On screen and on stage, disability continues to be depicted in outdated, cliched ways
This article originally appeared on The Conversation on November 2, 2020.
The #MeToo and Black Lives Matter movements have forced Hollywood and other artists and filmmakers to rethink their subject matter and casting practices. However, despite an increased sensitivity to gender and race representation in popular culture, disabled Americans are still awaiting their national (and international) movement.
“Disability drag” – casting able-bodied actors in the roles of characters with disabilities – has been hard to dislodge from its Oscar-worthy appeal. Since 1947, out of 59 nominations for disabled characters, 27 won an Academy Award – about a 50% win rate.
There’s Eddie Redmayne’s performance as Stephen Hawking in “The Theory of Everything”; Daniel Day-Lewis’ portrayal of Christy Brown, who has cerebral palsy, in “My Left Foot”; and Dustin Hoffman’s role as an autistic genius in “Rain Man” – to mention just a few.
In recent years, however, we’ve seen a slight shift. Actors with disabilities are actually being cast as characters who have disabilities. In 2017, theater director Sam Gold cast actress Madison Ferris – who uses a wheelchair in real life – as Laura in his Broadway revival of Tennessee Williams’ “The Glass Menagerie.” On TV and in movies, disabled actors are also being cast in roles of disabled characters.
Despite these developments, the issue of representation – what kind of characters these actors play – remains mostly unaddressed. The vast majority of characters with disabilities, whether they’re played by actors with disabilities or not, continue to represent the same outdated tropes.
As a professor of theater and media who has written extensively on the elements of stage drama, I wonder: Are writers and directors finally poised to move beyond these narrative tropes?
Breaking down the tropes
Typically, the disabled characters are limited to four types: the “magical cripple,” the “evil cripple,” the “inspirational cripple” and the “redemptive cripple.”
Magical cripples transcend the limitations of the human body and are almost divinelike. They make magical things happen for able-bodied characters.
In many ways, the magical cripple functions like “the magical Negro,” a term popularized by director Spike Lee to describe Black characters who are usually impoverished but brimming with folk wisdom, which they selflessly bestow on existentially confused white characters.
Like the magical Negro, the magical cripple is a plot device used to guide the lead character toward moral, intellectual or emotional enlightenment. The magical cripple doesn’t learn anything and doesn’t grow because he already is enlightened.
In film, examples include Frank Slade, the blind army colonel who guides young Charlie through the perils of teenage love in 1992’s “Scent of a Woman.” Marvel’s Daredevil character is a perfect example of a magical cripple: A blind person imbued with supernatural abilities who can function above and beyond his physical limitations.
Evil cripples represent a form of karmic punishment for the character’s wickedness. One of the most well-known is Shakespeare’s Richard III, the scheming hunchbacked king.
In a 1916 essay, Sigmund Freud pointed to Richard as an example of the correlation between physical disabilities and “deformities of character.” The trope of the evil cripple is rooted in mythologies populated by half-man half-beasts who possess pathological and sadistic cravings.
More recent examples of the evil cripple include Dr. Strangelove, Mini-Me from “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me” and Bolivar Trask in “X-Men: Days of Future Past.”
Then there are inspirational cripples, whose roles equate to what disability rights activist Stella Young calls “inspiration porn.” These stories center on disabled people accomplishing basic tasks or “overcoming” their disability. We see this in “Stronger,” which retells the story of Boston Marathon bombing survivor Jeff Bauman.
In the inspirational narratives, disability is not a fact of life – a difference – but something one has to overcome to gain rightful sense of belonging in society.
An offshoot of the inspirational narrative is the redemptive narrative, in which a disabled person either commits suicide or is killed. In movies like “Water for Elephants,” “Simon Birch” and “The Year of Living Dangerously,” disabled characters are sacrificed to prove their worth or to help the protagonist reach his goal.
These characters serve as dramaturgical steppingstones. They are never partners or people in their own right, with their own drives and ambitions. They are not shown as deserving their own stories.
The persistence of these tropes underlies the urgent need to reevaluate the makeup of writers and production teams. Who writes these parts is perhaps more important than who acts them.
Beyond the hero’s journey
There’s a reason these formulaic roles are so prevalent.
