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Poster Child: A Memoir

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Emily Rapp was born with a congenital defect that required, at the age of four, that her left foot be amputated. By the time she was eight she'd had dozens of operations and her entire leg below the knee had been amputated. She had also become the smiling, always perky, indefatigable poster child for the March of Dimes, and spent much of her childhood traveling around the Midwest making appearances and giving pep talks. All the while she was learning to live with what she called "my grievous, irrevocable flaw," and the paradox that being extraordinary was the only way to be ordinary.

Poster Child is Rapp's unflinching, brutally honest and often darkly humorous account of wrestling with the tyranny of self-image as a teenager and then ultimately coming to terms with her own body as a young woman. It's about what it's like to live inside a broken body in a society that values beauty above almost everything else.

226 pages, Hardcover

First published December 26, 2006

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About the author

Emily Rapp

6 books88 followers
Additional books and editions on Goodreads under the name Emily Rapp Black.

Emily Rapp was born in Nebraska and grew up in Wyoming and Colorado. Born with a congenital defect, her left foot was amputated at age four, and she has worn a prosthetic limb ever since. A former Fulbright scholarship recipient, she was educated at Harvard University, Saint Olaf College, Trinity College-Dublin, and the University of Texas at Austin, where she was a James A. Michener Fellow. She has received awards and recognition for her work from The Atlantic Monthly, StoryQuarterly, the Mary Roberts Rinehart Foundation, the Jentel Arts Foundation, the Corporation of Yaddo, the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, and the Valparaiso Foundation. She was the Philip Roth Writer-in-Residence at Bucknell University and has received a Rona Jaffe Fellowship. Her work has appeared in The Los Angeles Times, Salon, The Sun, The Texas Observer, Body & Soul and many other publications. Emily has taught writing in the MFA program at Antioch University, Los Angeles, The Taos Writers' Workshop, University of California - Palm Desert, and the Gotham Writers' Workshops.

She is currently professor of Creative Writing and Literature at the Santa Fe University of Art & Design in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

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Displaying 1 - 30 of 90 reviews
Profile Image for Megan.
393 reviews7 followers
October 7, 2009
I initially approached this book the same way I do any other book - the subject sounded interesting, the description or maybe the title caught my eye. I'm a sucker for memoirs - basically any memoir - so I picked it up to read a few days ago with no more thought to it than that. I was about halfway through the book before I realized why, exactly, I was feeling a connection to Emily Rapp and her disability. I was kind of surprised when I came to this realization, though afterwards I thought it should have been obvious all along.

Emily Rapp is missing her left leg. I am missing my sense of hearing. My particular loss is a profound one, rendering my right ear nearly useless, forcing my left ear to compensate with its limited abilities, even with my hearing aids. Emily Rapp is challenged when it comes to walking without her prosthesis; I am challenged when it comes to hearing anything without my hearing aids. Once I realized that I shared this connection with the author, I finished the book with an entirely new outlook.

Why didn't I think of it sooner? I don't particularly think of my hearing loss often. Much like Emily I grew up feeling proud and strong and faithful in my body's ability to cooperate with me, to bend to my wishes, and in the doctors who could help me. I forced my body beyond the loss, quelling it, ignoring it. It was not a part of who I was; it did not define me, except to make me unique. Recent events in my own life have forced me to consider my loss in much the same way as Emily was forced as she began to travel and experience new worlds.

I recently upgraded my hearing aids, but not only that. I upgraded my own sense of self, my outlook on the world encompassing my own body. I did research on the hearing aids, considering carefully how they would work in my own life. Like Emily, I have a rapport with a physician who knows my ears better than I do - in my case he both evaluates and selects the hearing aids for me. I got them about a week ago. They came with a $6,500 price tag (certainly cheaper than a leg apparently is, but hearing aids are rarely covered by insurance), a wider range of sounds, and their own unique challenges that have left me considering my hearing in ways I haven't done before. What can I hear better? What is softer, as it should be? Does her voice really sound like that - does the air conditioning really have to be so loud?

