3 signs you need to advocate for yourself
Self-advocacy did not come naturally to me. I had to learn it.
At the age of 18, I suffered a fractured pelvis in a foreign country. Care in this country was less than ideal. They thought it was a “jammed back.” I wasn’t actually diagnosed with the fracture until a month later in a British hospital. I was given ibuprofen, sent home, and told to “take it easy.”
The thing about having a pelvis fracture is, it is invisible. There is no cast, and, in my case, pain did not show in my regular movements. It was only when I had to climb stairs, bend over, lift things, or sit for long periods of time. Then, the pain was intense. On the outside, I looked like a healthy 18-year old, and, as an athletic female, strong. I was often asked to lift, move or exert when older adults were present.
Recovery took years. I had to learn very quickly to both identify when I was in pain — surprisingly hard to do when it would arrive slowly, like in a long car ride. I was like the toad in the hot water — the waves of pain didn’t register until I was boiling in it. Not being used to hurting, it took some practice to recognize the pain, and to speak up about it. Slowly, I learned to advocate for myself to prevent pain too. I learned to be ok, for example, with the raised eyebrows when I’d explain I had an injury that prevented me from lifting and “could you [the older adult] lift that chair?”
It still is tough to advocate for myself, to ask for help, understanding or change, which in my definition are all self-advocacy. It requires pre-meditation, regular reflection, and a surprisingly high amount of self-esteem: “I am worth fighting for.”
I’ve thankfully recovered from the pelvis injury, but other things keep happening that require me to take advantage of accommodations or to ask others for help.
Over the years, I’ve come to identify three major signs that signal the need for self-advocacy.
Physical Pain
This one should not be surprising given my story above. The pain can appear benign at first. Recently, I developed golfer’s elbow from typing. Given the lessons above, I should have said something sooner, but I let it boil until it was keeping me up at night. Once I came to my senses, I had to advocate to myself first: I needed to take advantage of available accommodations, like speech-to-text. I also needed to write shorter emails, maybe less “perfect” than my personal standard.
Sometimes the person to whom we need to advocate first is … ourselves. I can be a very demanding self-boss, and I needed to lighten up.
Eventually, I did advocate for myself to someone else: speech-to-text and shorter e-mails were not enough, and I had to change jobs. This meant communicating that I could not keep up with my then-boss. It felt very vulnerable, but it was the right move. I know because I’m feeling better. I’m trying to be smarter now about checking in with my body.
Quick tip: Do a scan of your body now. Is there an area you feel pain? Even if it is small, will it grow if you don’t ask for a change or make a change? What change can you ask for or make for yourself? You are not stuck. Other solutions present themselves when you say no.
Unusual Anger
Recently, a co-worker needed to take maternity leave. I had initially thought I could help her out by covering the entire time, but a more careful calender review revealed that would not be possible. I felt guilty for this. So I worked to help her find a second person to cover the time I couldn’t. When she realized she needed more time off than expected, and reached out to me about it, I felt angry, and not at her. Why wasn’t my department more prepared to handle this normal occurrence? Why did I feel so responsible? The first thought has some basis: high levels of stress around maternity leave is an inequity many teachers face, and I think some anger has its place, but I felt very, personally angry. I argued with the administration in my head and tried to advocate for other solutions via e-mail (shorter ones given my elbow!). I tried doing the mental gymnastics to see if I could cover the time. I realized I couldn’t and had to say, “no”. Again. Which made me even more angry. I realized much of my personal anger stemmed from the pressure I felt to rise to the occasion, when I had already said no to the original length of time.
Once I realized this, I waffled for few days because I am bad at saying no, especially a second time. And then emailed my “no” to make it official. Only then, my anger returned to normal levels.
Self-advocacy is a lot about saying “no.” More than many of us realize. It helps our colleagues to know us, to know our limits, and can create a healthier work environment. I hope my “no” will help to create a more equitable environment for teachers like my colleague in the future, perhaps much more so than a “yes” in the short term.
Quick tip: are you feeling angry? Or spending a lot of time arguing with someone in your head? Most importantly, are you feeling pressure to do something you really don’t want to do? That’s a sign that saying “no” is very likely the right thing to do.
Stress about the future
My spouse is in the Air Force Reserves, and occasionally needs to deploy. At the time of writing this, we know he will need to leave for a few months in the Spring of next year. I commute to a community college to teach a few classes, and realized I was feeling a lot of stress about my schedule in the coming Spring semester. My normal schedule would mean new classes for me, and I could not imagine trying to do the heavy lifting of designing/adapting curriculum for these classes while commuting during rush hour and carrying all of the work at home. I e-mailed my department about my concerns and asked for a new schedule. It took a lot of back and forth, and I had to stay strong in saying “no, I need something different.” I had to be patient in explaining the reasons why. More than once. But I got what I needed in the end. It boosted my confidence and boosted my knowledge of my value to my department, making it worth the effort to fight for it.
Yes, I could have taught the classes. But the mental toll of that work, while taking on more work at home, would have led to more stress, impacting me, my students and my husband. I will likely be more successful next semester because I stood up for myself.
I have learned, advocacy for yourself means advocating for others who depend on you. If it’s hard to muster the esteem for yourself, do it for others.
Stop for a moment. Think about your future. Does any part of the coming year or coming month or coming week sound stressful as hell to you? Listen to that. You may not be able to get out of it, but what if you could if you asked, or tried to negotiate a better deal? Stick to your guns.
You might be pleasantly surprised. Either way, you will be speaking up for your own health, which is healing and strengthening in itself.
These three: checking in for physical pain, anger or anxiety, tell me specifically where I need to ask for help or change. There are other signs, but these are the biggest ones for me. It takes practice to recognize them, and I’m still surprised by life and what I need to ask for.
But a benefit of practicing regular self-advocacy is that it has increased my self-esteem and my mental health, which allows me to relate better to people in my world, be a better teacher and coach, and be a good partner to my spouse. I am getting better with practice at asking for what I need.
Take a moment. Think about any areas causing you pain, anger or anxiety. And go fight for the changes you need.
It may not come naturally at first. But you are worth it.