For much of the past century, Hollywood storytelling has operated according to the hero’s journey, a dramatic structure that places the white male able-bodied character at the center of the story with atypical characters serving as “helpers” to support his goals.
This narrative model has conditioned audiences to see the helpers as purely functional. The tropes based on this framework define the categories of belonging: who is and who isn’t human, whose life is worth living and whose isn’t.
The one narrative journey that historically allowed the disabled to play a central role depicted them as working toward the symbolic reclamation of their dignity and humanity. In tragic narratives, this quest fails, and the characters either die or request euthanasia as a gesture of love toward their caretakers.
“Million Dollar Baby” and “Me Before You” are two good examples of films in which disabled characters choose voluntary euthanasia, communicating the socially internalized low value of their own lives.
But what if disabled characters already had dignity? What if no such quest were needed? What if their disability weren’t the thing to overcome but merely one element of one’s identity?
This would require deconstructing the conceptual pyramid of past hierarchies, one that has long used disabled characters as props to illuminate conventional heroes.
Carrie Mathison in the series “Homeland” can be thought of as representing this new approach. Carrie, played by Claire Danes, struggles with mental illness, and it affects her life and her work.
But it is not something to overcome in a dramatic sense. Overcoming the disability is not the central theme of the series – it’s not the main obstacle to her goal. Carrie’s disability does give her some insights, but these come at a price and are not magical.
“Homeland” further breaks the mold by giving Carrie a helper who is an older white male – Saul Berenson, played by Mandy Patinkin.
As we move towards greater gender and race inclusivity at work and in the arts, disability should not be left behind. More complex, more sophisticated stories and representations need to replace the simplistic, outdated and cliched tropes that have been consistently rewarded at the Oscars.
Associate Professor of Theatre and Dramaturgy, Emerson College
This article originally appeared on The Conversation.
5 ways to challenge systemic ableism during Autism Acceptance Month
This article originally appeared on The Conversation on April 21, 2021.
April is World Autism Month. It kicked off on April 2 — World Autism Awareness Day — launching a month of activities and events across the world including the Autism Speaks’ Light It Up Blue campaign. Each year, key landmarks across Canada and the globe, including Toronto’s CN Tower, Ottawa’s Peace Tower and Vancouver’s B.C. Place light up blue to promote public awareness and understanding.
What could possibly be wrong with a campaign to sensitize the public to autism?
World Autism Month and Light it up Blue have been the subject of protest from autistic self-advocates and organizations such as Ontario’s Autistics for Autistics and the national group, Autistics United Canada.
Self-advocates point to the absence of autistic leadership in awareness campaigns and describe how the powerful advocacy organizations that fund them — led primarily by non-autistic people — continue to portray autistic people negatively as mysterious puzzles to be solved. They continue to focus on cures for autism or therapies that aim to “fix” autistic people.
At first blush, it might seem that autism organizations are finally heeding the concerns of autistic self-advocates. Words such as “inclusion,” “diversity,” “acceptance” and “understanding” pepper their campaigns. Yet these organizations persist in advancing the rhetoric of autism as a burden and disorder and often exclude autistic people from leadership.
As allies, parents and critical autism researchers, we understand the dire need for awareness, advocacy and research. Findings from our Re•Storying Autism project show autistic children and adults experience higher rates of bullying, mental health struggles, misunderstanding, inferior education, underemployment and even premature death.
Families struggle with the stigmatizing effects of misunderstanding and the lack of meaningful or culturally relevant help. This is especially true for racialized autistic people and families, who face compounded forms of exclusion and harm.
Instead of communicating care or concern through awareness campaigns and lighting it up blue this year, consider learning about initiatives led by autistic people such as #RedInstead, Autism Acceptance Month and others. Here are five things that autistic people have been saying for years that require the attention of those who claim to intervene in the name of autism:
1. Awareness
The idea that “awareness” of autism is needed suggests there is widespread ignorance of the existence of autism. The explosion of autistic self-advocacy, social media presence and representation in mainstream media and television shows like Atypical suggest otherwise (though mainstream media still limits diverse representation).
Autism was once considered a rare condition, but one would have to be vastly disconnected to be unaware of it today. Instead of awareness, we need to challenge the ableism of autism awareness campaigns, advocacy and research — the persistent barriers and attitudes that value and favour able-bodied people. This devalues and excludes embodied difference, or only considers autism as something that must be “overcome.” People don’t get over autism — they live with it. And many live with it joyfully.