Okay, okay, anyway. This review isn't about me, it's about Emily, and her book. I hope I've explained adequately my own take on the book. Her struggle resonated for me, but she also was able to convey her life in such a way as to be accessible and sympathetic to anyone. She definitely has a gift for explaining both the technology behind her multiple prostheses, and her thought processes as she grew up. She doesn't shy away from the difficulties she had, nor from the positive experiences and any emotions she felt.

I really found her book fascinating and a good read. I'm glad I read it at this point in my life.
Profile Image for Marie.
999 reviews80 followers
April 3, 2012
Having suffered from birth defects myself in addition to self-image issues from not feeling beautiful or "normal" while I was growing up, I'm drawn to memoirs by people facing similar challenges. Many years ago I was similarly moved by Lucy Grealy's Autobiography of a Face, about a girl who had to have 1/3 of her jaw removed as a result of childhood cancer.

Emily Rapp was born with a rare genetic bone and tissue disorder that resulted in one of her legs being shorter than the other. Throughout her early childhood, she had surgeries to amputate parts of her left leg and began wearing a series of prosthetic devices. The daughter of a Lutheran minister, she soon became a "poster child" for the March of Dimes, which at that time focused primarily on preventing birth defects instead of prematurity. Perky and smiling on the inside, yet grieving and deeply angry about her lot in life on the outside, she reacted by lashing out at her supportive family and becoming, in her words from an interview, a "spoiled brat."

Stricken with self-doubt and a desire to be beautiful, she devoted herself to becoming perfect in every way. This not only manifested itself as becoming a perfect student, but also becoming anorexic and obsessed with her weight. She also sets out to be an athlete, excelling at skiing and swimming, and becoming a school mascot for various sports teams.

Rapp is brutally honest about her feelings of brokenness and deep, aching loneliness. She befriends the aging, rough-around-the-edges veterans and other amputees she meets at appointments with her prosthetists. When she discovers the liberation theology of disability (pioneered by theologian Nancy Eiesland, who wrote The Disabled God) and the writings of other disabled women, her awareness cracks open. She doesn't really deal with the grief of losing her leg until she's living in Korea (a country that shuns people who are different, especially those with disabilities) and is terrified that her host family and students will discover her secret...and she has a breakdown. Later on, she undertakes a program for the Lutheran World Federation by bringing together disabled women from around the world to share their mutual experiences of disability and faith.

I too had birth defects (my mom had German Measles while she was pregnant). I was born with a cleft lip and palate, as well as a club foot (I had to wear a brace as a baby, but it was corrected). I had numerous surgeries throughout childhood and had to wear an awful, gagging speech appliance in my mouth (an obturator) until I was 15. As an adolescent, I had severely crooked teeth and had to have extensive orthodontia and two corrective jaw surgeries. My nose is not symmetrical (because of my cleft lip). Like Rapp's parents and experience, my parents never treated me as I were anything less than beautiful, but some other kids did. They stared at my scar, and even still, curious children ask me about it. In spite of their support, Rapp hates her body and cannot fathom the thought of ever making herself vulnerable enough to have sex without her prosthetis.

While I was reading this book, I discovered that Rapp went on to get married and have a child of her own. Tragically, her son Rowan has Tay-Sachs Disease and will not live past the age of three. She writes poignantly of being a "dragon mom" in this New York Times article:

"We are dragon parents: fierce and loyal and loving as hell. Our experiences have taught us how to parent for the here and now, for the sake of parenting, for the humanity implicit in the act itself, though this runs counter to traditional wisdom and advice.

NOBODY asks dragon parents for advice; we’re too scary. Our grief is primal and unwieldy and embarrassing. The certainties that most parents face are irrelevant to us, and frankly, kind of silly. Our narratives are grisly, the stakes impossibly high. Conversations about which seizure medication is most effective or how to feed children who have trouble swallowing are tantamount to breathing fire at a dinner party or on the playground. Like Dr. Spock suddenly possessed by Al Gore, we offer inconvenient truths and foretell disaster.

And there’s this: parents who, particularly in this country, are expected to be superhuman, to raise children who outpace all their peers, don’t want to see what we see. The long truth about their children, about themselves: that none of it is forever."

