The Case for Authentic Disability Representation in Media and Why Our Society Desperately Needs It
HIGHLIGHTS
• More than 95% of all characters with disabilities seen on television are played by non-disabled actors.
• Media can make a difference by helping to normalize disability and expose people, disabled and able bodies alike, to disabled characters they can admire and relate to.
• Hollywood is leaving approximately $125 billion annually on the table by not having authentic and accurate disability representation.
Our society is currently buzzing with diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) movements. From the classroom to corporate board rooms, and all over social media, you can find people of all ages discussing things like how to be anti-racist or how to properly use gender pronouns. While these are all vastly important conversations to have, the largest marginalized group in the world is consistently left out of this conversation: the disabled population. All of these DEI efforts are vital as we strive to continue learning and growing to make our world a more loving place, but we will never succeed if we’re ignoring the world's largest marginalized community.
The media mirrors this societal oversight — disability representation lags far behind every other marginalized group. In the U.S. today, one in four people (26 percent) have a disability and yet only 3.1 percent of characters on-screen are disabled. In children’s television representation is even worse - less than one percent.
With over a quarter of our population identifying as disabled, recent market research found that Hollywood is leaving billions of dollars on the table. That is a striking number, but not what’s most concerning. Media tends to reflect our society’s values so more importantly, above everything -- the lack of visibility all around is killing disabled people. Let’s explore why.
As children, we observe the world around us in order to make meaning of our own lives, identities, and experiences. When we see people we can relate to and look up to, it helps us create a sense of self. However, when we don’t see anyone similar around us we can relate to, we turn to movies and television to fill that role. When we see positive portrayals of characters we connect with, it can positively impact our mental health. My younger brother, who has Cerebral Palsy, had virtually no positive portrayals in media. No characters that looked like, talked like, or processed the world like him. Not only did that impact my brother’s sense of self, I realized the lack of representation in media impacted the way non-disabled people interacted with my brother and those like him.
We often fear what we don’t understand, and some disabilities may look or sound startling if you’ve never seen it before. This is where media has an opportunity to be largely impactful by creating exposure and understanding through authentic representation. Media can make a difference by helping to normalize disability and expose people, disabled and able bodies alike, to disabled characters they can admire and relate to. I witnessed this lack of exposure first hand with my brother, and his physical differences due to his Cerebral Palsy. People stared, but it wasn’t their fault; they had never been exposed to people with bodies that were built and functioned atypically. My brother uses a walker as a mobility aid, but often still falls down due to weakness in his leg muscles. Sometimes he’d knock things over in public on his way down, which made my family a spectacle. When we were younger I tried to hide my embarrassment, pushing my emotions aside, pretending it was no big deal. But I desperately wished others could see my brother as I did: just a kid with some extra challenges.
This lack of exposure and understanding has been seen throughout history, perpetuating more misunderstanding and stigma around the disabled population. Historically, disabled people have been killed, sent away, hidden from the public, or socially pressured to hide their disabilities if possible. This is why it’s vital that we include characters with disabilities in media, especially children’s media -- so we can normalize all types of bodies and neurodiversity. Studies have shown that kids who are exposed to diverse types of people at a young age grow up to be less discriminatory and more accepting individuals. If kids and adults could get to know and interact with more disabled people, whether in real life or on screen, seeing my brother wouldn’t be such an event to stare at.
COVID-19 pandemic emphasized society’s “ableist” values
A larger reason we must strive for more disabled representation is because authentic representation can actually shift societal cultural values. Our society needs to start valuing the lives of disabled people. In the beginnings of the COVID-19 pandemic, many disabled people in group homes were essentially triaged as less important lives to save and they and their staff didn’t receive access to essential COVID-19 precautions and resources. This resulted in an astounding death toll for this group. In New York, one study found people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, who were living in group homes with roommates and care staff, were dying at nearly 8 times the rate. In England, one article reported 60 percent of the deaths from COVID-19 in 2020 were disabled individuals and many of these deaths were preventable. Yet, mainstream media has not been covering this. The lack of news coverage is telling, and reflects our society’s ableism at its finest - the idea that non-disabled lives are more important than disabled ones.
Unfortunately, this is just one blaring example of ableism that directly resulted in a devastating number of disabled deaths. People with intellectual and developmental disabilities overall tend to have a higher mortality rate. In some cases there may be other health factors related to their condition that makes their lifespan shorter. However, in many cases it’s a lack of access to and receiving proper and effective healthcare that is the true barrier. Disabled people are dying unnecessarily, period. This can only change when our society as a whole starts valuing disabled lives - but first they must see ableism as a problem. One way we fight ableism? All together now! More accurate and authentic portrayals in the media.
