A memoir penned with one good finger, Ndopu writes about being profoundly disabled and profoundly successful
Global humanitarian Eddie Ndopu was born with spinal muscular atrophy, a rare degenerative motor neuron disease affecting his mobility. He was told that he wouldn’t live beyond age five and yet, Ndopu thrived. He grew up loving pop music, lip syncing the latest hits, and watching The Bold and the Beautiful for the haute couture, and was the only wheelchair user at his school, where he flourished academically. By his late teens, he had become a sought after speaker, travelling the world to address audiences about disability justice.
Ndopu was ecstatic when he was later accepted on a full scholarship into one of the world's most prestigious schools, Oxford University. But he soon learns that it's not just the medical community he must thwart— it's the educational one too.
In Sipping Dom Pérignon Through a Straw, we follow Ndopu, sporting his oversized, bejewelled sunglasses, as he scales the mountain of success, only to find exclusion, discrimination, and neglect waiting for him on the other side. Like every other student, Ndopu tries to keep up appearances—dashing to and from his public policy lectures before meeting for cocktails with his squad, all while campaigning to become student body president. Privately, however, Ndopu faces obstacles that are all too familiar to people with disabilities, yet remain unnoticed by most people. With the revolving door of care aides, hefty bills, and a lack of support from the university, Ndopu feels alienated by his environment. As he soars professionally, sipping champagne with world leaders, he continues to feel the loneliness and pressure of being the only one in the room. Determined to carve out his place in the world, he must challenge bias at the highest echelons of power and prestige. But as the pressure mounts, Ndopu must find his stride or collapse under the crushing weight of ableism.
Written with his one good finger, this evocative, searing, and vulnerable prose will leave you spellbound by Ndopu’s remarkable journey to reach beyond ableism, reminding us of our own capacity for resilience.
Inspiring, funny, thought-provoking, and incredibly vulnerable, this memoir of navigating success and completing a master's degree at Oxford while disabled is a must-read. Eddie Ndopu is a disability activist born with spinal muscular atrophy and documents this part of his life as a queer, Black, disabled man struggling to get adequate care at one of the most elite universities in the world. In some ways this is a scathing critique of how Oxford admitted him in full knowledge of his physical reality and then failed to provide the necessary support. Eddie shares some truly horrific experiences with caregivers and university bureaucrats, but he is nothing if not a fighter. And clearly values real friendship and support a great deal. He narrates the audiobook himself and I recommend listening if you are able. He is eloquent, passionate, and funny. I received an audio copy for review from Libro.FM, all opinions are my own.
SIPPING DOM PERIGNON THROUGH A STRAW is a searing and direct commentary on ableism and “upright” privilege. Eddie Ndopu delivers critical insight on what it is to be a Black, queer, and disabled man existing in a world that has little regard for, and rarely accommodates disabled folks. Though it took some getting used to, I appreciated Ndopu’s choice to refer to non-disabled folks as “uprights”, making sure that his experiences as centered. It was difficult to read Eddie recounting his struggles with finding competent care aids, the disregard for his humanity, and the way a university with an 8.22 billion pound endowment refused to cover care costs— yet touted his admission around for DEI points. Yet, overall, it was inspiring to see how Eddie Ndopu has fought, and continues to use his voice to advocate for disabled folks. Cheers to everything he has accomplished. This is a must read.
His memoir on existing as a black, queer, disabled man and how he fought and continues to fight for disability rights is insightful and thought provoking on his experiences with ableism while still written with humor (he wrote his whole memoir using his one good finger!)
