I’ve written, (at length) about the importance of inclusion, not just because it’s the right thing to do or because it enriches your story, but because we’re all here and we ALL should be represented. Not just men, not just women, not just across ethnicities—but also those who are physiological, neurological, psychologically differently abled. No one is simply a spectator nor even simply a participant. We are the protagonists of our lives, the heroes.
“If horses had gods, they would look like horses.” Xenophanes
What are movies, books, and poetry if not fields for gods? We create other worlds—whether space-opera spectacle or kitchen-sink melodrama—every time we put creative word to medium. And in our world, we can do anything we want. So let’s write BIG damned heroes.
Begin with those you see every day
My old man owned a bar frequented by a LOT of veterans. My uncles, (like my old man) fought in wars. I grew up surrounded by men with prosthetic limbs, missing eyes, and scars, lots of scars. Charles, my first friend in 1st grade, depended on Canadian crutches to ambulate. I have no idea why. It never came up on the playground. Wheelchairs and crutches, aphasia and hearing aids, ADHD and autism were aspects of my schoolmates but not who they are.
But maybe you grew up in a more homogenous community. You can still write inclusion by writing with consideration and understanding. First, let’s look at how-NOT-to.
Note: these are simply the worst offenders. See Margaret Kingsbury’s excellent article here for a thorough discourse.
The villain
Guys in wheelchairs, guys with prosthetics, guys with scars—in short, if she/he has a lazy-eye or hangnail, they’re probably a Bond villain. While Ian Fleming didn’t originate writing the differently abled as villains, he did have the benefit of education and experience which makes his offenses worse. Fleming knew, (as a British intelligence officer who fought the Nazis) that the vilest evil often has an benign continence and a perfect gait.
Why it’s bad: it establishes/reinforces the idea that differently abled and/or people with a disfigurement are inherently bad.
How to fix it: don’t be that writer. Just don’t. The next best-option is equal time. If you’re writing a person who is differently-abled or in some way scared as the villain, you BEST have other, positive examples. But the bottomline, there is simply no valid reason to write a character, good or bad, around a scar or disfigurement.
Magically-different
Matthew Murdoch is one of my favorite characters in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. He’s the product of a deeply dysfunctional family. He’s addicted to violence reaching back to the murder of his father. Matt is also a masked vigilante called Daredevil. It all tracks, it all makes sense. But it wouldn’t be a comic book without a gimmick and Daredevil’s gimmick is that Matt does all the superhero stuff without the ability to see.
As a child, Matt was struck across the eyes with radioactive material (it works best if you don’t ask too many questions). Boom: blind, develops heightened senses, and a radar-like superpower. Somewhere in there he becomes a ninja and, apparently, a lawyer. Easy-breezy, covergirl, am I right?
Why it’s bad: the trope undercuts real challenges and accomplishments like navigating institutional ableism in education, employment, and housing. It also promotes the idea anyone can “talent” their way around real-world obstacles systemic exclusion. Worst of all, it treats a physical impairment like a sideshow act.
The sage
Forrest Gump has a mental impairment. Yet, Westpoint-educated-military officers, iconic musicians, United States Presidents—all benefit from Gump’s wise counsel. See, his cognitive deficiencies give him Aristotelian insight complete with home-spun platitudes. Additionally, he is a millionaire born of catastrophe and “faith-inspiring” luck. The only thing more inspiring, would be Mr. Simpleman MacGyvering an S-corp from two ketchup bottles and an Eggo waffle (to shelter his bootstrap bucks, yo).
Why it’s bad: perpetuates an idea (again) that anyone can achieve (no matter the obstacles) if he/she/they stay “positive” and work hard. The movie and book also make light of how schools, the military, and everyday people on the street exploit those with intellectual impairments. Retired Marine officer and Hollywood military advisor Dale Dye proudly told the cast of Forrest Gump that they could joke all they want but men like Forrest made the best soldiers. Because they followed orders without question. See how low the value is?
How to fix it: seriously, read. Start with the history of the Americans with Disabilities Act which will open your eyes, not only to how difficult life was for the differently-abled prior to the law but also how much remains undone.
Personal peeve from a life-long Texas Gulf Coast resident: if you troll your shrimp boat into a hurricane, good person or bad, you will die a slow/soggy death.
You know it don’t come easy
Detective Comics writers, Kim Yale and John Ostrander saw an opportunity in the backlash to Alan Moore’s horrific graphic novel, The Killing Joke which depicted the Joker (himself a problematic character) shooting Barbara Gordon (Batgirl) through the spine. They reimagined Barbara Gordon as a hero a little closer to home. Instead of swinging from rooftops to fight crime with her fists as Batgirl, Barbara became Oracle, fighting crime from a wheelchair, with a computer.
Then, thirteen years later, DC editors just retconned all the opportunity out of the story and Barbara Gordon’s Batgirl resumed swinging from rooftops, apparently fighting every crime but ableism.
What was the point, again?
For every attempt at positive representation and inclusion, e.g. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, (Christopher is on the spectrum but that is not the story) there is a Rain Man (Ray is autistic and the central gimmick) or worse, six Farelly brothers films, (disability as a punchline).
How-to
While his treatment of the differently abled (e.g. Arya, et al) leaves a lot to be desired, George R.R. Martin’s depiction of Tyrion is a bit better. A man with dwarfism, Tyrion is also highly intelligent and as a result his stature is not the central aspect of his identity. Martin achieves this by employing a key element: foreshadowing. In the first book of his saga, we learn that Tyrion is as voracious a reader as he is a drinker. Martin is also careful to impose limitations. Tyrion is neither infallible nor impervious. He suffers both physical assault and he is outwitted.
In Marvel’s The Eternals, Makkari, (Lauren Ridloff) is hearing impaired. But that is not her story. A member of the superhero group, each with their own distinct ability, Makkari is a speedster. Meaning she can run at several times the speed of sound. She can also generate sonic-booms. And that isn’t even her story, like her hearing impairment, those are facets of her but not her.
Makkari dreams of fulfilling a mission she doesn’t fully understand and returning to a home she has never truly known. She has a puppy-love-sweet flirtation with her teammate, Druig. She is also obsessed with human artifacts, which she collects.
That is the point
The deeper your cast, the wider your world, the richer the story. But you do have a responsibility, just as when you write cultures different from your own, to write honestly and respectfully. Just start there. The National Center on Disability and Journalism, here, can help you approach your characters with respect phrasing and forethought.
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