(Note: I am emotional and am working with limited brain capacity)
Second week of classes left me incapacitated for 36 hours. Twenty-seven of those hours were spent immobilized with a crushing migraine and unable to do anything. I had to have a friend come over and feed me because my partner is currently overseas. Overall, my recovery time was less than last week, but the migraine intensity was much worse. This week there was someone sitting close to me that was wearing so much hairspray, it created a toxic cloud of pollution in the classroom. I think hairspray might be the worst of all the mainstream personal-care chemical offenders because is it formulated to stick to everything in its range. I always get crushing migraines following exposures and the inside of my sinus membranes burn for hours, even after rinsing. It is torturous.
From: http://www.encino411.com/index.php/resource/page/are-hairspray-and-nail-polish-toxic |
I
could have asked the person wearing the hairspray to move and sit
somewhere else. I could have said that I have an ‘allergy’ to their
hairspray. People seem to understand the concept of ‘allergy’ more than
they understand toxic encephalopathy. But I did nothing. I didn’t even
put my mask on. I sat with my face in the stream of air blowing out of
the air purifier and covered my face as much as possible and tried to
mentally convince myself that everything was ok.
It is not ok.
So far over the last two weeks, I have spent 5 days bedridden and incapacitated from attending school. This is greatly interfering with my mental capacity and ability to work on my thesis research. I am currently averaging a two day recovery period. This week, when my migraine came on I wept and questioned whether or not it was worth it at all. Is this degree really worth the illness that I am suffering?
It is critical for me to be able to speak up about my needs on a moment to moment basis within the classroom, but it doesn’t feel safe. Both this week and last week, there were opportunities for me (or others) to speak up, but we didn’t – I didn’t. It has been established that my school is meant to be a scent-free building. It has been established that my classroom is specifically required to be scent-free as part of a disability accommodation and yet, people continue to enter into these spaces using and wearing scented/fragranced products that cause injury to me and others.
It is an insidious and silent form of oppression that creates inequities in the classroom and other public spaces. The habits and norms of personal grooming goes largely unquestioned by our beauty-obsessed society. It is a topic that feels personal and uncomfortable, but it is important to address because the use of many scented/fragranced products create restrictive forces and barriers that immobilize and marginalize groups of people. My life has already been greatly diminished by having a disability. Oppressive and invisible forces within institutions further diminish my opportunities to follow my life plan.
I want to be able to show up in the classroom and learn alongside my colleagues without the threat of physical illness. I feel afraid to speak up because I do not want to offend others or make them feel uncomfortable about their personal care product use. I want to be able to count on my allies to speak up on my behalf, but my allies are few and far between and I am learning (from my research) that they, like me, do not know what to say or how to respond to this form of oppression.
I must find my voice in all of this. And I must be able to call out people who are making safe spaces – unsafe, even if it means that I might not be well-liked. I just want to be able to move through this life and be free from threat of physical harm. This illness has deeply ‘othered’ me and marginalized me from my communities, my friends, my colleagues and barred me from indoor public space. By going to school, I am actively putting myself into a situation where I am being physically injured. It is a very vulnerable position to be in when people hold so much power over my health.
I realize that it is my choice to go to school. I just don’t want to go through all of this and have no one even notice that I was there or the extent of the illness that I suffered as a result of having been there. I don’t look sick. I don’t look disabled. And no one sees or knows that I spend days bedridden with crippling pain when I leave the school.
Silence is no longer an option.