Cheers and Na zdravi to you, Eddie! You are a King 👑
This memoir written (and the audiobook is narrated by the author as well) by disability activist Eddie Ndopu is inspiring, funny, vulnerable and thought-provoking. He shares his experience with being a queer Black disabled man who's going to study at Oxford, one of the most elite universities in the world and how they're not accommodating the needs they promised. It's an exploration of dealing with ableism in this world and society which is infuriating and horrifying while there are also a lot of funny moments. I'm always recommending Sitting Pretty as a disabled memoir for people to read (especially able bodied people) to educate themselves and now this one will definitely be one I'm also going to constantly recommend! Thank you to Libro.fm for an audio copy in exchange for a honest review
As an “upright” (Eddie Ndopu’s term for an able-bodied person), I’m going to get this out of the way now - this guy is inspirational. I am quite sure he hates that (I believe he said so in this book), and though I know it’s generally a really frowned upon thing to say, here I am saying it anyway. I am inspired by him. I’m inspired by his tenacity, and his patience, and his determination, and his advocacy for himself and other disabled people, his honesty, his accomplishments, his bravery in writing this memoir and laying everything he did out on the table like he did.
I am a fully able-bodied woman who could barely pay my own car insurance when I was his age - and at TWENTY-SIX this man was dealing with damn near insurmountable odds stacked against him, and managing to crowd fund enough money to supplement an Oxford University scholarship TWICE, actually attending Oxford, battling the school for adequate and fair disability access and support, and freaking doing worldwide leadership level advocacy and hobnobbing with President Barack friggin Obama at Davos. All with one functional finger.
Come on now. That is incredible.
The indignities that he had to endure during all of that broke my heart and made me break down more than once. The fact that he was unable to relieve himself for WEEKS because multiple care aids simply wouldn’t lift him onto a toilet… and the fact that none of them even questioned anything about it, made me see red. Didn’t they wonder why he hadn’t soiled himself? The lack of empathy, the lack of humanity from these care aids was ASTOUNDING. And he was PAYING for these helpers.
And yet, he persevered through it all with grace and style and humor and such a dazzling mind that I can absolutely understand his friends’ loyalty and love for him, and I’m so glad that he has them around him. I hope he finds all the joy in this world - he deserves it.
Wow, I learned so much from this book. Eddie, thank you for being so vulnerable and honest about your experience at Oxford. I was seriously expecting this to be a "dream come true" type of experience but it was far from it. I couldn't help but get so frustrated and annoyed with fellow "uprights", like what the f*ck people, is being a decent human being really that hard?! Yes, yes it is. We see Eddie face SEVERAL horrible instances and awkward social moments where I would have honestly just given up and head home. This is an excellent book about perseverance and how quality friendships can help you get through anything.
Eddie Ndopu charts his journey from South Africa to Oxford in his perfectly titled memoir Sipping Dom Pérignon Through a Straw: Reimagining Success as a Disabled Achiever (it really was the title that grabbed my attention to read). Ndopu was born with a profoundly disabling condition called spinal muscular atrophy, and his mother was told not to expect him to live past five years. But instead, Ndopu shone and became a successful global humanitarian and was offered a spot in a graduate program at Oxford University- a major feat. While Ndopu's mental abilities are unaffected by his condition, he requires significant assistance with virtually all activities of daily living and much of this memoir charts the challenges, many bureaucracy-filled, on obtaining (and paying) for the needed care at Oxford. I appreciate the vulnerability Ndopu showed throughout the memoir, and I sympathized with his frustrations. I only wish he had also spent more time on what he studied at Oxford- so much was focused on his struggles to find necessary care and basically having to fund raise for it, I missed out on context of his work prior to coming to Oxford, his studies there, and his work afterwards.
Thank you to Grand Central Publishing for the advance reader copy in exchange for honest review.
4.5/5 This memoir was captivating, heartfelt and inspired me to think about my own allyship and advocacy. Ndopu brings a nuanced, intersectional lens to a number of issues faced by disabled folks, especially in the context of academic institutions. I liked the way he wove in formative stories from his past which helped to get a good sense of the author’s personality and to feel connected to him as a character. Also this man has a great sense of humour. I also appreciated the heartbreaking honesty with which he laid out all the emotions he experienced through the unbelievable process of switching care aides multiple times and having to advocate so hard to Oxford. I thought his anecdotes helped to illustrate struggles that I as a non disabled person hardly ever have to think of such as choosing between someone else’s comfort and your own and having to appear “grateful” for basic support. More than anything this was a reminder of the importance of community and mutual aid. I actually wish it had been a bit longer so we got a bit more of the context of Ndopu’s life pre Oxford but generally would recommend!
