Have you ever felt your attitude or feelings about disability changed or influenced by a disabled character on a TV show? If not changed, do you feel more strongly drawn to any disabled TV characters because of your family experience with disability? Has your child ever identified more strongly with a TV character because he or she has a disability?
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Weekly Wrap-Up
Monday, December 30, 2013
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Thursday, January 2, 2014
Friday, January 3, 2014
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Disability On Downton Abbey
For American fans, Season 4 of Downton Abbey starts tonight.
I thoroughly enjoy the series. I’m a fan. That said, its a very uneven show, with some great story lines, characters, and moments … and some ridiculous plots, inconsistent characters, and botched scenes. Even the show’s greatest strengths, its historical depictions, fall short as often as they succeed.
One thing that surprised me when I started watching "Downton Abbey" was how often disability plays a part in the story. Like everything else on the show, the quality of these disability depictions varies wildly, between original insight, and weak, tired cliches. In honor of tonight’s premiere, here’s a rundown of the disability depictions and themes we’ve seen so far … spoilers ahead:
Mr. Bates, Lord Grantham’s valet, who walks with a pronounced limp, from wounds acquired in the Boer War. Some of the other staff’s rejection of the “crippled servant” was arguably the first, and longest-lasting conflict in the whole series. It didn’t actually cause Thomas and O’Brien to hate Mr. Bates. They hated him because he took a job that Thomas wanted. But, they evidently believed that his disability was a more acceptable reason to oppose him than simple envy. Apparently, disability prejudice is a more honorable motive than professional resentment.
At first, almost nobody … upstairs or downstairs … could conceive of how Bates would do his job with a limp, though the “good guys” on the show were quickly won over by Bates’ decency and character. Also, in one of the earlier episodes of the first season, Bates tried to “fix” his limp with a local craftsman’s horrible design for a limp-correcting brace. The device nearly tore his leg to bloody shreds until the head housekeeper, Mrs. Hughes, confronted him and got him to chuck the thing into the lake, resolving to be himself from there on out. So far, that’s the last we’ve heard of Bates’ limp as a relevant plot point. In a sense, his disability stopped being important when he decided to stop trying to fix it … something I think lots of disabled people can relate to in real life.
At first, almost nobody … upstairs or downstairs … could conceive of how Bates would do his job with a limp, though the “good guys” on the show were quickly won over by Bates’ decency and character. Also, in one of the earlier episodes of the first season, Bates tried to “fix” his limp with a local craftsman’s horrible design for a limp-correcting brace. The device nearly tore his leg to bloody shreds until the head housekeeper, Mrs. Hughes, confronted him and got him to chuck the thing into the lake, resolving to be himself from there on out. So far, that’s the last we’ve heard of Bates’ limp as a relevant plot point. In a sense, his disability stopped being important when he decided to stop trying to fix it … something I think lots of disabled people can relate to in real life.
Thomas Barrow, the footman, who literally “got himself shot in the hand” so he would be shipped home from the horror of the trenches in the First World War. His wound hasn’t played much of a role since, but it hasn’t gone away, either. It makes one wonder ... If a limp was such a barrier for Bates as a valet, wouldn't a shattered hand get in the way, too? If so, we never saw a sign of it.
Matthew Crawley, Lord Grantham’s cousin and heir, who was paralyzed from the waist down in the First World War, but who recovered, because his spinal cord was only bruised, not severed. This was both the most consequential, and unfortunately the most cliched disability story in the series so far. Matthew’s paralysis was important in several distinct ways:
- The most obvious issue was that for a time, Matthew faced a future in which he would never walk again. This was equated with needing unspecified, broadly-defined care for life … care that his fiancée Livinia Swire would have to provide, presumably making her life miserable. This ennobled Livinia in comparison to Matthew’s real love, Lady Mary, so that later on when thinking about which woman he should marry, Matthew at first resolved to stay with Livinia, since she had been willing sacrifice herself to care for him. The possibility that a life with Matthew in a wheelchair might be satisfying for Livinia was never seriously considered. The choice was completely black and white ... abandon Matthew and be happy, or do the "honorable thing", take care of Matthew, and waste her life away.
- On top of the “lifetime burden” theme, there was the sexual sacrifice that’s been a part of so many paralysis stories in movies and TV. Matthew wouldn’t be able to have sex, which, in those late Edwardian times, meant that Livinia would never have sex either, another sacrifice she would make for Matthew.
- Matthew’s miraculous cure functioned as miracles often do in stories, yet it seems like writer Julian Fellows went out of his way a little to underscore that it wasn’t actually miraculous. He had simply been misdiagnosed, and was always going to recover. This made the abrupt end to the paralysis story a bit less annoying, but only a bit less.
- I posted back in November about what I think is the most interesting disability-related line in the series so far. Lady Mary is pushing Matthew around the Downton grounds in his wheelchair:
Matthew: “I’m strong enough to push myself.”Mary: “I’ll be the judge of that.”
I still think this brief exchange is a very realistic and crystal clear example of how ableism often works in real life. One of the defining characteristics of disabled people, especially as depicted in literature and entertainment, is that we don’t understand our disabilities, and need non-disabled people to keep us grounded and safe.
Sir Anthony Strallan, older neighbor and friend to the family, onetime fiancé of Lady Edith, had a rather vague arm injury from his service in the war. This was only brought up to add to the notion that Lady Edith would be making too great a sacrifice in marrying such and old, crippled man. The logic here was so non-specific and weak, that it really didn’t work. Strallan never appeared to be noticeably impaired by his injury … nor did he ever really look like an old geezer, either. When Strallan left Edith at the altar because of his own guilt feelings about the young woman sacrificing herself for a broken down old man, it’s hard to tell if we were supposed to see this argument as valid, or … as it appeared to me … utterly misplaced. The whole storyline seemed weak, based on premises about age and disability that just never seemed applicable in this specific case.
