In I Don't Do Disability and Other Lies I've Told Myself, Adelle Purdham offers a poignant and unflinchingly honest exploration of motherhood, disability, and self-discovery. Through a series of raw and intimate essays, she chronicles her journey parenting a daughter with Down syndrome, revealing the complexities of love, grief, and societal expectations. More than a parenting memoir, this collection unpacks Purdham's own internalized ableism and confronts the societal invisibility of people with disabilities. With empathy and unwavering authenticity, she navigates themes of marriage, friendship, and personal growth, ultimately celebrating the resilience and beauty found within both herself and her family. Prepare to be moved by this powerful and deeply personal account.
Review I Don't Do Disability and Other Lies I've Told Myself
Reading Adelle Purdham's "I Don't Do Disability and Other Lies I've Told Myself" was a deeply moving and surprisingly multifaceted experience. While the book certainly explores the realities of raising a child with Down syndrome, it transcends the typical narrative of disability parenting, becoming something far richer and more resonant. The title itself, a bold declaration of confronting internalized ableism, immediately grabbed my attention and set the stage for a deeply honest and self-reflective journey.
Purdham’s voice is captivating. It's raw, vulnerable, and intensely empathetic, not shying away from the anger, grief, and frustration that inevitably accompany such a significant life experience. She doesn't sugarcoat the challenges, but neither does she dwell solely on the difficulties. Instead, she weaves a tapestry of emotions, reflecting on her own growth and transformation alongside her daughter's development. The essays are beautifully written, each a small gem that explores a different facet of her life: her marriage, her friendships, her spiritual journey, her activism, and, of course, her motherhood.
What struck me most was Purdham's willingness to be completely transparent. She doesn't present a polished, perfect image of motherhood or a neatly packaged solution to the complexities of disability. Instead, she exposes her own flaws, her prejudices, and her ongoing learning process. This honesty is both refreshing and deeply relatable. It allows the reader to connect with her on a human level, recognizing the universal struggles of self-discovery and the messy, unpredictable nature of life.
The book isn’t solely focused on Down syndrome, and this is where some readers might find themselves initially surprised, even disappointed. However, I found this broader scope to be a strength. The experiences of raising a child with a disability are inextricably linked to the author's broader experiences as a woman, a wife, a friend, and a human being. The interconnectedness of these aspects of her life is powerfully portrayed, enriching the overall narrative and avoiding the pitfalls of a solely issue-focused memoir.
While the book does offer moments of profound insight into the challenges faced by families raising children with Down syndrome – financial pressures, societal misconceptions, and navigating the healthcare system – it does so within a larger context of self-discovery and social justice. Purdham's writing encourages a wider conversation about ableism, not just within families, but within society as a whole. It's a book that will stay with you long after you finish reading it, prompting reflection on your own biases and assumptions, and challenging you to consider the beauty and resilience of the human spirit in the face of adversity. It is a testament to the power of vulnerability and the transformative potential of embracing the messy, imperfect reality of life.
Information
- Dimensions: 5.5 x 1 x 8.5 inches
- Language: English
- Print length: 240
- Publication date: 2024
- Publisher: Dundurn Press