Under the Surface
by Dr Bijna Kotak Dasani MBE, FRSA
At the tip of the iceberg, what’s visible is that I am an alumnus and Honorary Doctorate of DMU. I’m an ivy-league educated, award-winning ethnic minority woman who has broken through many glass ceilings, addressed audiences across the world and attained significant cultural exposure by living and working globally - whether that be London, Wall Street or beyond. I have also had the humbling privilege of serving Monarchies.
However, underneath the surface is a different narrative, one which I am constantly and consciously working to strengthen through a deeper understanding of past traumas. By refining the practices used to address these traumas, I am constantly seeking to strengthen my future.
I am a survivor of multiple post-traumatic brain injuries and have recovered from emotional, economic, psychological and physical trauma, as well as complex post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Through my recovery I have begun to explore the complex intersectionality of my experiences, specifically within the context of diversity, equality and inclusion.
An awareness of intersectionality highlights how our social identities work on multiple levels, often resulting in unique experiences and opportunities - but also barriers. For me, this combination of heritage, social norms and cultural expectation has resulted in both opportunities and challenges.
I am a British woman of Indian origin and African descent and both identities have enriched my life and world view. Yet while my journey has been extremely valuable and fulfilling, there has also been moments of extreme adversity. The cultural and social expectations around gender-based norms are often intertwined and have proved to be challenging for ethnic minority women.
That being said, in my earlier years I discounted the fact that I am a survivor and that I would need assistance in certain situations. I often denied my condition, trying to convince myself that I could ‘recover’ from a condition that will in fact stay with me for life. Yet while my condition has changed my existence, it has also given me profound awareness of visible and invisible disabilities.
As a , I earlier failed to accept the long-term repercussions of my condition and how they extend to physical, hormonal, emotional, cognitive and behavioural realities. They daily impact my actions and decision-making, and coming to terms with this, as well as learning to manage my (physical and emotional) health in a more informed way, has been a constant journey.
What used to be simple, second nature tasks - grocery shopping, long-distance driving, carrying my luggage through airports - has now become managed and well-planned exercises that must consider timing, impact and efficiency. I have to understand and approach these activities, and life in general, through the lens of what’s best for my mind and body.
Wearing the has played a significant role in my recovery over the years. The program has helped create wider visibility for invisible conditions, which are part of the lives of over 1.3 billion people on the planet.
When visiting , it is important to note that they use a social model/human rights approach. The aim of their work is for no-one with a long-term impairment to experience social exclusion, stigma, stereotypes, negative attitudes or socially-created barriers, whether in their immediate environment or by the way things are organised. I strongly support this model as it is imperative we stand together and openly address impairments of any kind. If we can help disabled people become more comfortable and catered to, by default our societies become more inclusive and equal for all.
I am proud to be celebrating Disability History Month as a survivor and member of the disabled community, a community that encompasses one in six people around the world.
As a community and alongside our allies, we should continue to inform policy and provisions, as well as educate others, by example, across diversity, equality and inclusion sector.