What we call our residual limb.

The words and names we use for things create meaning, for us and others. My choice of words impacts the feelings I hold and others' perceptions. We have feelings wheels and mood meters to give us language (I'm grateful for those, in so many contexts.) And for names and identities, the opinions and feelings run so much deeper.

I appreciated the article that Jennifer Lapham Robinson wrote for Amplitude Magazine this month, Terms and Conditions. (A lovely word twist.) She writes about the names and experiences that people with limb loss and limb difference call their "residual limb."

For me, as a left below-knee amputee, it's mostly "my leg," without distinction from my other leg. Occasionally, I refer to my right leg as the "good leg." But as I get older, it's questionable which leg is my "good leg."

What resonated with me in her article was the connection between reclaiming a name or term and identity terminology. Anyone with a character trait that differs from the majority of others has some experience with this. Jennifer writes, "Accepting innocent questions from children can lead to wonderful exchanges, moments bubbling over with education and advocacy." My experience over the past 30 years, in the classroom and leadership, has been shaped by great questions from people, especially young people.

This connection makes me curious to ask a few questions of myself, as well as for you.

How might I reclaim the terms and names for words that have connected to my identity?

In what ways does being welcome to questions, curiosity, and creativity from others help me become my best self?

Check out Jennifer's article here - it's a delightful read for amputees and "normies" ;-)

https://livingwithamplitude.com/article/terms-and-conditions-why-language-matters-after-limb-loss/

Me, circa 2007 wearing a FlexFoot VSP (that thing was awesome), Chacos, and yes, a kilt. (I should have bought it, but heck - it wasn't cheap.)