Again, I can relate. Even though my once-fragile baby boy has had a better outcome than Rapp's beautiful and precious baby Rowan will, I share her thoughts about shallow parenting. You know what I'm talking about...those parents who complain about the most ridiculous things or push their children to be outstanding athletes or students. And especially those who brag about their children's brilliance and look down on other children who struggle with academics,sports, or social issues. I have no patience for that...not when parenting for people like Rapp and her husband is boiled down to treating each day as a blessing, knowing that this day might be all they have. I remember trying not to worry as my son did not talk until he was three years old...and as he struggled to become potty trained, write his letters or draw pictures, play sports, make friends. I know too many parents who have lost their children in infancy or early childhood.

"What I can do is protect my son from as much pain as possible, and then finally do the hardest thing of all, a thing most parents will thankfully never have to do: I will love him to the end of his life, and then I will let him go.

But today Ronan is alive and his breath smells like sweet rice. I can see my reflection in his greenish-gold eyes. I am a reflection of him and not the other way around, and this is, I believe, as it should be. This is a love story, and like all great love stories, it is a story of loss. Parenting, I’ve come to understand, is about loving my child today. Now. In fact, for any parent, anywhere, that’s all there is."

I feel blessed to have read this book and become aware of Emily Rapp's beautiful writing.
Profile Image for Haylee.
104 reviews13 followers
December 17, 2012
I'm a slow reader so seeing that it didn't take me long to read this book definitely says something. I enjoyed it a lot, and related SO much to Emily in a lot of different ways. Same body issues (I don't have a hand), same worries about boyfriends and intimacy, same religious upbringing in a way. I was led to tears and had to stop reading at some parts because of how raw her emotions felt to me. I felt like I was reading my own story at times and it was almost too much for me. Like her, I hate thinking that I'm different Even though it takes 1 second of looking at me to notice that I am but I still tend to forget sometimes. So when I read this and related so much to the struggles she had with body image and boys not accepting her, it struck a huge cord. I'm rambling but the point is that this book was really, really good and really well-written. There were a few dry parts (like the last chapter, talking mostly about her different prostheses that even I found rather tedious and boring) but the rest of the book was excellent. I do wish she would have included some pictures though.
Profile Image for Emma Deplores Goodreads Censorship.
1,221 reviews1,374 followers
January 21, 2019
This is an interesting memoir, though not a great one. Emily Rapp was born in Nebraska in 1974 with a birth defect that caused one leg to be shorter than the other. Untreated, her legs would have stayed at the same length ratio as they grew, so instead she went through multiple operations as a young child. Her left foot was ultimately amputated so that she could wear a prosthetic leg, which she did from age five. This memoir focuses on her disability and how it affected her young life: it ends when she’s 24, though she was 33 by the time it was published.

It is a vulnerable memoir, as the author talks a lot about her feelings about her disability at various stages of her life. She’s also open about having been a spoiled brat as a child (even torturing small animals) and a bit of a bully in middle school. She’s very insecure about her leg, especially in adolescence and young adulthood, and worries a lot about being ugly or seen as “less than” by others; she becomes an academic overachiever and an expert skier and develops an eating disorder in high school, in what she views as a way of compensating for having a body she hates. It can’t have been easy to expose her insecurities and weaknesses on the page, and I think reading this book is a valuable experience for the way it lets readers inside her head.

That said, I don’t think it was a great book. It spends a lot of time on mundane details related to Rapp’s prosthetics: how they worked, what her prothetists’ offices were like and where they were located and how well she liked their locations and receptionists. It also seems to end a little too soon: her personal journey wasn’t over at 24, and there’s no epilogue about what she did after the main story ended. She even references at one point sticking with lovers too long after she’s let them see her stump, but this never comes up again; by the end of the book she still hasn’t been able to bring herself to take off her prosthetic for sex, and all these bad relationships aren’t included.

