LEGS
Dr. Alice Riger, PhD
Legs
Legs are supposed to be
Sexy, smooth, and graceful, a promise of delights to come.
Or hairy, muscular, protective, firmly planted on the ground.
My legs are neither. Rather than being sexy, my ankles are bloated.
So are my knees.
My gait is heavy, slow, effortful, my balance shaky, my joints destroyed.
Doctors say there is nothing to be done.
Autoimmune disorder. Onset age 3.
Referral for pain management.
Nothing I’ve done has caused this.
Nothing I can do will stop it.
Does this entitle you to be cruel to me?
Speechless, I continued walking after your mockery, my humiliation.
“When you laughed at me, you revealed your weaknesses,
Your immaturity, superficiality, and insecurity,”
I thought, for I believe superiority to be a fiction
perpetrated by the insecure.
May you someday use your sturdy legs, creativity, and energy to help others,
Not demean them.
For now, rather than have your flaws,
I prefer to stand proudly on my arthritic legs,
Secure in my invisible, inner strengths and beauty.
By Dr. Alice riger, PHD
Dr. Alice Riger, PhD is a a retired psychologist. This poem was written in response to a humiliating incident she experienced 55 years ago as a college freshman. As she walked from her dorm through an open courtyard to the dining hall, a young man hopped off the low wall where he’d been sitting with a half dozen male friends. He exaggerated her arthritic gait, waddling like a duck, and made barnyard animal noises, to the uproarious laughter of his friends. Thus, the incident incorporated both sexism and ableism, as does the poem.