As we're introduced to Eddie Ndopu in "Sipping Dom Pérignon Through a Straw: Reimagining Success as a Disabled Achiever," we're also introduced into the intense ableism he encounters on his daily journey toward becoming globally recognized for his humanitarian efforts.
Diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy at the age of 2, Ndopu's brilliance in this opening scene is nearly matched by his stark vulnerability. An alarm testing has gone off inside the residential building where he is currently being assisted in bathing by a paid caregiver. Despite Ndopu's protests, this caregiver is intent on obeying institutional rules and quickly vacates the building with Ndopu only minimally covered and still, yes really, in his shower chair.
At the same time that Ndopu is achieving academic excellence, this is but one example of the myriad of ways in which he is also experiencing daily ableism and frequent humiliations.
These kinds of experiences are shared throughout Ndopu's first book, "Sipping Dom Pérignon Through a Straw," a book that Ndopu wrote with his one good finger and a book that is both profoundly motivating and profoundly vulnerable as Ndopu openly shares what it means to be a disabled achiever in pretty much any part of the world.
The vast majority of "Sipping Dom Pérignon Through a Straw" covers Ndopu's acceptance on a full scholarship into the prestigious Oxford University's inaugural African Leadership Academy. Despite Oxford's seeming embrace of Ndopu's presence, it quickly became apparent they were ill-equipped to meet the needs of a qualifying student with significant disabilities. Oxford, which doesn't come off particularly well here, responds to his challenges with such profound ableism (and familiar for those of us with disabilities) that it's a wonder that the intensely motivated Ndopu persevered and lived to tell about it.
As a disabled achiever myself, though certainly on a different scale, much of "Sipping Dom Pérignon" was achingly familiar and maddening. From daily humiliations to difficulties in both affording and obtaining appropriate supports to peers who either lean toward "inspiration porn" or the other extreme of apathy, Ndopu writes with an openness and honesty that is refreshing and also community-building. He serves as an example that the promising disabled achiever can manage these challenges, I dare not use the word "overcome," and yet he also serves up reminder after reminder of the highest cost paid by many individuals with disabilities who choose to buck the system in an effort to make a better life for themselves and for the world around them.
While building his global reputation, Ndopu also deals with basic issues like how to go to the bathroom when an aide isn't allowed to lift you. He deals with hefty bills not covered by his "full" scholarship and he deals with a lack of support from the university that seems to regard crowdfunding as his answer to everything. The examples go on and on.
On the plus side, Ndopu poignantly shares the building of a village and the importance of this very vulnerability in ultimately achieving success. Forced to find his stride or crumble under the crushing weight of ableism, Ndopu builds a world where he gathers with world leaders while also wades through painful loneliness, social isolation, and monstrous uncertainties.
"Sipping Dom Pérignon Through a Straw" is a moving and engaging introduction into the life of a man recognized as a "global changemaker," neither a full-on memoir nor really a self-help book. Instead, it's a hands-on journey into a disabled achiever's journey toward remarkable success while still living his daily life with spinal muscular atrophy. Both exhilarating and maddening, "Sipping Dom Pérignon Through a Straw" informs, educates, and inspires while poignantly sharing the ways big and small that ableism exists in daily life.
Written with patience and precision and with one good finger, this evocative and vulnerable prose advocates for a more universally accessible world for all while reminding us of our own capacity for resilience.
I really enjoyed listening to this memoir from a queer African man born with spinal muscular atrophy and how he had to fight for accommodations, adequate care givers and financial aid in order to accept his scholarship to study in Oxford, England.
Great on audio narrated by the author himself, this book was equally funny and infuriating as he details the lengths he had to go to find a caregiver able to assist him and fight against the ableism and institutional ignorance of Oxford - raising his own funds and fighting to get the school to give him what he needed in order to stay.
Sadly so many people with disabilities face similar barriers and don't have the means to overcome financial and other hurdles the way the author did. Recommended for fans of other memoirs like Jerry Lewis told me I was going to die by Canadian Matthew del Papa.
