TAP DANCING ON EVEREST combines a coming-of-age story with an adventure, intersecting themesof feminism, medicine, and reverence for nature. Why is this book important now?

 

The search for identity is a universal experience that’s always meaningful—heightened during the
coming-of-age years—but continuing throughout life. Specific themes significant now include
elevating women’s experiences, our relationship with the natural world, and the need for finding and
using one’s voice in a world of disinformation.

Conquering mountains has a male-dominated history, but I wanted to tell a different kind of
expedition story—not about climbers—but about a woman in the shadows until the men’s lives were
at stake. Despite advances in opportunities, women are still often in the background, underestimate
their capabilities, and have trouble being heard. Coming-of-age on Everest was a dramatic backdrop
for discovering what I’m capable of and how I want to use my voice. My father’s legacy as a Holocaust
survivor and subsequently as an advocate for peace is a strong influence on my advocacy and an
important part of the story.

One message I wanted to convey is that facing challenges that we’re afraid of, or think we’re not ready
for, is difficult but results in growth. My “Everest,” was assuming the role of team doctor while I was a
25-year-old medical student.

The book highlights the restorative power of immersion in nature and in solitude, both increasingly
recognized as important in our over-stimulated world.

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The body is an important theme in your book, if not even a character. Can you explain why?

Our bodies contain who we are, yet we often don’t know how to relate to them or listen to them. I write in the book that when I got out of my head and let my body lead, I felt more whole as a person and more joy. That happened while dancing and hiking. Part of the story is how I matured while learning to take care of the bodies of others. Since I’m a physician I wanted to normalize bodily functions by including details such as changing my tampons in thigh-deep snow and using a pee bottle.

You write about how your parents arrived by ship in N.Y. harbor, your father being the only survivor of the Holocaust in his family, and its effect on you. Why was this important to you?

All people carry family history that influences them, and the immigrant story is particularly resonant. I
avoided the word “trauma”, but made clear how my father’s story haunted me, influenced me to seek
my own path, and ultimately emboldened me. I wanted to tell the story of a physically strong Jewish
woman because there aren’t many Jewish adventure memoirs. My family’s history of survival,
displacement, and migration made me consider random opportunities as possibilities.

You evoke distinct places vividly including growing up in New York City, The Catskills, Rocky Mountains, Israel, and the Himalayas. How does “place” influence you?

Place affects our daily experience in deep ways. Traveling alone as a young person taught me to be more present and aware of my environment, which was revelatory. I aimed to capture those places the way they were then since many have changed now.

How did you come to write The Post-Roe Monologues?

Shortly after Roe v. Wade was overturned, I was inspired by the Vagina Monologues to use storytelling
to promote empathy. It felt like the perfect confluence of my writing, advocacy, and career as a
gynecologist specialized in Complex Family Planning. Previously, I’d testified at the Georgia legislature
against bills restricting women’s health rights, worked with community groups, and wrote Op-Eds. For
the play, I also conducted interviews with people from the communities represented to ensure adiverse range of voices.