2. Perspective
A focus on autism awareness privileges the perspectives of non-autistic people. The organizations that support awareness such as Autism Speaks, are run mainly by non-autistic people and rarely include autistic adults.
Challenging ableism also means challenging the leadership and power of campaigns such as Light It Up Blue for autism and World Autism Day. Rather than focus on charitable organizations and “helping,” we need to turn our attention to self-advocacy, alternative activities, forms of support and research led by autistic people themselves.
3. Leadership
Much work is needed to achieve accessible and culturally relevant policies and practices for autistic children and adults, the latter of whom are frozen out of policy considerations. The continued lack of guidance and leadership from autistic people serves as a painful reminder that lives that deviate from what constitutes “normal” are only included on terms dictated by those policing the boundaries of what is considered “normal.”
Taking seriously the perspectives advanced by autistic people, means asking them what types of supports can make a qualitative difference in their lives. It means turning to the vast body of work by speaking and non-speaking people who identify as autistic. It means moving the focus away from blue lights, ribbons or other gimmicks, and working towards a sustained challenge to systemic ableism.
4. Neurodiversity
Becoming knowledgeable or informed about autism means appreciating the vast differences among autistic people and the many varieties of what it means to be autistic. Not all autistic people are alike and, thankfully, there are also many viewpoints. Troubling tropes of autism as a disorder and burden must be left behind, and replaced by a form of neurodiversity that embraces diversity.
5. Inclusion
We need to recognize and rectify the persistent exclusion of perspectives and initiatives advanced by members of Black, Indigenous and People of Colour (BIPOC) communities from autism awareness campaigns, as well as diagnosis and support. This includes embracing different cultural understandings of autism that depart from a western biomedical lens focused on deficits.
This April, and every month, we urge you to reconsider the meaning of World Autism Month from the perspective of autistic people themselves.
This article was co-authored by Estée Klar, a Ph.D. in Critical Disability Studies and Neurodiversity and an artist. She is the former founder of The Autism Acceptance Project in Canada (2005-10) and is presently co-collaborator with her non-speaking son/poet/artist, Adam Wolfond, and other speaking and non-speaking neurodiverse people at dis assembly: a neurodiverse arts collective.
Associate professor Disability Studies and Inclusive Education, Brandon University
Professor, health policy, disability, public policy, social movements, L’Université d’Ottawa/University of Ottawa
This article originally appeared on The Conversation
How to Support Mental Health in People with Autism
A new study suggests that autistic individuals have higher levels of stress and depression when they don’t feel accepted.
This article originally appeared on Greater Good, the online magazine of the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley.
Mental health among autistic individuals is an underdeveloped area of research—a situation that many autistic people are advocating to change. This is especially crucial since rates of depression and thoughts of suicide are higher among autistic people than in the general population.
But why would there be a stark difference in the mental health and well-being of autistic people compared to “neurotypical” people? A recent study, one of the few looking at this issue, set out to examine the importance of acceptance.
One hundred eleven autistic individuals in the U.K. filled out online surveys about their levels of acceptance—from themselves and society—and their depression, anxiety, and stress. Authentic autism acceptance would imply “an individual feeling accepted or appreciated as an autistic person, with autism positively recognized and accepted by others and the self as an integral part of that individual,” the study explained.
The results? As predicted, those who felt less accepted by others and by themselves showed higher levels of depression and stress.
When asked about societal acceptance, 43 percent of participants said they did not feel accepted by society in general, and 48 percent said they did not feel accepted sometimes.
In describing their experiences of not feeling accepted, respondents most often alluded to “misunderstandings and misconceptions about autism, experiences of masking/camouflaging,” and other issues, the study authors report. Masking and camouflaging refer to an autistic person making efforts to “pass” as neurotypical and the stress and exhaustion that result from that. It makes sense that feeling pressured to hide a part of yourself would result in higher stress and a tendency toward depression, given how critical social relationships and a sense of belonging are to well-being.
On the other hand, there was no significant link between autism acceptance and anxiety. The researchers postulate that anxiety can come from a host of sources for the autistic person; acceptance may not be as primary as, for example, the sensory sensitivities that can accompany autism.