But I think perhaps the biggest reason this memoir isn’t my favorite is that the author lives an ordinary American middle-class life, with the “action” of the story almost entirely inside her head. Wearing a prosthetic (especially with the technology available during her childhood) was clearly not fun – it caused sores and even bleeding, especially if not adjusted properly – but fortunately it didn’t prevent her from being active and even athletic. She goes on to college, parties hard, studies abroad, all normal stuff. She apparently only gets picked on for her disability a couple of times as a kid, and only gets a couple of negative reactions as an adult. Despite all her worries about finding a man, she attracts male interest starting in middle school. I’m glad that she didn’t face more external obstacles, but the result is that much of the book is a chronicle of her angst. I don’t blame her for it and think it’s worth reading because lots of people with disabilities seem to share her fears and insecurities, but the story of her life is still a bit mundane.

And you need a fantastic writer to write a great book about mundane events. Rapp is a good writer – the language is fluid and always readable, leading me to read the whole thing fairly quickly, and she does a good job of recreating scenes from her life – but she isn’t a fantastic one. I’m glad to have read this book, and it will likely be helpful for many people, but it isn’t one I plan to recommend widely.
Profile Image for Bonnie G..
1,459 reviews284 followers
March 14, 2022
Rapp writes a nice sentence, but holy hell this was boring. I feel certain that I have fulfilled my lifetime quota of reading about visits to the prosthetist's office. Though their lives are altogether different this reminded me of the Dave Grohl bio which I abandoned early on. Well put together, the memoirists both seem like nice people, but so filled with the mundane it is impossible to imagine anyone could possibly be interested.
Profile Image for Kerry.
541 reviews13 followers
August 10, 2009
I had high hopes for this book as I began it. I was curious about a child growing up in WY & CO with a prosthetic leg. I loved the opening about being adventurous enough to take a risk and go to South Korea. However, I was sorely disappointed with the narrators tone, self-loathing, body image obsessed and controlling persona which emerged. I also felt that a lot more of the book was explaining her weight obsession than what the prosthetic looked like. There was only 1 photograph. Also, I felt as if the explanations for major life decisions were glossed over. When I really wanted to know about her connections with the UN or how she decided that theology was the field for her, I felt the reader was left in a lurch.
Profile Image for Virginia.
1,073 reviews142 followers
January 8, 2022
This is the third of this author's memoirs I've read, after The Still Point of the Turning World, and Sanctuary, which she published as Emily Rapp Black. Her experiences in those books were gruelling and painful to read (but, I know, nowhere near as painful as they were to experience and write about) and I was inspired by both her emotional honesty and writing skill to read Poster Child. I feel the same way here as I did on finishing Sanctuary: "It's a rare book where I heard everything the author was saying to me, bearing witness to grief ... I wouldn’t recommend this book except to a very few people who are strong enough to withstand it, to withstand confronting the unimaginable." I can't add anything to that. I sincerely wish for the best for this woman and can only wish that her future writing is filled with peace and fulfillment. I'll be watching out for it.
Profile Image for Liralen.
2,977 reviews211 followers
January 7, 2015
I read The Still Point of the Turning World a day or two before picking this one up, all the while thinking should I be reading Poster Child first? Answer: no, not necessarily. This filled in a lot of information, but it wasn't information that I needed for her second book, and I'm kind of glad to have gone into that one (somewhat) more blind.

You know how sometimes, reading a memoir, you can tell that the author has a real sense for pacing and content? This was one of those times. She's not trying to tell her whole life story here, but rather the story of her leg, her body, and what that meant to her life. She goes from the little girl who wants an eyepatch to go along with her wooden leg and who overturns her hospital lunch onto the doctor's lap because he took away her foot to the teenager who is so desperately ashamed of her difference to the young woman finally beginning to understand that to accept herself, accept her body, she'll have to tell her story without the veneer of indefatigable poster child.

It also ends up being, more subtly, a memoir of how her parents dealt with her disability. On the one hand they are as supportive as one could ask for, striving to make sure she has prosthetics that are right for her -- in the days when options were very limited, and doubly so for a young girl -- and suggesting that she can't do something because she has an artificial leg. On the other hand their sadness and guilt is palpable; there's nothing they can do to fix what went wrong, and nothing in their parenting arsenal is made to deal with the unusual (and often internal) struggles Rapp faces.

But Rapp pushes through, seeking again and again to prove that she can do it, that she's not different, that, leg or no leg, she is good enough. (Actually, I'm thinking that she sounds an awful lot like many of the overachieving perfectionists I know.) And eventually she realises, maybe, that that's not the point.


