Perhaps this unnatural lack of (dis)abled participants speaks to the true, commercial nature of the genre of reality television.
Dr. Phil, named after the now infamous Dr. Phil McGraw, is a daily talk show that airs in the United States on every week day. Dr. Phil and his guests/patients discuss problems that may exist in their lives. In their study, “Dr. Phil, Medical Theaters, Freak Shows, and Talking Couches: The Talking Stage as Pedagogical Site,” Eisenhauer and Richardson (2014) explore one episode in particular, “Extreme Highs and Lows,” which aired on March 7, 2006. Within this context, they divulge that “talk shows have been labeled contemporary freak shows in both academic and popular contexts” (Eisenhauer & Richardson, 2014, p. 67). During this hour of cable television, Dr. Phil interviews two special guests (a.k.a patients) Cathy and Fred, both of whom have bipolar disorder. With careful editing, repetitive use of stigmatizing language such as “psycho” and “freak,” and the introduction of controversial themes and discussion points, Dr. Phil perpetuates the hegemony of “normalcy” I introduced in my previous blog post, “What You Talkin’ Bout Willis” — (Dis)covering the (Dis)Course of (Dis)ability, and “reiterates and tacitly affirms many stereotypical perceptions already held by the non disabled viewer and internalized by the disabled viewer” (Eisenhauer & Richardson, p. 75). Moreover, the almost clinical style of the show makes the very personal act of visiting a therapist very public.
Animated - 8.6%
The Simpsons
The Simpsons is now the longest running, scripted television show in history, which is no surprise judging by its huge fan base. I must admit that I had never watched an entire episode of the show before reading Moritz Fink’s (2013) study entitled “People Who Look Like Things: Representations of Disability in The Simpsons.” I’m afraid that I just didn’t get the comedic appeal of the show; I was put off by it, so to speak. Ironically, as Fink elaborates with his theory of distanciation in regards to the offensive humor, I, as a viewer was not meant to (p. 256). A huge part of The Simpsons’ humor lies in its deconstruction of traditional stereotypes or cliches. Essentially, the program is a commentary on our entire neoliberalist society and urges the audience to “engage with questions of political correctness” (Fink). Models of this deconstruction often come in the form of disabled characters such as Herman Hermann (an amputee who is seen as an Captain Ahab-like character and portrayed as "paranoid" and "insane"), Robert Terwilliger, also known as Sideshow Bob (a character with wild hair and oversized feet who is intent on killing Homer), and even Homer Simpson himself, one of the main characters of the show who, at one time, attempts to pass for (dis)abled by becoming the morbidly obese character of King-Size Homer. Fink elaborates that these inclusions of (dis)abilities are “an opportunity to take advantage of the possibilities offered by the animated form” and “a motive for setting up [an] episode’s narrative” (p. 263).
While I find the critical allowance the creators of the The Simpsons give their audience avant-garde and contemplate if episodes could be used in classrooms to teach issues of social justice, I wonder if these “motives” and “opportunities” are the best way for (dis)abilities to be seen on a television screen (Fink, p. 263)?
Life Goes On
Airing from 1989 to 1993, Life Goes On was the first dramatic television series in the United States to feature an actor with Down Syndrome in a leading role. Additionally, it was the first show to introduce a recurring teenage character who was HIV-positive. Acknowledging these facts, I have to ask myself, “How have I never heard about this show before now?!” Perhaps it was before the time I can cognitively remember television or maybe I was sheltered from controversial programming like and including Life Goes On as a child. No matter the reason for my past ignorance, I presently find its connections to important societal issues extremely revolutionary. To explain its radical, at the time (and, in some circles, for the present) subject matter, I refer to “Cripping Safe Sex: Life Goes On’s Queer/Disabled Alliance” (2012) written by Julie Passanante Elman. In the piece Elman reveals that:
I find it wholly encouraging to learn that actors with Down Syndrome do find acting roles like Corky from Life Goes On. Personally, I have watched others like Nan from American Horror Story and Becky Jackson from Glee, but it is important to note that these characters are different from Corky. Nan and Becky most often serve the purpose of teaching the main characters lessons about (dis)ability, compassion, or acceptance. When will another show, like Life Goes On, exist that features a (dis)abled character that simply exists alongside his or her non (dis)abled characters counterparts?
The Big Bang Theory & Community
The Big Bang Theory and Community are two of my all-time favorite shows, but, when I think about these shows, my mind does not immediately jump to (dis)ability. I think of the laugh inducing plot lines and endearing characters. Therefore, I ask myself, “Is this a good or a bad thing?”
To answer my question, I turn to Shannon Walters, a (dis)ability studies scholar from Temple University, who writes that ““Getting the joke” about disability is not as simple as it seems, especially when certain terms or figures are used. Meaning is extremely flexible and even contradictory in humor” (2013, p. 272). I believe what Walter means is that instead of realizing that a joke was made using or at the expense of someone’s (dis)ability, I took the joke to mean something else entirely. It’s all about perception when interpreting comedy in television programming.
Unfortunately, one of these characters, Sheldon, also has a tendency to “problematize cognitive difference in unproductive ways” (Walters, 2013, p. 277). To explain, Sheldon has a PhD is physics, while many students with autism struggle daily in school. He presents the “ideal way of being different” (Walter, p. 277). This proves that, while productive in many ways, even the seemingly best characters have their faults.
With characters like Abed, Sheldon, and Corky, existing in the homes of millions of Americans weekly by means of television viewing, is it safe to say that our society is changing for the better, in regards to featuring (dis)ability characters in television? I would have to say yes… and no. As I have detailed in my two previous blog posts, (Dis)ability on Demand, Parts One and Two, there exists and balance of both true, positive portrayals and negative, stereotypical ones. Additionally, a majority of these portrayals (even the positive characters, such as Abed) are still played by non (dis)abled actors while (dis)abled actors could easily perform the part.
While it can be disheartening to constantly unearth and analyze these inequalities, I have found, through this literature review, that there are ways that we, as an audience and also educators can help change this inequality. In my next blog post, I will illustrate some of these actions.
Eisenhauer, J. & Richardson, J. (2014). Dr. Phil, medical theaters, freak shows, and talking couches: The talking stage as pedagogical site. Journal of Literacy & Cultural Disability Studies, (8)1. 67-80.
Elman, J. P. (2012). Cripping safe sex: Life Goes On's queer/disabled alliances. Bioethical Inquiry (2012)9. 317-326.
Fink, M. (2013). "People who look like things": Representations of disabilities in The Simpsons. Journal of Literary & Cultural Studies, 7.3(2013), 255-270.
Kidd, D. (2013). Disability Demographics by TV Genre [chart]. Retrieved from Pop Culture Freaks
Kidd, D. (2013). Disability Demographics by TV Genre [chart]. Retrieved from Pop Culture Freaks
Walters, S. (2013). Cool Aspie Humor. Journal Of Literary & Cultural Disability Studies, 7(3), 271-288.
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