So how can we support the mental health of autistic people?
According to the researchers, one factor that can contribute to acceptance is how we think about autism—in particular, whether we embrace the “neurodiversity” framework and a social model of disability, as opposed to a medical one. Neurodiversity is a way of conceptualizing mental differences as part of natural human diversity, as opposed to pathologizing some neurological makeups (such as autism) as abnormal. The social model of disability focuses on systemic factors within society that disadvantage particular people, whereas a medical model sees certain people as intrinsically, biologically disabled when they differ from a perceived norm.
The results of this study also indicate that we should pay greater attention to the stressful experience of “masking,” and ways that friends, colleagues, acquaintances, and family members can deepen their understanding of the autistic experience and help autistics feel seen for who they are.
A great place to start is to follow the #ActuallyAutistic hashtag on Twitter (an online social media movement whereby autistic voices are amplified with the slogan “nothing about us without us”), as well as the blog of autistic scholar and activist Nick Walker and my own The Neurodiversity Project. Learning about topics such as sensory sensitivities, heightened empathy (as opposed to lessened), and other unique autistic experiences can go a long way in understanding autistic people in our lives.
This particular study is noteworthy for surveying autistic individuals, as opposed to simply reporting professionals’ views of them. With greater self-acceptance and societal acceptance, autistic people may be able to foster a larger sense of belonging and agency, thereby reducing feelings of isolation, loneliness, and depression—all critical for mental health.
Author of the acclaimed book Divergent Mind
Creator of The Neurodiversity Project and The Interracial Project
This article originally appeared on Greater Good, the online magazine of the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley.
Avoiding Mental Health Stigmatizations & Encouraging Help Seeking Through Entertainment Media
Mass media have the power to shape our perceptions, attitudes and beliefs toward certain groups, issues and individuals. For better or worse, most forms of media, including entertainment media, serve as primary sources of information for many viewers, influencing our understanding of those around us and in turn, our future behaviors and actions.
Unfortunately, for those struggling with mental illness, the depictions of characters with mental health issues often focus on negative and extreme stereotypical traits that portray these individuals as a danger to society and themselves. These depictions are not only inaccurate and unrepresentative of the millions of people worldwide who face mental health challenges, but they also reinforce preconceived stigmatizations which can lead to diminished self-esteem and social exclusion.
Mental health professionals are often portrayed as odd, unhelpful, unrelatable and/or unavailable, which can have major consequences on those affected by mental illness. These negative portrayals can interfere with help seeking behaviors and prevent individuals from receiving treatment due to factors such as fear, shame, embarrassment and discrimination. A startling two-thirds of individuals with a mental health disorder never seek professional help.
Too often, entertainment programs portray mental illness as something that destroys lives and fail to show viewers that mental illness is common and treatable. By depicting treatment and recovery, the media can help normalize mental health issues, fight stigma, offer hope, and connect viewers with resources for themselves or loved ones.
In a survey commissioned by the mental health organization Mind, based in the UK, findings showed that after seeing a news report or drama involving a character with mental health challenges, more than half of the respondents expressed that it had improved their understanding of mental health issues and a quarter said it had inspired them to start a conversation about mental health. Furthermore, out of the respondents affected by mental health issues, one third were encouraged to seek professional help and get assistance.
Several other studies have highlighted the power of the media to reduce stigma, increase understanding of mental health and increase help-seeking behaviors. For example, one study found that participants who watched a film depicting an accurate portrayal of an individual with schizophrenia, were less likely to endorse stigmatizing attitudes toward individuals with the illness compared to participants who saw an inaccurate portrayal of schizophrenia. Another study found that having a strong relationship to the main character of a television series who had obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) was associated with lower OCD stereotypes and greater willingness to seek and disclose mental health treatment specifically among participants with a mental illness.
It is clear that the media have the power to influence our perceptions, attitudes and beliefs about individuals living with mental illness and also to help those affected. Therefore, it is in the best interest of millions of viewers and their loved ones for content creators to portray characters with a mental illness accurately and positively.
Here are some actionable insights for storytellers:
Avoid perpetuating stereotypes about mental illness that may be stigmatizing and harmful.