ETA: Just saw this interview on the BBC, and it reminded me of Rapp's tribulations with finding legs when she was growing up -- how limited her options were. How far things have come!
Profile Image for Danika.
324 reviews
August 8, 2012
This was a fairly interesting read, though very self-indulgent. I guess that's to be expected- it IS a memoir about a woman who grapples with disability and body images. It was in the same vein as "Autobiography of a Face" by Lucy Grealy which I enjoyed much more. I did think Rapp went on a bit too long on some of her points. And there were extended descriptions of practically every prosthetic leg she ever wore (probably 20 of them over the course of her life) which got very old. But I liked her struggle to define herself - initially she runs from groups of disabled people and does NOT want to be associated with them but gradually comes to terms with her body and becomes more of an advocate for disabled groups. Worth reading.
Profile Image for Becky.
308 reviews3 followers
March 14, 2014
Interesting memoir by a young woman who has worn a prothesis most of her life due to a birth defect. One year she was the March of Dimes' poster child, hence the title. The story gets a bit boring and repetitive at times, in part due to the strictly chronological structure. Because it's a short book, I occasionally felt the repetition was just to make it longer, but of course, I could be completely wrong. I still enjoyed reading it. Learning about the emotional struggle she goes through despite missing a limb all of her life made me wonder more about the adjustment that must be made by people who lose limbs later in life, especially when she writes about the Vietnam vets she meets in the prosthetics shop.
Profile Image for Mechele.
38 reviews3 followers
March 5, 2014
I absolutely enjoyed this book. The author is about my age. Her experiences mirrored mine. It was almost as if; in many ways: she were telling my story. The prosthetics she was fitted with were quite similar to the ones I was fitted with as well.
I too was the over achiever, to somehow prove "I'm just like everyone else."
The food issues that she had I experienced as well. Many, Many similarities to my own life. (Although I was never a Poster Child, and was adamantly against being anyone's token "cripple")
I would recommend this book to family and friends, as an inside look of what growing up in a "differently abled" body was/is like.
Profile Image for Brian.
1,748 reviews45 followers
April 10, 2012
This was a sweet, sad memoir about a girl who grows up having only one leg. She is born with a birth defect that causes her to have to have her leg amputated. She goes through life having to deal with the mockery of her peers, as well as dealing with the troubles of having a leg that is too small for her stump. The story was sad, but it was a bit one note for me.
141 reviews1 follower
April 3, 2013
Emily Rapp's debut novel is called Poster Child because the book is supposedly about her growing up as disabled child and becoming to one degree or another the poster child for the March of Dimes due to the genetic defect that left her with only one-leg. And for a good portion of the book, we journey along with Rapp as she bounces between prosthetic experts and goes through puberty and deals with the horrible wash of emotions and obstacles that a strong-willed girl with only one leg in the 70s and 80s would certainly face. Somewhere in the middle of the book though, Rapp loses focus or maybe reaches too far, and all of sudden the book isn't about struggling with the issues associated with disability, it's suddenly about anorexia (sort of) and travelling in Korea (sort of) and the difficulties of involving one's self in romantic relationships when you can't stand your own body. It becomes, quite frankly, about way too much. At the two-third mark what was a promising if not at times overly simplistic look at a life dealing with disability, Rapp suddenly opens the floodgates to a handful of ideas that pool around the books' ankles before being hastily tied in to the story. There are points where the author is explaining Korean food or talking about Tae Kwon Do where it feels so disconnected from what came before that you can almost feel her trying to rope it back in by referring to ideas and moments earlier in the book that fall completely flat.

This could be a big book dealing with some serious issues, but Rapp never digs in deep enough. One might say that this isn't the point of Poster Child, that this is the look at subject through the eyes of individual, but it seems clear that Rapp wants it to be bigger but just never pushes through to deal with them.

For those interested, Rapp's second book, the recently released The Still Point of the Turning World does just this - digs deep in to the subject of grief and loss while maintaining Rapp's frank, honest and at times beautiful writing.
Profile Image for BookishGal29.
170 reviews
October 10, 2016
Okay, so I really have mixed opinions about this book.