Ndopu got into Oxford University and thought he was breaking down a barrier for disabled individuals. But, even before he got on campus, he runs into issues with obtaining a personal caretaker. It's astonishing.
I suppose what we need to know is that ableism is alvie and well. Little is done to assist Ndopu. When he needs more money to help pay for a caretaker, the university tells him to create a gofund me page. Remember: this is to accommodate Ndopu so that he has equal access to meet his most basic needs - and the university is unwilling to help.
It's eye-opening, because Oxford is prestigious, but we soon see it is just like any storied institution: the walls have cracks in them.
Ndopu's story of one of resilience and one that made me check my privilege.
This book specifically covers the year Eddie spent at Oxford, and then a few chapters at the end post-graduation. It talks about how much he struggled to get people at Oxford to take his needs seriously. In that regard it's really well done. I admit I thought the sections where he relays conversations he held with his friends to bring the book down--they felt a little too imagined/recreated to me. Like they were scripted. I would absolutely recommend this book though.
This book brought me to tears on multiple occasions with its relatability of the disabled experience. Eddie describes the impact of ableism on just a snapshot of his life and does so in a way that emphasizes its constant presence. I am so appreciative and in awe of the ways he continues to educate and challenge able-bodied or “uprights” to expand their paradigm despite ongoing and present oppression. Thank you for sharing your story, Eddie.
I have some mixed feelings here, especially in the context of other books I've been reading.
First off, I think this book is absolutely worth the time... Eddie Ndopu is funny, direct, and clearly a fashion icon based on some of the photos in here. This book made me so mad when he delved into the details of all the additional red tape and BS he had to go through just to survive while ALSO doing a postgrad year at Oxford. Obviously, he's incredibly smart, and I'd love to hear some of his speeches mentioned in here. I did look him up and watch some interviews, but I'd be interested to know more about his goals in his work with the UN, etc.
The thing that I struggled with here is that, while he's calling for change in systemic policy, some of his phrasing still places a lot of value in the status quo. Maybe this comes down to a difference of personal politics, or maybe this falls outside the scope of this book, which focuses more on his past experience than on his hopes for the future re: systemic change. I'm struggling with how to articulate this, but it seemed to me that there was value placed on making certain aspects of an ableist system LESS ableist and more accessible, rather than in questioning the foundation of those ableist systems altogether? I think basically, my feelings boil down to the fact that I think parts of this book were worded to make this story as broadly palatable as possible to a readership that also values, among other things, celebrity and status quo. I'm not sure that a book review is the best place to hash this out in detail, so I'll simply say that I had thoughts on that front which account for my four-star review.
Overall, I think that this book is written primarily with an "upright" audience in mind, primarily to inform people of all the logistical red tape and barriers to access exist at so many levels of the system. Imagine the stress of pursuing an Oxford-level education while also navigating a situation in which your ability to use the bathroom is dependent on infrastructure that has not been taking into consideration by OXFORD UNIVERSITY. And the excuse is that they "don't have the resources?" What? Immensely frustrating. Mr. Ndopu should never have had to deal with that, and he's in a tiny minority of disabled people who have been granted even cursory access to those still-inaccessible spaces.
I look forward to seeing what he does in the future.
I am floored by Eddie's experiences, but this is not the place for my non-disabled tears. Eddie takes us through his first year of his master's in public policy program at Oxford University. However, the story begins at the time of his admission and acceptance, because he points out the way the systems that the world operates in --and more specifically, that academia is in-- are incredibly ableist because of the constant roadblocks to accessibility. Though anyone would be thrilled to receive a full scholarship to Oxford (and let's not get it twisted; Eddie absolutely is!), there is no mention of awarding Eddie an additional stipend for care aids and accommodations he will need in order to have a fully immersive and thorough student experience, especially since he will be so far from home (South Africa).
Once Eddie raises $20k pounds with the help of his friends and family, he is completely ready to start his Oxford adventure and to continue his quest in making the world a more accessible place for disabled folks everyone! Right? No. Then, he runs into another roadblock because of the visa situation for his care aid.