There have been two other short-term characters whose disabilities partly defined their roles in the story:
Lieutenant Edward Courtenay, the blinded British officer befriended by Thomas and Lady Sybil while working in the cottage hospital, who killed himself when told he would have to leave them and go to another hospital. There had been scenes of Thomas and Sybil helping Courtenay learn mobility with a cane, supposedly establishing the idea that only these two could get the Lieutenant to push past his depression and work on his rehabilitation, even though he was to be moved to a fully qualified rehabilitation hospital. His suicide was used as the clinching argument for turning the Downton Abbey house into a recuperation center for non-acute wounded soldiers. Earlier, Thomas and Courtenay had bonded over both feeling like outsiders … Courtenay because his brother was going to take over his place in the family business, and Thomas, more covertly, because he is gay.
and …
Major Patrick Gordon, the Canadian officer with severe facial wounds who wound up at the Downton Abbey recuperation hospital, and claimed to be the estate’s long-lost heir, thought to have drowned on the Titanic in 1912.
Have I missed anyone?
Yes! I forgot Henry Lang, short-term valet to Lord Grantham, who had "shellshock" or PTSD. Sarah O'Brien, one of the show's most authentic villains, was the only person who really befriended him, because her brother had suffered in a similar way from his war service. Plus, Mrs. Patmore, the head cook, almost went blind from cataracts, though this was a very brief plot point resolved when the Granthams paid for eye surgery.
So, is this a lot of disability for one series? Or, do other shows depict disability this much ... maybe more than we notice?
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Advice
Via bunnika’s blog, at xojane, Selene Luna advises on How Not To Be A Dick To A Little Person.
President Bartlett Has MS
The MS storyline paid some great dividends throughout the series, and included some fairly positive representations of disability. Nothing too radical, with a few conventional cliches mixed in from time to time, but more good than bad.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Photo Of The Day ... Wheelchair Bound
"A satirical look at the phrase "wheelchair bound", courtesy of wheelchair-user Nic Steenhout. Disabled people find the use of "wheelchair bound" inaccurate and offensive. Use it? better to loose it."
This is the best "wheelchair bound" photo I've ever seen. I'm amazed there aren't more like it floating around the Internet.
* I should have given clearer credit to Nicolas Steenhout (@vavroom), who is in the photo and blogged about it, and to Lynn Pope (@elpie), who took the picture. Sorry about that!
* I should have given clearer credit to Nicolas Steenhout (@vavroom), who is in the photo and blogged about it, and to Lynn Pope (@elpie), who took the picture. Sorry about that!
Thursday, January 2, 2014
More Shit People Say ...
This AmputeeOT video is similar to the “shit academics say about access” video I posted last Saturday.
I feel like a lot of non-disabled people … and quite a few disabled people, too … disapprove of this kind of thing. It’s ill-tempered and bitter. It’s mean to make fun of or get mad at well-meaning people who just don’t know what to say or how to say it. We should be patient with people who don’t know everything about disabilities. We should be good ambassadors, and educate people.
Yes, obviously, people saying we’re inspirational is a *good* thing. We do get that. And people asking sometimes stupid questions doesn’t mean they are stupid or massively ignorant. We do get that, too. But, we hear these exact things so often, in exactly the same situations, using exactly the same words, that once in awhile we have to vent about it a little. Really, 99% of the time we don’t say anything at all. We play by the rules and, if we’re really brave and have a lot of tolerance on a good day, we try to teach people a little bit, refine their understanding. Just a little bit mind you, because the only thing more sensitive to criticism than a disabled person is a non-disabled person who’s said something stupid about disabilities.
And no, it’s not all in our heads. We’re not imagining the ableism we hear. If someone came up to you and gave you a completely out of the blue, out of context compliment … well, the first time it might make your day. But by the fifth or tenth time, I promise you, you’d say to yourself, “What the hell?” There’s something going on here besides simple kindness.
I submit that under the circumstances, poking a little fun at the “shit people say” about disabilities is the least harmful, most productive response we can make.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Blogging Note: Looking Back, Looking Ahead
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Monday, December 30, 2013
“American Girl” Petition … Followup
Yesterday, I posted the video from Melissa Shang, asking people to sign a petition urging “American Girl” to add a doll with a disability to its collection. Today I read a fantastic article that has a lot more to say about this:
Emily Ladau, Words I Wheel By - December 30, 2013
The only dolls I ever had were a teddy bear and, briefly, a GI Joe. So, all I really know about dolls is what I’ve picked up drifting around the popular culture atmosphere. Emily’s article beautifully underscores why creating a disabled “American Girl” doll would be so great, and why it matters how they do it, if they do it.
Disability In India
Monica Sarkar, CNN - December 27, 2013
I’m honestly not sure whether this article accurately describes how disability is perceived in India, or whether it’s a mix of a few individual Indian’s viewpoints and westerner’s interpretation of Indian belief. I am struck by how similar the ideas presented are to American views of disability. Our ideas a bit fuzzier and softened by careful language. We don’t believe in Karma quite as literally. But we do still make judgements about people with various disabilities. We do choose some disabled people for praise, and ignore others. And we do sometimes forget that money and prior social status can make life with a disability much easier to negotiate, even if it’s never quite easy, and acceptance is rarely complete.
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