The Broken Column

                                    

                                          
In the penultimate session of the 2023-2024 season of [REDACTED], we discussed our interpretations of Kahlo's piece "The Broken Column". 
Collectively, we considered the portrait a physical, imagistic manifestation of Kahlo's struggles with chronic pain. The constrictive brace erecting her body upright and the nails driven into her skin reinforce the inhibiting nature of chronic pain, a usually silent, invisible struggle made violently visible. The vulnerability of Kahlo's pain is expounded by the vertical incision from her torso to her chin and further developed through her bare breasts, which continue to play upon the raw, unabashed violating nature of disability. Constantly exposed to pain and challenges to her "femininity" (i.e. issues with childbearing), Kahlo uses her stripped, restrained, and fissured body as both a symbol of her resilience and her vulnerability. Our analysis of such resilience and vulnerability is vital to understanding how one aspect of the self can exist within the context of the other. Resilience and vulnerability need not be mutually exclusive, especially as considered in application to femininity, chronic pain, or disability. 
Further analysis of the painting led us to notice how Kahlo's portrait cries, but whether it is for her pain, the social negligence of her pain, or her frustration towards these invisible binds, is all up to interpretation. We agreed that each of these factors plagues Kahlo's identity, however, our interpretations cannot encapsulate Kahlo's personal feelings toward her struggles. No matter our speculations, we cannot immerse ourselves in Kahlo's personal experiences to speak on her behalf. Part of the frustration within medicine is our inability to feel and understand what someone else may be feeling. We must rely on others' expressions of pain and ailments to spark productive conversations for psycho-physiological betterment à la intersubjective interactions. Within our group, conversations of personal chronic pain or mental inhibition sprang forth. Whether these associated stories were our own or experiences we shared on behalf of afflicted family and friends, there was a unanimous agreement on the importance of trust. Trusting oneself to correctly feel and understand undiagnosable pain and the bravery associated with trusting others to understand an unseen ailment are insurmountable. Often unseen pain is not trusted, forcing the afflicted to stay silent or continue to be mis/undiagnosed. Opening dialogue on these hidden aspects of the self is vital to enabling patients and ourselves to narrate our stories without kneecapping aspects of our identity. 
In a perfect world, there is no pain. In an improved world, all pain is visible and diagnosable. Yet in reality, we must do our best to increase awareness of these invisible wounds.