Avoid including stigmatizing language in scripts, such as “crazy,” “psycho,” “looney,” “wacko,” etc.
Avoid making mental illness the defining feature of a character’s personality.
Introduce likeable and relatable characters who also might happen to encounter mental health challenges.
Portray doctors and therapists as helpful and supportive rather than incompetent or unavailable.
Model help-seeking behaviors such as talking to therapists, talking to trusted friends/adults and calling/texting helplines.
Model help-seeking behaviors not only for serious or diagnosable problems but also for common challenges such as stress, divorce and death.
Show supporting cast characters modeling supportive behaviors and describing options for seeking help.
Insert message of mental health treatment, hope and recovery.
Vicki Harrison, MSW
Program Director, Center for Youth Mental Health and Wellbeing
Stanford Psychiatry Center for Youth Mental Health & Wellbeing
Adrianna Ruggiero
Senior Research Coordinator for CSS
More Realistic Physical Representations in Media Will Support Youth Mental Health
More Realistic Physical Representations in Media Will Support Youth Mental Health
HIGHLIGHTS
• A CSS study found that the majority of human characters in children’s television in the US and Canada, especially females, were portrayed as thin or very thin.
• Studies show young women have a significantly more negative view of their body
• Exposure to sexualizing media leads to self-objectification in both men and women.
For many years, parents, child advocates, and mental health professionals have expressed their concerns about the influence of mass media on children and adolescents’ perceptions of body image, body satisfaction, and self-esteem. Over the past decade, with the rise of digital media and young people’s nearly constant engagement with media and technology, there has been an increasing alarm. Sadly, the media is filled with unrealistic representations of what our bodies should look like and do not accurately reflect the range of body shapes we see within our society—female characters and models often have bodies that are smaller and thinner than average, and males are often shown as physically strong and muscular. On top of this, these characters are often portrayed as being successful, accepted, sexually desirable, and happy while overweight characters are commonly used as comic relief, are often ridiculed in social situations and regarded as unattractive.
A recent report looking at children’s television in both the US and Canada showed that the majority of human characters in children’s television, especially females, were portrayed as thin or very thin. In addition, female characters were nearly twice as likely to be sexualized in the US based on factors such as revealing or flattering clothing, long eyelashes, and sensual lips.
While many things can contribute to one’s body satisfaction (or dissatisfaction) and self-esteem, several research studies have established that children and youth are indeed vulnerable to mass media images and messages that encourage and reinforce distorted body images and unhealthy perceptions about dietary health.
In one striking example, a landmark study over the period that television was introduced to a community in Fiji demonstrated the dramatic effect these images had on young adolescent girls, showing how they internalized the Western images of beauty, resulting in disordered eating habits and patterns. Moreover, a meta-analysis of 25 experimental studies examined the immediate effect of exposure to a variety of images and found that body image, especially for females younger than 19, was significantly more negative after seeing thin media characters than after seeing average or plus-size media characters or inanimate objects.
Exposure to hundreds and thousands of these inaccurate and unrealistic images over time sends the message that they are common and normal within society, when in fact, they are difficult if not impossible for most people to achieve. In fact, these images are almost always digitally manipulated, modified and enhanced to achieve this ‘ideal’ body image, creating an even larger gap between reality and what we see in the media. The impact of not being able to look like these characters in the media is associated with decreased self-esteem, body satisfaction, depression, and eating disorders.
Moreover, exposure to sexualizing media leads to self-objectification in both men and women – which feeds a destructive cycle of measuring self-esteem by physical appearance. At a time when rates of anxiety, depression and suicide are on a steep rise, especially among young women and girls, putting a stop to these distorted media representations is long overdue and more important than ever.
While the problem remains significant, we have seen some positive improvements in advertising and marketing campaigns in recent years. For example, Aerie, the lingerie retailer, created a campaign, #AerieREAL, which intends to promote body positivity by using raw, un-retouched images that feature models of different racial backgrounds and body types and more recently, models with disabilities and other medical issues. Similarly, Dove’s Girls Self Esteem campaign has a similar mission. Many popular retail brands, such as Target, Old Navy, Nike, and Forever 21, have followed suit by incorporating a diversity of body types and/or scaling back on re-touching photos in their advertising.
