Uncancelled at Last
Cancellation feels exactly as you'd expect: a deep pit of despair. Over the four years since I was cancelled for being racist, classist, and ableist—or at least that’s what the sensitivity readers of my memoir Some Kids I Taught and What They Taught Me concluded—I believe I have experienced every stage.
The Early Stages of Cancellation
At first, the weight of shame is almost unbearable. You curl up against walls and move through the streets like a shadow, avoiding attention.
Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder
Eventually, life resumes a more normal pace, but a new burden appears: Post-Traumatic Embitterment Disorder (PTED). This affliction follows relentlessly, whining like an anxious dog, marking every corner and invading moments of weakness.
“It pisses in every corner and gets in your lap any time you have a drink. It barks at kind people trying to help you or licks their hands slavishly. You mustn’t feed it but you do.”
Sometimes fate hands it a bone. When two friends removed my name from the acknowledgements in their prize-winning books, my PTED howled so loud the neighbors woke up.
Recovery and Re-engagement
This year, I strengthened myself, left the chair I had been hiding in for years, and painted my study yellow. The BBC contacted me for a podcast interview. I didn’t flinch; I may be a fitting example for discussions about culture wars.
Soon after, I was invited to join a panel and lead school workshops, starting to feel a bit like my old self again.
“I think this is the last stage of cancellation.”
Author’s summary: The author reflects on the deep emotional struggle of cancellation and the gradual journey toward healing and reclaiming their voice amid cultural conflict.