Sunday, October 25, 2020

Another great book that I think is important to read and discuss is Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability, and Making Space by Amanda Leduc. Leduc, who has Cerebral palsy, brings her disability justice lens into her analysis of childhood stories. This author quite intelligently lays out several problematic themes that are hidden beneath the surface of these fairy tales. After reading this amazing piece of writing, I have a completely different perspective of the tales I grew up knowing and loving.

First, Leduc notes that fairy tales, for the most part, follow norms of white, heteronormative, and ableist society. Besides the obvious fact that these children’s stories usually center a male-identified prince and a female-identified princess who are in love with each other, there are numerous other ways that fairy tales exclude kids from marginalized communities. I don’t think there is an inherent problem with portrayals of heteronormative, white characters, but when that is all we see, we are not giving children of color the opportunity to see themselves reflected in popular media.

With all the books, dolls, dress up costumes, movies, tea party sets, and other paraphernalia Disney has created based on its princesses, it’s shameful that Tiana is the only Black princess (who spends most of the movie in the embodiment of a frog); there are no Disney princesses that are Latinx or South Asian. Looking at the Walt Disney Studios’ creative decisions even closer, there is so much more evidence that they operated under white supremacy. Behind all the magic and innocence of Cinderella’s fairy godmother and Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather, from Sleeping Beauty, was Disney’s choice to exclude characters of color and those with disabilities. Even in the more modern Toy Story movies, both of the main characters, Woody and Buzz Lightyear, are white. By mostly centering white characters, the Disney studio is sending a message to children that only white stories matter. This world-famous company needs to diversify its characters and plotlines, so that children of all backgrounds can recognize themselves in the content they consume.

Leduc, also points out that several fairy tales tend to align with the medical model of disability. Interestingly, Leduc views Cinderella’s fairy godmother transforming her clothes from that of a lowly scullery maid to that of beautiful princess as a metaphor for those who want to transform people with disabilities into what they consider “normal.” Likewise, the beast from Beauty and the Beast physically changes after receiving the affection of the person he loves. It begs the question why the beast finding happiness physically changes him, why is being “fixed” somehow a great reward for doing morally right? 

Another fascinating fact explored in the book is that only villains, such as Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty and Ursula from The Little Mermaid, can stray from society’s ideal of beauty. Only having villains be fat or differently formed says to children that being different is somehow inherently wrong. Why can’t Disney princesses be fat or disabled or old or scarred in any way? Disney princesses and other good characters should not be pigeonholed into this idea that beauty has to mean an able-bodied, cis, heterosexual, white woman. Human diversity is beautiful and needs to be more represented in the morally upright, not just evil.