In TV and film, avoiding these distorted physical stereotypes is still the exception, not the rule. There are a handful of shows making a solid effort to promote more “body positivity” through inclusion of a variety of body types and characters, but they are unfortunately few and far between. We need to see much more of this – and urgently – especially for any hope of stemming the tide of rising rates of anxiety, depression and suicide among our youth.
Inclusive and realistic portrayals can promote body acceptance and reinforce self-esteem – and wellness should be prioritized over ratings. If done well, the ensuing culture shift should open the door for a new era of creative, representative content that viewers can relate to and embrace.
To contribute to positive body diversity in media, here are some actionable insights for content creators:
Offer more realistic cultural standards of beauty through a diversity of body types and experiences.
Avoid characters fixating on weight loss and beauty.
Create characters who model body positivity and acceptance.
Deviate from cultural norms of women needing to be slender and men, strong and muscular.
Offer an alternative narrative to one featuring women and girls as sexual objects and men as fixated on female physical characteristics above all others.
Show characters who deviate from the cultural norms of beauty as romantically desirable and socially accepted, not just as sidekicks or comic relief.
Vicki Harrison, MSW
Program Director, Center for Youth Mental Health and Wellbeing
Stanford Psychiatry Center for Youth Mental Health & Wellbeing
Adrianna Ruggiero
Senior Research Coordinator for CSS
How Can we Improve Media Representations of Autism?
How Can we Improve Media Representations of Autism?
Collaborate with Autistic People
Have you ever seen an autistic character on TV? Chances are, you answered yes. Since Rain Man introduced autism to the general public in 1988, autistic characters have become increasingly common on TV [1] and in movies. Learning about autism from autistic characters can help people understand and accept autism. Indeed, high quality contact is linked to more positive attitudes toward diversity [2]. However, media representations also have the potential to decrease autism acceptance by promoting stereotypes [3]. So, how can we improve media representations of autism? Hint: You would get the same general answer if you asked other types of minorities how to represent their identities more accurately.
Shows with autistic characters are often developed with substantial input from clinicians and family members of autistic people. For example, the puppeteer behind Julia, an autistic character who is wholeheartedly accepted by her peers on Sesame Street, uses her experiences as the mother of an autistic child to create a believable character. Yet autistic people themselves are generally NOT part of the process of developing autistic TV characters. This lack of involvement is surprising given that autistic people are often more knowledgeable about autism than others [4] and bloom socially through engagement in theatre [5].
By leaving autistic people out of the process of developing autistic characters, we risk creating one dimensional characters that represent only limited aspects of the autism spectrum. Indeed, most autistic TV characters are highly gifted and eloquent, albeit with social difficulties. Not only are savant-like characters overrepresented in media representations of autism, the gifts autistic characters exhibit show repetitive tendencies on the part of content creators. For example, the autistic characters in two separate TV shows (Touch, one of the few shows to portray a non-speaking autistic character, and Waterloo Road, one of many shows with verbally precocious autistic characters) demonstrated savant skills by reflecting on the Fibonacci sequence. Repetitive representations of autism may reinforce stereotypes while also depriving the large population of autistic young people of role models they can identify with.
We, 3 autistic college students, 1 autistic college graduate and a professor, would like to share personal reflections from the autistic members of our team about how media representations of autism get it right, get it wrong, and can get it better.
What do you like about how autism is represented in the media?
Billy: I would say in the past 10 years alone, we’ve come pretty far in the way autism is shown in the media. 10 years ago, the characters you saw on TV shows who had autism were side characters whose only defining characteristic was their disability. Today, you see characters on the spectrum who are stars of their own show like Atypical (2017) and the Good Doctor (2018) and are portrayed as complex characters in their own right. On the Good Doctor, Shaun is shown to be going through personal struggles of his own unrelated to autism such as him having not fully recovered from the trauma of his older brother’s death when they were kids.
Jin: I think Adam (2009) was a good portrayal if you consider the fact that the titular character is not only autistic. He’s depressed (his father died shortly before the film’s start) and that exacerbates the classic withdrawn symptoms that might present in someone who’s autistic. I heard complaints from someone that he didn’t end up “getting the girl” at the end and that this reflects negatively on autistic people and their ability to get into relationships, but personally it felt clear that they weren’t right for each other at the time (I didn’t like Beth anyway). It’s not like they made Adam void of sexual attraction (an issue with disability representation in general), because he very clearly voices it. I think Adam is a good look into someone who has to navigate depression and anxiety along with functioning differently in general.
