be enough to conduct medical research and cover everyone's health-care needs, without making children beg on TV." (re: telethons such as the MDA telethon) The author was born in Sicily and grew up with socialized medicine in Italy - and when she made disabled friends and visited as an adult, she heard more about how easy to navigate the single payer system was. The Italian culture had its issues with how they treated disabled people, just like anywhere else, but having to constantly fight for and pay hundreds of thousands of dollars out of pocket for it was not one of them. The dream!
I am someone who has long admired Nadina and her work. I've been fortunate to know her (and her beloved late husband) from within the NYC disability community for some time now, and to develop a closer friendship within the last few years. s a fellow disabled woman with immigrant origins who is a few generations younger, I have also thought of her as a mentor.
Still, there was much I did not know about her long personal journey, from disabled Sicilian child to curious, rebellious teen and young adult in the U.S., a daughter, teacher, activist, lover and fighter. I'm so grateful to have these anecdotes in print, weaving such an interesting personal trajectory with the powerful history of feminist and disability activism, from which so many of us directly benefit.
Her passion fills the pages, and reminds us that there's so much left to do, to make the world accessible and welcoming to all.
I've now read several autobiographies of women who grew up with disabilities or chronic illnesses. And one thing really stands out: while they are growing up, these girls want to be invited to parties, sleepovers, proms; they want to have boyfriends (or girlfriends), get a job, get married, maybe have kids. In short, they just want to be "normal". Geez, you'd think they were actually human or something. I'm not sure when people started thinking that having a disability or an illness erases any need to be treated like everyone else, but it's really getting old. LaSpina's story is a bit grittier than some, from dealing with mental health issues to being arrested for protesting. It's not a "I had this disease/disability and yet I triumphed over it" story. It's a very real tale of a woman who was not content to sit in the corner and accept whatever crumbs life threw at her. Definitely worth a read.
I'm going to give this a four because this book contains such needed content.
Content warnings: sexual assault, suicide/suicide ideation, abuse, strong language, adult sexual content
This was not always an easy read. At times, it was very difficult to get through. At parts, it dragged slightly. However, this book is one of the better at explaining the variety of aspects of life that disabled people go through--sexual assault, "better dead than disabled", "such a shame, you're a pretty girl," losing benefits if married, wanting to fit in and hide identity, people's desire to "cure you," etc. It is a very encompassing look at many issues that disabled people face.
I'm glad I read this one, and even happier that my book accepted my recommendation to buy it so that others could read it. It has given me a lot to think of.
A feminist, personal perspective on disability. One of the main themes is the author[s developing ability to claim and enjoy her own beauty and sexuality. Gillian Kendall, coauthor, How I Became a Human Being
Nadina LaSpina is a prominent activist in the disability rights movement and has been arrested countless times for civil disobedience. Ms LaSpina works with Disabled in Action, ADAPT, the Disability Caucus, and others. She lives in New York City.
Very informative, told from a very personal perspective, but also a very well informed perspective. Because it had such a strong personal perspective, I was compelled to keep listening (audio book), but it just went on TOO LONG! I learned to appreciate the disability movement as a civil rights movement; the greatest insight I gained was to see the shift in the author’s thinking from wanting to fit in to “normal” society, to aspiring for “normal” society to appreciate the disabled as a rich part of human diversity.
Such a Pretty Girl: A struggle, Empowerment, and Disability Pride is based on the author Nadina LaSpina's disability life. She became disabled due to polio as a child and was left disabled to walk. Her father wanted to find a cure for her to be able to walk again, so he moved with his wife and his daughter to the US hoping to find a cure for her disability. This hope was never accomplished, but she learned to accept, fight for disabled peoples rights, and to live her life with pride.
This book is amazing. It’s an educational read for anyone who does not have first hand experience either having a disability or loving someone who does. It’s a personal story but yet it goes beyond that. It helps you understand how broad the term disability is whether its physical, mental or emotional. And beyond that, it describes the disability movement in America and the fight for basic human rights by amazing individuals and organizations.
4.5 stars. An immersive, readable memoir. A perfect blend of personal narrative with societal context. It widened my perspective on multiple topics far beyond what I expected: the subjectivity of judging quality of life, assisted suicide, critical elements of universal healthcare, and getting arrested during demonstrations. Some parts could have benefited from stronger editing, but otherwise great and highly recommended.
had just watched the documentary CripCamp (as recommended by my sister Loni). My eyes have been opened to the Disability Rights Movement. A brilliant, moving, inspiring memoir.
So much more than a history, Nadina's sensitive and personal narrative reveals a caring and loving soul and a great thinker who connects the personal with the political so well.