Iridescence: Empathy Through Storytelling
AAPI Heritage Month Feature
When the rise of Asian hate crimes became so prevalent that it reached national headlines, I felt lost. As a child of Chinese immigrants who grew up in Southern California my whole life, it made me question my relationship with my own culture in a way that I never had before. What could I do to help my community? How could I do my part in trying to heal the polarizing divide in our country? My answer to these questions? Write the story of my life.
How Iridescence Came To Life
I believe that hate comes from a lack of empathy, and that media has the unique capability of giving the viewer a glimpse into someone else’s life, finding a universality in the personal. It might not change their mind completely, but at the very least, it can potentially challenge their preconceived notions on who someone is. So, I wrote a deeply personal short titled Iridescence that explores intergenerational trauma, mental health, and toxic masculinity. I utilized the Center for Scholars & Storytellers’ Boy’s Tip Sheet as a reference in shaping the dialogue and interactions of the characters. I also had the script workshopped in our CSS weekly lab session where multiple lab members gave me resources to research on authentically portraying cultural conflict and Asian mental health. Afterwards, an excerpt from my script was also used as an icebreaker in a CAPE x Center for Scholars & Storytellers think tank on how to authentically portray mental health in media. At the think tank, CAPE Executive Director Michelle Sugihara, congratulated me on my work and I was given invaluable feedback from scholars and storytellers alike on how to improve the script. Fast forward several months later and Iridescence is now making the rounds in the film festival circuit, where it’s placed as a Semifinalist in the Los Angeles Chinese Film Festival and a Finalist for the Independent Shorts Awards among several other accolades. It also has been spotlighted by the Daily Bruin and reviewed by a disability led non-profit organization that I hold near and dear to my heart, RespectAbility.
Breaking Stigma Through Conversation
While winning awards is a cool experience, I view it as secondary to my primary goal with the film which is to destigmatize mental health in the AAPI community. With that, I made sure to create a podcast to accompany the film where I interviewed the cast and crew regarding important taboo topics such as growing up as a minority, mental health allyship, understanding the love languages and cultural differences of our parents, and storytelling as a mechanism for change. I’ve had members of the cast and crew open up to me about how working on the project made them more willing to have those tough conversations with their family and friends, which has been indescribably fulfilling to me.
The Power of Authentic Storytelling
With a cast and crew largely consisting of women and the AAPI community, the film embodies the type of stories I want to tell. Being that the script is based on my own family, I did a table read with them. While my brother and mom were quick to congratulate me, my dad was silent. However, similar to the theme of the film itself, he sent me a long text afterwards, confiding in me that although he never was the type to say “I love you”–he really does. That moment of catharsis is the power of storytelling. As a DEIA advocate, I view authentic storytelling as a moral responsibility. It’s so important to do the research and consult with organizations with your stories because they have real world ramifications on the culture and society. Moving forward, I want to tell authentic stories that bridge the divide in our world and help us see each other not as archetypes, but as human beings. And organizations like the Center for Scholars & Storytellers as well as the Coalition of Asian Pacifics in Entertainment equip me with the resources and skills to do just that.
Jeremy Hsing
Writer/Director, Former CSS Intern
Nuance Needed in Adolescent Mental Health Stories
Even before the pandemic, mental health challenges were the leading cause of poor life outcomes for youth.
Though the COVID-19 pandemic has impacted the mental health of adolescents in ways we are just beginning to understand, it’s also been a boon to our collective awareness of an issue that existed long before “social distancing” became a fixture in the national lexicon. Adolescence is a developmental period when many mental health problems like depression and substance use begin to emerge – and social and environmental factors can compound these issues. Even before the pandemic, mental health challenges were the leading cause of poor life outcomes for youth. In the 10 years before 2019, the number of high school students reporting persistent sadness or hopelessness had increased by 40% to more than 1 in 3 students. The pandemic has only magnified these pre-existing challenges with shuttered schools, social isolation, and compounded financial and psychological strain on families.
As the pandemic continues, general awareness of the importance of adolescent mental health has increased considerably. But awareness of a problem doesn’t automatically lead to sensitive storytelling. The backlash toward the television show 13 Reasons Why from media critics, educators, and parents points to the difficulties writers face when tackling mental health crises and suicide in adolescents. Graphic, sensationalized content about teen mental health often walks a thin line between relatability and exploitation.
When done right, though, fictional stories may lead to positive outcomes by reducing stigma and normalizing conversations about mental health. This was even the case with the controversial 13 Reasons Why, as research by the Center for Scholars and Storytellers found adolescent viewers were more likely to seek information about issues depicted in the show and have conversations with friends and parents about the topics. Nuanced portrayals of adolescents struggling with mental health and even suicide can be compelling and supportive of healthy development. Here are some recommendations for how to use our research in your stories about mental health:
Strive toward trauma-informed content. This means telling stories in ways that are sensitive - rather than sensationalizing - and empowering towards characters who are experiencing trauma. In the 2012 film The Perks of Being a Wallflower, we see the main character Charlie learn to cope with PTSD from sexual abuse through an evolution of methods – from friendships, to self-medication with drugs and alcohol, and finally to inpatient treatment. The Perks of Being a Wallflower reflects what we know about resilience in adolescence while telling a beautiful (and critically acclaimed) coming of age story.
Model resilience by balancing bleakness with hope. Experts suggest that talking openly about suicide can sometimes serve as a protective factor among adolescents, and CSS’s research reinforces this finding. The 2010 film It’s Kind of a Funny Story does an effective - and affecting - job of this. The main character Craig has the self-awareness to recognize when “normal” stress responses to external pressures become unhealthy, leading him to seek help for what has become full-fledged depression. It’s important to show viewers what supportive environments and relationships look like so that young people know these resources are available.
Move beyond “bootstraps” and “individual savior” storylines. Supporting adolescent mental health is not a one-person job or a matter of self-agency as many false narratives would have us believe. In reality, creating the kinds of deep and complex connections needed is a community-wide undertaking. Think about including not just families, but also schools, community-based organizations, and the healthcare system in supporting roles.
Finding an authentic balance in stories about adolescence and mental health can be difficult. But these narratives also have the potential to accurately and inspiringly show audiences what adolescent development looks like – and how we can support young people who are struggling, together.
Freelancer
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
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