Disability as a prop or “inspiration porn” in media
In 2020, CSS released a report on the importance of authentically inclusive representation in regards to diverse identities, with a special focus on race. One way to ensure authentic representation is by breaking harmful group stereotypes - for example in the case of race, not only showing Asians as quiet and nerdy, or Black women as sexualized and dominant. In the same way we must also be mindful with our portrayals of disability and what it means to be authentic. Oftentimes if disabled people are visible on screen at all, they are depicted as unintelligent (or off-puttingly intelligent), as a burden, or simply a prop to progress the story along. The character is reduced to one aspect of their identity, their disability. Often a main, non-disabled character is motivated by or learns a lesson thanks to this disabled side character. When portrayals are limited to this and people are diminished to just their disability, we as a society expect them to be merely a side character in our world which leads to more discrimination and exclusion.
While often well-intended, there is another problematic trope of these generic and cliché portrayals of disabled people. The main character, typically an able-bodied person, often helps or “saves” a disabled person, or even uses the struggles and triumphs of a disabled character to inspire others. This surface-level touching story is commonly referred to as “inspiration porn.” This can be tricky because good intent unfortunately reduces the disabled character to being objectified only to inspire others, rather than celebrating and spotlighting the disabled person as just a person. This instead promotes the message that disabled people should be pitied or need help rather than celebrating them for the intricate humans they are and what they have to give to the world.
In this way, the media we consume has the power to create negative biases towards disabled individuals unintentionally. However, we also know that when thoughtfully portrayed, narrative stories have the power to dismantle biases and shift our culture to be a more inclusive society. Researchers studied this phenomenon by comparing internalized racial bias to LGBTQ+ biases during the Obama years. You might think having a Black president would shift our internalized racism, however the levels of bias didn’t change over the eight years. Yet, during those same years, LGBTQ+ biases dropped significantly which researchers attribute to popular media and television shows that were LGBTQ+ inclusive, like Glee. So how can we do this with disability?
Getting it right: include disabled individuals
There’s a common saying amongst the disabled community: nothing about us without us. In the context of storytelling, this speaks directly to the idea that if the story features a disabled character, there should be people involved both behind and in front of the camera who can directly relate to the character. We have a lot of room for growth, as more than 95 percent of all characters with disabilities seen on television are played by non-disabled actors. However, there are a few recent shows that have made waves in authentic disability representation. Shows like Speechless, Special, and Everything’s Going to be Okay intentionally and authentically portray disability by actually hiring creators and actors who are disabled. The lead characters in Speechless and Special have Cerebral Palsy, as do the actors who portrayed them. In Everything’s Going to be Okay, one of the lead characters is Autistic and the actress who plays her has Autism Spectrum Disorder. These shows also had creators behind the camera who had direct experiences with the disabilities portrayed in the show and the combination of having actors and creators with lived experiences made these shows stand out and recognized for their work.
But let’s talk business.
So why should a behemoth industry like Hollywood care? For one, research shows that disability-inclusive workplaces significantly increase revenue, profit margins, and employee productivity. Inclusive or universal design, is the concept that when things are designed for people with permanent disabilities, everyone in society benefits. It’s sometimes referred to as the “curb-cut effect” as a curb-cut was designed for wheel-chair users, but people pushing strollers, or people riding bikes, or a film crew unloading equipment, also benefit. At the end of the day, Hollywood is a business, so to speak to that angle - in 2019 the Ruderman Family Foundation found that Hollywood is leaving approximately $125 billion dollars annually on the table by not having authentic and accurate disability representation. Talk about missed opportunities!
Imagining an inclusive world
All in all, it’s time we start recognizing and celebrating people with disabilities as a valuable part of our society because disability impacts ALL of us. Disability is the only minority group anyone can join at any time. Take a moment to let that sink in. Disability is the only minority group anyone can join at any time. In the UK they found that eighty percent of the disabled population were not born with a disability. That means that experiencing disability personally or through a loved one very likely will be a part of your life if it isn’t already. This is a universal experience that pervades race, sexuality, and socioeconomic status, so it’s time we start talking about it and representing it as so. Let’s use the power of media and storytelling to foster connection and belonging, to uplift others, and truly create a more inclusive world. Hire disabled people and let them tell their stories. My dream is to see a world where diversity is truly celebrated and embraced, and this includes disability. As we all know “with great power comes great responsibility,” so Hollywood - it’s time to walk the walk and step up to the responsibility of the power you have, to truly make our world a better place. I want to look around and see films and series’ that show people like my brother having a life filled with purpose, connection, mishaps, friendships and love. Because even though the challenges may look different on the outside, we can all relate to the pains and joys of what it means to be human.
How to Diversify Autism Representation in the Media and Why Intersectionality Matters
HIGHLIGHTS
• Autism is a complex spectrum that includes a variety of symptoms, and no two autistic individuals exhibit the same ones.
• White children are 110% more likely to be identified with autism than Black children and 120% more likely than Hispanic children.
• Transgender and gender-diverse individuals experience higher rates of autism in comparison to their cisgender counterparts.
Growing up as an autistic individual has been difficult for many reasons, most of which stem from my interactions with other people. One memorable instance occurred during a speech therapy session I had in middle school. Although I was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) at the age of 2 and had numerous records indicating so, my then-speech therapist insisted that there was no way I could be autistic. Why? Because I did well in school. This was not an isolated incident though: to this day, I find that many people, including professionals, are surprisingly ignorant about autistic people who deviate from the typical white male savant. I, for instance, am a woman who isn’t a savant and was able to make friends and find love.