This is pretty much how the first half of the book feels; you're anticipating the next chapter, hoping to hear about Eddie's experiences at Oxford, and then, abruptly and relentlessly, Eddie is constantly at a standstill with waiting for care, empathy, and urgency, due to the inaccessible reality of Oxford (this was in 2016, so I'm unsure if it's changed by now but .... I work in academia and ..... I'm not confident). Eddie gets used to a revolving door of care aids throughout the school year, is charged even more costs for his care (upwards of $80k), is perpetually let down by academic leadership, the care agency, wealthier people who say they care, and by his aides throughout the book. It feels exhausting to listen to, and I think that was an intentional choice by Eddie, to show just how draining and disheartening this entire process could be for him.
He constantly has to be an advocate for himself, which means he can never truly feel rested or at peace. He recognizes the responsibility he has in fighting for disability rights since he has worked with world leaders, but he also is just a young adult trying to have a good graduate student experience. He deserved to have fun, to fully enjoy this experience away from home, and so many ableist policies and behaviors of the school and others kept getting in his way.
This isn't a story to make you feel pity towards or feel bad for Eddie; he graciously shared so much with us because I don't know that many of us non-disabled folks would ever quite know the reality of what Eddie went through on a daily basis, and possibly what others who share his same disability do too. No one disabled author is the voice for all disabled folks. However, I thought this shined a spotlight on the more challenging and infuriating parts of encountering ableism. Multiple times throughout the story, Eddie mentions having to barter being kind/palatable and grateful, in exchange for kindness and care -- when he described this about his CARE AID, I was fucking livid.
We are all human; we all deserve dignity, care, respect and compassion. We should not have to be palatable or "easy to work with" in order for others to care about the issues that we are going through. To be a Black disabled man is a reality I will never know. However, I will try to use my privilege to elevate and uplift marginalized voices in the ways that I can.
I highly recommend reading this for non-disabled folks especially. It presents the stark reality of what being disabled is like in a world that to be frank, just loudly and proudly shows it doesn't give a shit. Academic has a long way to go, but this goes for the whole world too! It was embarrassing as a higher education administrator to see the way higher-ed admins mistreated, toxic positivitied, dismissed, and objectified Eddie. I do not claim them but I know they're real.
On the other hand, if you have spinal muscular atrophy and this hits a bit too close to home for you, take care of yourself in choosing whether or not you want to read a book like this.
This book had me hooked from the beginning. I always try to read books by people from populations that aren’t my own. Eddie is a young Black man from South Africa who was born with spinal muscular atrophy. Despite how this motor neuron disease affects his mobility, the man has motivation and drive that makes me envious.
This is mainly a memoir about his time in the Oxford graduate program, and the book opens with a terrible experience he had that really makes you say, “Oh my God. I couldn’t imagine having to go through that.” The book discusses his challenges of paying for school along with his multiple caregivers and the other challenges he faces in everyday life.
This is a really good book that gives you a glimpse into what it’s like for someone with a disability. Fortunately, Eddie has become an activist who fights for accessibility and a more inclusive world for others with disabilities.
At the risk of sounding terrible, my only criticism is that there are some stories where I can’t help but wonder if additional context is needed. In this book, it sometimes seems like the whole world is against him and the people he describes act like villains from a movie who are purposely trying to make his life more difficult. This may be 100% the case or if I was in his position, I may have that perception of these situations as well.
3.5, pretty quick read, which was good since I had to use my eyes instead of just listen. I was torn between appreciating his advocacy and finding him a bit entitled. I feel like the stressful year at Oxford could’ve been avoided through better planning rather than expecting a school to pay for his care aides, but I can also see how it would be nice for disabled individuals to have their needs accommodated as part of the system rather than something they need to use their limited abilities to fight for each step of the way.
