Since 1981, December 3 has been observed as the International Day of Persons with Disabilities. For more than forty years, efforts have been made to ensure that disability is no longer a condemnation that limits life and opportunities, but rather a condition to be addressed through the promotion of well-being and the rights of people with disabilities, to guarantee everyone genuine participation in political, social, and cultural life, and in sport…
An… alternative perspective
On a day when it is important to make ourselves heard, it is also important to raise our voices to remind people to promote the inclusion of people living with disabilities by breaking down architectural, social, and cultural barriers. We want to spotlight a young woman who, at a time when such “rights” were not discussed at all, was able to navigate and live with her disability, discovering its richness: Elise Bisschop.
Who is Elise?
Elise is a young woman who lived her very short life marked by severe lung disease. She lived between 1925 and 1964 in the French countryside and, from a very young age, had to undergo operations and numerous hospital stays. Yet everyone around her could not help but notice, and be infected by her joy.
She is a fragile, extremely fragile child, and she will become a sick woman; yet this condition gives rise in her to great inner strength, supported by a sensitive and poetic soul.
A life that cannot be considered “missing”
Elise’s experience, which reached us through the remarkable discovery of her letters and poems in 2017, carries with it the quality of light. Hers is a luminous life, a joyful life, a life we can describe as “full.” And yet, when we think of disability and illness, our first thought is of “lack”: a lack of health, a lack of a high-performing body, a lack of perfection. But when we get to know Elise, none of this comes to mind!
A dive into the abyss of difference
Reading Elise’s poems and letters, we dive, together with her, into the abyss of her “difference,” which is nothing other than the uniqueness of each person. A uniqueness that opens her to the world, to people, and to life, with an attentive eye for the nuances of everything around her: a tree, a cloud, a flower, a gaze, a smile, a hug… Within her wounded flesh, Elise discovers joy. A joy that does not erase suffering but makes it shine because she recognizes it as a source of richness. She writes: “Joy has entered my soul; without a doubt, it feels at home there. Nothing can drive it out.”
Elise, with her 38 years of life lived in anonymity, can open the heart of anyone willing to question themselves.
On this day, when we strongly reaffirm the importance of giving a voice, support, resources, assistance, and opportunities to those living with any kind of disability, let us do everything in our power to make the world a place where it is beautiful to live, and ask ourselves: who is disabled and who is able?