Unfortunately, autistic people like me are not represented often in the media, where many people develop their understanding of the autistic experience. While most autistic characters are portrayed as white male geniuses (like Rain Man and The Good Doctor), the fact is, autism is exponentially more complex and diverse than what we see on-screen.
In fact, a study done in 2018 on media portrayals of ASD found that around 46% of the autistic characters on-screen had savant abilities, yet only 10% of autistic people possess these skills in real life. In reality, autism is a complex spectrum that includes a variety of symptoms, and no two autistic individuals exhibit the same ones. Further, the autistic narrative excludes many important aspects of life, such as experiences with dating and romance. Perhaps most disappointing, though, is the sheer lack of intersectionality with media representations of ASD, especially with regard to gender and race.
Connections with Gender and Sexuality
Autism affects individuals of all genders and sexualities, yet most media portrayals reinforce the aforementioned stereotypes. In an article highlighting the experiences women have with ASD, it was noted that women are expected to act “normal” while living with ASD. For instance, young women are expected to complete their studies, behave like their neurotypical peers, and pick up social cues all without supplemental aid. This can lead them to camouflage behaviors (i.e., mimic neurotypical individuals to act “normal”), ultimately delaying the proper diagnosis and treatment they need. While their male counterparts quickly receive assistance and ASD identification, women feel out of place due to society providing cis men a space to “act out”, allowing neurodirvergence to be seen rather than ignored. Furthermore, one 2020 study found that transgender and gender-diverse individuals experience higher rates of autism in comparison to their cisgender counterparts. Although there are many women and LGBTQ+ individuals on the autistic spectrum, in the rare instances where autistic relationships appear on-screen, they are almost always shown from the male, heterosexual perspective.
Fortunately, there have been recent increases in shows and movies about autism’s intersection with gender and sexuality. Atypical explores an autistic boy’s difficulties with dating and coming of age, and Love on the Spectrum includes queer representation. Everything’s Gonna Be Okay includes one female character navigating her experiences with ASD and the dating world, a role played by an actor who actually has ASD, Kayla Cromer. However, these few stories cannot capture everyone’s experiences with ASD. While Atypical discusses how to navigate romance, it once again follows the narrative of a white, cisgender, male character. Similarly, Love on the Spectrum and Everything’s Gonna Be Okay mainly consisted of a white, cisgender cast. So, while the media continues to include more women and LGBTQ+ people with autism, there must also be a push for more nuanced representations with race.
Connections with Race
According to a 2018 community report on autism, white children are 110% more likely to be identified with autism than Black children and 120% more likely than Hispanic children. Many factors influence this occurrence, such as socioeconomic status and even cultural differences. To protect against discrimination, for example, African American families often emphasize independence and self-reliance in their children; if misinterpreted by family or health care providers, these characteristics could lead to a delayed diagnosis of autism. Furthermore, these diagnostic delays can often stem from healthcare provider bias, which could then lead to doctors misinterpreting symptoms and misdiagnosing patients from underrepresented groups. And due to stigma surrounding disability in some ethnic communities, some families may struggle to reach any diagnosis or may not even accept the presence of autism. As a result, many autistic children of color do not receive the proper treatment and support they need compared to white autistic children. Further, low-income communities of color tend to watch the most TV in the US, making it more likely that these individuals will encounter the redundant portrayal of white autistic characters.
Stories featuring autistic people of color may decrease late diagnosis in these communities by reducing stigma and depicting what autism truly looks like. One great example is Pixar’s short film “Loop,” whose main character is a nonverbal, autistic girl of color. The short has been praised by the ASD community and provides a great foundation for future representations of autistic people of color. Diversifying autism in the media can help eliminate misconceptions that prevent people of color from receiving the proper identification they need.
Conclusion
Increasing autism representation in the media would be invaluable for autistic viewers, especially autistic youth. As you may expect, autistic youth tend to experience more bullying than their neurotypical peers and may face additional bullying for other aspects of their identity such as race and sexuality. It doesn’t help that the media illustrates autistic characters as unappealing or unwanted. By including a wide array of autism representation in the media, autistic youth of all ages, races, genders, and sexualities may feel better represented and understood.
Actionable Insights
Show the diversity within the autistic community by including characters of varying race, gender, socioeconomic status, and sexuality.
Directly involve more autistic people in content creation: cast more individuals on the spectrum, recruit more autistic people behind the scenes, and consult the autistic community often.
Highlight varying issues that different populations have while growing up and living with ASD, like an autistic woman’s struggle with diagnosis or person of color’s experience with cultural stigma around disability.
This article is written from the perspective of:
B.A. Psychology, Research Assistant at Developmental Transitions Laboratory
Co-authors:
CSS Intern
CSS Intern
B.A. Psychology, Research Assistant at Developmental Transitions Laboratory
B.A. Psychology, Research Assistant at Developmental Transitions Laboratory
B.A. Psychology, Research Assistant at Developmental Transitions Laboratory
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.