First, I would like to say that I did not choose to read this book - it was assigned to me for a class I am currently taking. At first, I really enjoyed the first 50 pages of the book (Rapp does write well I'll give her that). However, as the book went on, I began to sympathize less and less with Rapp. I found her bratty, annoying and attention seeking, not just as a kid but as an adult. She frequently refuses to take responsibility for her actions and in some cases uses the "I'm an adult I can do whatever I want" excuse. By the 2/3 point, I began to really dislike her.

Despite my opinions, I will say several positive things about the book:

1. Rapp does not hide who she is. She does not gloss over anything she says or does. In my opinion, that takes courage. For example, she tortures insects as a child and in middle school makes the life of some of her peers a living hell. Much of her behavior continues well into her twenties. Despite her appalling actions, Rapp does not show any kind of remorse. To me, this is slightly disturbing.

2. As mentioned above, she does write well and is very articulate. She does have a way of explaining her difficult circumstances and giving the reader a clear insight into her thoughts and opinions on a situation.

3. Rapp does go abroad to several places such as Ireland and South Korea. She does not let her circumstances hold her back. Again, this takes tremendous courage.

Finally, although I did not like the book, I felt I did learn many new things and got to see things from another person's perspective. For me, this is one of the reasons why I am an avid reader. I'm not going to tell you to read or not to read the book, because it does have many good parts, however, the narrator can be extremely mean and annoying in her interactions with other people - tread carefully.
Profile Image for Marnie.
727 reviews40 followers
November 17, 2011
I first heard of this book after reading an article that Emily Rapp had written for The New York Times about her son Ronan who has Tay-Sachs disease and likely won't live past his third birthday. Her story broke my heart and her perspective grabbed my attention. Her way of writing was in no way a "woe is me" agenda; she just seemed genuinely thankful for the limited minutes she has with her son.

But seriously, talk about a crappy genetic hand. Emily herself was born with a genetic disorder that resulted in her foot being amputated, her learning to walk in braces, having various prosthetic legs, and becoming the poster child for the March of Dimes. Her parents quite honestly sound like saints and did everything they possibly could to make sure Emily was comfortable and had the legs she wanted. Some reviewers have criticized her for having low self-esteem and a negative body image. I mean, hello? What girl, especially in their teenage years, loves their own body? Not tons of them. Then throw in the missing foot/wooden leg factor (not to mention a period of glasses and braces too) and I think her depiction was nothing but honest and real. I actually didn't interpret any of it to be self-loathing. I was impressed with her confidence throughout. She moved a few times, she made new friends despite certain odds, she managed sports teams to be a part of the team, she skied, she traveled...she did things a normal girl or woman would do. Of course, like any normal girl, there were times when she was self-conscious, worried about what clothes she wore, and she was very concerned about letting a man see her without clothes. The precautions she had to take and thoughts she had in completing some of these everyday events were interesting to read.

I liked the book. I like her. I think she is incredibly capable, inspiring, thankful, and honest.
Profile Image for miteypen.
834 reviews65 followers
November 18, 2013
This is an important book, but not a great one, mainly because of its unevenness. Rapp spends a lot of time going through all the details of her childhood, her operations and prostheses, and her developing self-perception. But she skims through her teen years, which are absolutely critical for the development of positive self-esteem and body image, and it felt like she ended the book too soon. There wasn't much of a resolution, which on one hand is understandable since we are always in the process of coming to terms with our realities, but on the other hand left me feeling a bit up in the air. Did she come to terms with her disability or not? There's some confusion on this point. She's very honest about her struggle to balance wanting to rise above her disability with being able to accept it and I thought she did a good job of describing the psychological problems that come with having a disability, but there was something missing. Perhaps I was wondering where her anger at the world was/is. She seems to have turned on herself, focusing on her inability to accept herself, instead of being outraged at a world that can't accept difference. I was surprised that there wasn't more in the book about that.