As for the writing itself I found his descriptions annoying and overly flowery or just off-putting. I think it likely matches his personality and he obviously is going to be himself, it was just a bit much to me at times and a bit full of himself. I also have to wonder how much truth is in some of the conversations. However, me questioning whether I’d enjoy being in his company doesn’t change the fact that he brings up some important issues in this book. There’s a real juxtaposition between the amazing life of privilege he’s actually lived being able to travel the world, his access to education, meet famous people and speak to world leaders, even being able to write a book complaining about what’s lacking in his access, and the fact that he can’t do anything for himself without help because he seems to only be able to control one finger at this point and what a terrible burden something like that must be.
Any praise for the accomplishments of the author that he describes and how he overcomes the challenges to achieve his goals might fall short, but I feel says more about the barriers ableist society put up to exclude and deny. When we compliment success is it because we don't expect 'them' to attain greatness? I commend his perseverance to reach for and grab what he wants because he does belong. Sharing his perspective can help us all be a little more empathetic and welcoming. We shouldn't ignore the person in the wheelchair just because we may be uncomfortable. Uprights are privileged and need to share space with those with alternate locomotion. I loved listening to him narrate his story, but I was also glad to have the kindle version too because of the pictures at the end. This also hits a popular topic in nursing education as the profession tries to expand to include exceptional individuals. We have a long way to go to be accepting of the many people who would make great nurses yet are excluded because of some 'preset' thinking of who a nurse is.
I was offered a sneak peek at the unedited page proofs, with no further compensation. Reading this was its own reward! Honestly, it's the title that first won me over. (As a fellow disabled person, I too use a straw to sip, well, everything.) This memoir is funny, vivid, moving, and poignant in many different ways. Using plain, straightforward language, Ndopu skillfully paints vivid pictures of his life at various stages and in various settings. Yes, there is a touch of snobbery, but you forgive that when you realize how he has been treated--no matter how high he climbs, there's always someone there to lay him low with ableist prejudice or neglect. You will not regret reading this, and you just might not see the world the same way ever again.
3.5/5 stars overall ⭐️ I have a lot of respect for Eddie Ndopu, a name I wasn’t familiar with before this book. His story is important, and I immediately followed him on IG to stay updated on him. The experiences he details should make any upright also feel frustrated about the common, lacks of accessibility worldwide (which everyone benefits from, not just disabled people.) I found the book itself to be too manicured at times, especially with quotes or overly-simplified summaries. I’m glad I read it to learn about him as a person, but there’s too many reused phrases and cliches. I expected more about his advocacy work as well, but the story is mostly just one year’s worth of time at Oxford. His efforts and speeches are too often summed up as broad “achievements”, which left me wanting to know more.
A memoir written by a very disabled African who came to Oxford to get a masters in world leadership so he could help his country and continent reach more parity with the rest of the world. When he won a scholarship to Oxford he never imagined the difficulties he would face in trying to keep himself safe and well while he studied. Oxford was not ready to provide the support he needed and even the most basic things created a huge challenge for him. He is extremely resilient and tenacious and didn’t give up. He read this book for the audio version and it was so touching and inspiring, I really recommend taking the time to get to know him.
A raw, honest, and infuriating story, Sipping Dom Perignon Through A Straw truly showcases the experiences of a disabled African man simply trying to love out his dream and contribute to the world. At times hilarious and then immediately anger-inducing, it opened my eyes to so much work there’s still to be done!
Sissevaade sellesse, kuidas erivajadused ei tee inimest vähem ega rohkem inimeseks, küll aga annab neist lugemine võimaluse vaadata endale otsa ja kohendada oma arusaama sellest, mis on hädavajalik äraelamiseks või noh, vana näidet meelde tuletades, puu otsa ronimiseks. Kõik, kes tahavad, suudavad ronida puu otsa. Mõni vajab selleks vaid rohkem soodustavaid tingimusi kui teised.
I feel like all “uprights” should read this book to get a sense of how hard it is to navigate the world as a disabled person. The individual and institutional blockers and biases Eddie describes facing were astounding.
unfortunately the people who need to read this book probably never will, but i hope all of oxford feels nothing but shame for what they put the author through just to earn the same education as his classmates. obviously disability advocacy is a special interest of mine, but this book was infuriating to read, but on the other hand completely inspiring in his refusal to play by societal expectations for people with disabilities