What do you NOT like about how autism is represented in the media?
Nick: One of the biggest problems with characters with disabilities, not just autism, in media is that when writing a character with a disability, one can fall into the trap of writing a disabled character before one writes a character with a disability. In layman’s terms, the disability becomes the character instead of informing it. However, I’d argue a bigger problem is a hesitancy to portray people with autism who can be unpleasant on purpose. One example of this is The Good Doctor, where all of the ideas the autistic doctor has worked. It would have been a lot more interesting if something that he thought of didn’t work and he would have to take the responsibility of having made a decision that caused a patient’s death.
Billy: One of the biggest problems with how autism is represented in the media is that when a character with autism is portrayed on television, they’re presented as one dimensional characters whose depth is the stereotypical symptoms of their disability. Like Nick said, their disability becomes their character. In Atypical, the main character Sam, who has ASD, is portrayed as hopelessly naive with no idea how to approach social, and by extension romantic situations. We’re also presented as savants with total brilliance in one area, but disabled in all other areas. This goes back to Rainman (1988), in which Dustin Hoffman’s character is portrayed as a math genius, but is unable to take care of himself and lives in an institution.
Bella: Unfortunately, the media doesn’t include everyone on the autism spectrum. While the Good Doctor has an autistic character named Shaun who works as a surgeon in a hospital, there are not a lot of TV shows that show how autistic people struggle to get jobs. Sheldon, a scientist that shows autistic symptoms on the show Big Bang Theory, lived with his friends before he got married which is in contrast to stereotypes about how autistic people live in society as people who can’t have jobs or get married.
How can media content creators better involve autistic people in the process of developing media?
Nick: The best way to write a character with autism is to have it inform their character instead of being their entire character. For example, in Mary & Max (2009), Max is a man who is a social outcast because of the way the world has treated him. This is not always obviously reflective of autism.
Bella: Directors could research what life is like for autistic people. Although some shows illustrate how autistic people deal with their lives, they need to include autistic characters who display diverse symptoms. Autistic people can exhibit great strengths in technology, so directors could hire them to work at their companies. People can interview autistic people so that viewers can understand what life is like for autistic people. If TV shows could show how autistic people struggle to live in society, then society would understand more.
Here are some actionable insights for storytellers:
Media creators should employ autistic people as writers, actors, technicians and in other roles helping to create autistic characters. Rather than just having one isolated autistic character in each show, thus magnifying the sense that autistic people are different from “the norm,” diverse communities of people should be represented.
Greater representation of non-speaking autistic people is needed. Autistic characters should be as complex as any other character, with autism one aspect of their multifaceted identities. Autistic characters should have opportunities to succeed and to fail, to help and to be helped, and autistic people should play a central role in helping to create them.
Kristen Gillespie-Lynch
The graduate Center; City University of New York
Collaborator of the Center for Scholars and Storytellers
Nicholas Tricarico
The College of Staten Island; City University of New York
Billy Pinkava
The College of Staten Island; City University of New York
Bella Kofner
The College of Staten Island; City University of New York
Jin Delos Santos
Hunter College; City University of New York
References
1Morgan, J. (2019). Has autism found a place in mainstream TV?. The Lancet Neurology, 18(2), 143-144.
2Corrigan, P. W., Larson, J., Sells, M., Niessen, N., & Watson, A. C. (2007). Will filmed presentations of education and contact diminish mental illness stigma?. Community mental health journal, 43(2), 171-181.
3Draaisma, D. (2009). Stereotypes of autism. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B: Biological Sciences, 364(1522), 1475-1480.
4Gillespie-Lynch, K., Kapp, S. K., Brooks, P. J., Pickens, J., & Schwartzman, B. (2017). Whose expertise is it? Evidence for autistic adults as critical autism experts. Frontiers in Psychology, 8, 438.
5Corbett, B. A., Gunther, J. R., Comins, D., Price, J., Ryan, N., Simon, D., ... & Rios, T. (2011). Brief report: theatre as therapy for children with autism spectrum disorder. Journal of autism and developmental disorders, 41(4), 505-511.