Her writing is at times lyrical and at other times prosaic. I'm looking forward to reading The Still Point of the Turning World because I suspect that it will show a lot more maturity as a writer, not to mention as a person.
Profile Image for Maija.
310 reviews8 followers
March 7, 2012
I really enjoyed the beginning and the end, but the middle dragged at times. I appreciated an opportunity to read about someone not all that different than me in age/gender/upbringing, etc & her experience growing up with a disability. I think the teen years are awkward enough - I can't imagine having a fake leg & how much more insecure that would make you feel. I remember not wanting braces because I already had glasses! (and how wonderful it was to get contact lens in junior high).

I wish she had spent less time on the body issues. Not to sound cold, but it seemed likely anyone (especially female) would have these, and I felt like the book got stuck on this topic. I would rather have read more about after she came home from Korea, what made her go to Divinity School at Harvard & other life choices (since the author bio said she is now a professor in LA!). Instead, the book just ended at the beginning of all this.

Maybe she plans to write another. In fact, I found this book because I read an article she wrote about her child who has some rare disease and will not live beyond his toddler years. Can you imagine? She didn't even mention her disability in this article, and it seems unfair for one person to have to deal with some crummy stuff in life. It was a really sad topic, but i enjoyed her writing & sought out her book.
Profile Image for Pam.
89 reviews
August 22, 2007
I picked up this book because I work in a lab that does molecular testing for various neuromuscular diseases and the title caught my eye.

I was not knocked out by the content of the book - although I think that the author is an amazing person and I hope that she continues to collect awards for her writing- but also that she can find the time to take care of her inner self now that she has proved to everyone - and hopefully and most importantly - herself that she can be faster, better, stronger than just about anyone we would meet on the street.

She is courageously honest with herself and didn't seem to need to paint anything in a flattering light. She almost seems to give more credit to her Mom and Dad than to herself for all that she has become. Her success seems to have come at a price that she is just beginning to realize.

I hope to read more from Emily Rapp in the future. She certainly has let us in her head in a way I don't think I've ever been privy to before. Should make future reads more interesting and provocative.

Profile Image for Luanne Castle.
Author 7 books48 followers
February 7, 2017
Although I had a stack of books to choose from, I read this one first because I was so taken with the photo on the cover.

Emily is a little girl on a pretty bike with training wheels. Her red hair is long. She looks like a fun but girly girl wearing white lacy socks and white sandals. But there is one thing amiss in the photo–the girl has an artificial leg.

I read Emily’s book not long after reading Lucy Grealy’s memoir. Both are about childhoods filled with surgeries and medical problems. In this case, Emily’s foot was amputated by doctors as a treatment for proximal femoral focal deficiency (PFFD).

This memoir pulled me in because the voice is that of a friend, and she tells her story with honesty, humility, and intelligence.

This book is so graceful and appears as if it has written itself. But I now know better. A lot of hard work went into making it all look simple. Rapp didn’t spend that much time writing it either. And her degree was in theology, not writing. She graduated from Divinity School at age 23. So impressive.
Profile Image for Molly.
Author 6 books93 followers
March 15, 2013
This is a moving and honest story, which I deeply appreciate. Rapp doesn't shy away from telling the less-savory bits of her attitude towards her prosthetic leg: most movingly, she tells of how she'd pinch wings and legs off bugs or leave salamanders in tanks to die from starvation or thirst.

