On a rare day off, professional dancer Adrianne Haslet was enjoying a peaceful Sunday stroll through her city streets when the Boston Marathon attack forever changed her world.
In a matter if seconds, the first blast left her without part of her left leg.
“I was bleeding profusely, then I looked down at my left leg and the bottom of my entire foot was gone – my shoe was missing and my ankle was missing. That’s when I knew that all of my dreams since I was five years old were completely gone. For 30 years, dance all I knew. I just thought, ‘there it goes; I’m going to be sitting on the couch and eating Cheetos for the rest of my life’. I knew nothing about prosthetics at the time,” said Haslet.
But that’s exactly what she didn’t do.
Haslet has turned her horrible situation around for a greater cause, becoming an outspoken advocate for amputee rights. She’s also returned to dancing, winning her first competition post-injury.
Last week, Haslet was invited to be a speaker at MUSE Toronto, a modern-day salon for Toronto arts, technology, and science professionals. The event was hosted by Klick Inc., one of Toronto’s most innovative technology companies. When I caught up with her there, the striking 35-year-old was more than happy to share her journey and how she’s turned her unfortunate circumstance into activism.
Haslet’s injury could be a lot worse – and for that she’s grateful. Sensing another bomb would hit, she immediately covered her head, eyes, and ears. As a result, she was the only one on the entire block who didn’t suffer permanent hearing damage. On a day when everyone was in runners, her four-inch heels also helped make her a below-knee amputee as opposed to an above-knee amputee. “As a ballroom dancer, you condition your feet, so you never, ever wear flats. If you switch back and fourth, your feet will get sore, but if you are in heels, you condition your muscles to react a certain way,” said Haslet.
But those silver linings didn’t make the initial shock and trauma any easier.
In the days and weeks following the bombings, Haslet controlled her environment for her own mental health. “I turned off the news, I wouldn’t let anybody talk about it in their discussions of the day; I wouldn’t let music play in the background because then I would naturally want to choreograph and it would break my heart,” she says. “Even interviewers knew not to ask me certain questions because I didn’t want any new information. For the first month, I legitimately thought that the bombs came from a plane. I had no clue about the manhunt. I kept it really sheltered, and absorbed information as I was ready for it, after therapy.”
Haslet realized almost immediately that she wanted to not only continue dancing, but also make a difference in the lives of others.
“I was digging deep in the rabbit hole of internet searches and came to a blog about an amputee who couldn’t afford a prosthetic leg,” says Haslet. “I had a realization that when someone was watching me and other survivors of the Boston Marathon being gifted legs and prosthetics, as much as I appreciate it and I don’t degrade that at all, the next day it may be tough for others. When I was doing interviews, my internal dialogue was like, ‘if I was sitting on a couch or in a hospital room seeing all these people get attention, and I had just been in a tracker accident or a car accident, or had cancer and had been amputated, I would hate me’. Ever since that moment, I knew I wanted to turn it around into advocacy.”
With an appearance on Dancing With the Stars and a CNN documentary, The Survivor Diaries, television and speaking engagements have offered mediums to do just that.
“I know my TV appearances contributed to me having a voice for other people, and I know that makes the whole thing really worthwhile and good. I’ve been able to use that for changing laws in congress, to team up with people, and change coverage in Medicare,” says Haslet.
The CNN documentary represents a brutally honest portrayal of the life of amputees – the good, bad, ugly, and angry. That was the idea from the beginning.
“We agreed that the only way I would be able to do it was to show the really hard times,” said Haslet. “The times when you’re like, ‘I don’t feel like putting on my leg, I really hate it right now’. Or, ‘I’m really angry; I really lost touch with people there for a minute’. The hard stuff really showed through and it impacted a lot of people. The world lacks a lot of emotional honesty and I feel like that helped a lot of amputees feel like they could be more emotionally honest. Their families would watch it and say, ‘gosh I didn’t know you were going through that, but now I see what that looks like’.”
Becoming a celebrated activist doesn’t mean she’ll ever forgive her attacker.
“I hear people say that they’re so happy it happened to them because it opened their eyes to a greater cause, but I’m not glad it happened,” says Haslet. “I’m happy I have opened my eyes to things, but I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason and I was there to do certain things. Anyone can be an advocate for people that really want to do it. You can accomplish anything in life regardless of circumstance.”
Naturally, the recent attacks are affecting her. She even had a cousin who was outside the stadium in Paris last month, and who didn’t check in for two days, opening fresh and familiar wounds for Hastlet and her family.
“I was supposed to leave the country and go alone, which normally wouldn’t be a big deal, but things change. You have nightmares and all of these things, and I was just a total disaster; I was a mess. It’s pretty clear over social media – I went all out. But again, it’s emotional honesty,” says Haslet.
She has also reached out to victims of recent terror attacks the same way families of the 9/11 victims reached out to her. “Nobody has answers, but we can at least be in a club that none of us want to be in. Sometimes it’s easier with complete strangers,” she says.
For Haslet, it’s the mental pain that’s the biggest challenge. As an athlete, it didn’t take her long to physically heal.
“Not to discredit the agony it feels to bear weight on your tibia bone again for the first time; you eventually just kill the nerves, and that’s how you learn to walk,” says Haslet. “But the mental anguish is tough.”
And that’s exactly why she’s making life easier for others.
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