“Often, maps are created not to reveal exclusion, but to create it.” p. 4/30

I thought the essay Steep Steps was really interesting, especially in terms of how there are rhetorical decisions being made when considering specialization and designing architecture that have real-world implications regarding including or excluding certain types of bodies.

I have to admit that I have never considered my own body in the context of a classroom and have very dim eyesight when it comes to other bodies. Because I am not physically disabled or have to manage my body in a way that requires special attention or access— my body in relation to a space or other bodies is simply not on my mind. But I do have panic disorder which has a powerful effect on my body and can even turn an inviting, open space into a trap, a jail, a narrow corridor through which I have to tunnel my way to freedom. Perhaps this personal observation of my own body’s limitations is irrelevant, but I felt compelled to relate to the topic of disability.

As far as my students go, I am sad to admit that I don’t notice their physical (in)abilities in class. What I am keen to notice is their emotional responses to prompts, to freewriting, to collaborating, to the student who is always joking, to their new group, or to the alarming realization that they’re being called on to speak in class. Perhaps we only notice what we are already familiar with.

Our classroom is a spatial nightmare. It’s one of the smallest rooms with 24 little clamoring desks, disseminated without fashion, like jacks tossed from a handful. If someone needed to get out fast they would be met with the same deluge from which they previously passed.

How do I become more aware of something that, when is not visibly present, is held privately?