For me, I prefer a less straight-forward, chronological telling; instead, I prefer a more nuanced telling. Sarah Manguso's book The Two Kinds of Decay is a perfect example of this, each chapter like a prose poem, each narrative cycling back and surging forward. The death of insects and small creatures in Rapp's childhood could have come back as a telling image, but it was left be in order to chronicle on.
August 30, 2013
This is such a well-written book, I feel kind of bad for only giving it three stars. She is brutally honest about her own feelings, and if you're interested in getting in the head of a person struggling to come to terms with their disability, this book certainly offers that opportunity. But fact is, I really don't ever want to read it again. The author does a beautiful job of evoking the pain and self-loathing that many young people (with or without disabilities) experience. Too good, really; I don't need to relive that. My other complaint about the book is that although it reaches a sort of resolution, I was left with no clue as to how the author got from that point to the point that she has reached in the blurb on the back of the book; an afterword, at least, would have been nice.
Profile Image for Amber.
224 reviews21 followers
December 10, 2009
I had originally added this book to my TBR list after reading a review in People magazine when it was first released. I thought it was an interesting look at the life of a woman who is born with a genetic defect that immediately moves her from the world of the normal to that of the disabled. I found her struggle with body image, something that most women face, very interesting when colored with the additional burden of being an amputee. I also had no idea the multitude of issues that come along with having a prosthetic limb and how much the prosthesis industry has changed in the last 30 or so years. Quick read, but very informative.
Profile Image for Barbara Ixba.
56 reviews
June 19, 2012
This wasn't a bad book, but it wasn't great either. When I was in the 3rd grade my father had his leg amputated, and I vividly remember all of the conflicting emotions this event brought about in my own life. I was expecting more raw, uninhibited emotion. I was expecting this book to help me see things through my father's eyes, but I don't feel like it accomplished that. While the author did share her story and how she felt along the way, the descriptions seemed one-dimensional and never really drew me into the moment. I think this story is worth knowing, but the writing could do so much more to create an "in the moment" feeling.
Profile Image for Libby.
168 reviews6 followers
September 4, 2012
This is a fascinating, honest, no-holds-barred account of Emily Rapp's struggles with her birth defect (PFFD), which resulted in her needing to have her damaged leg amputated and needing to learn to cope with prostheses over the years, which thankfully have much improved since she was a child. The psychological aspects of body image are explored as she chronicles her experiences as an overachiever, as a teenager desperate to fit in, as a young woman exploring her sexuality with men. It's difficult at times and compelling reading, but then, I'm a memoir addict and this was a very satisfying read.
Profile Image for Sandy Tonnesen.
34 reviews
May 13, 2013
Have you ever tasted a vertical flight...the same wine spanning multiple years? It really provides an interesting perspective on the wine maker. Well, this is how I felt reading Poster Child, Emily Rapp's first memior. Having loved The Still Point of the Turning World, her second memoir, I found within Poster Child glimmers of the writer that a maturing Emily Rapp would become. Poster Child is a good book, and a wrenching story - but it doesn't have the same deep, introspective expression that characterizes The Still Point of the Turning World. Be on the look out for this writer, because she's now turning her sights to fiction.
Profile Image for Blaise Dierks.
107 reviews6 followers
October 4, 2007
this is a memoir from a woman who was born with a deformity which ended up with one of her legs being amputated at age 4. It was really interesting to read about her struggles to deal with this throughout her whole life. she shares her innermost thoughts and feelings...very candidly.
i really like learning about what life is like for someone who is different than me so that is why i enjoyed this book.
sometimes the philosophical "why me" musings got a little old though
still, i can't imagine if that was me and i think it was very brave of her to share so much of that inner turmoil
Profile Image for Blanca.
170 reviews25 followers
February 10, 2008
Intimate, interesting and with appropriate sentimentality, the memoir of a child amputee figuring out how to be normal and extraordinary at once resonates with the insecurities of young women. Her writing elegantly reveals her changing voice from a precocious toddler through awkward school age years through adulthood without betraying a narration that is visceral of her experiences. Body image fears boil down to the same pangs of fear, self-loathing, denial and hopefully acceptance for most young women, serving further proof that Emily Rapp is indeed both normal and extraordinary.
Profile Image for Erin.
347 reviews12 followers
July 31, 2009
The author describes how a birth defect caused her to have her left foot amputated, the ensuing ordeals of prosthetics and adolescence, and how she finally came to terms with her disability. An interesting story from an unusual point of view; it got a little too philosophical and analytical at the end for my taste (she DID major in theology and studied divinity at Harvard), and I would have liked to see some photos of all the prosthetic devices (the verbal descriptions were extremely technical and difficult to visualize).
December 10, 2013
Poster Child by Emily Rapp was a really good book in my opinion. There were many humanitarian issues present in this book. The book went through Emily's life as she battled with her birth defect and trying to find the person she really and truly was. The humanitarian issue that I picked was birth defects and how they are fairly common. Also there are many ways to prevent them from occurring. I felt that the TED talk was very easy because of the humanitarian issue that I picked. It was easy to connect to this book because I wanted to learn more about this topic.
Cassie
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