Well, now that I have your attention, you don’t need to send the kids out of the room. It’s not that kind of porn. Inspiration porn is the use of images or stories of disabled people, sometimes-- but not always children--doing something ordinary. The image is supposed to inspire and move you; maybe it even provokes guilt in you so that you try harder to accomplish some goal. For example, picture a kid in a wheelchair tossing a basketball up and making the basket. You are supposed to be inspired, right? After all, if the kid in a wheelchair can throw a basketball through the hoop, you can try harder to do whatever it is you need motivation to do. The kid in the wheelchair making a basket is such an awe-inspiring thing, isn’t it? Doesn’t it take courage and determination to make that basket from a wheelchair? And, if the disabled kid can be courageous and determined, well, can’t you be? That’s the message of inspiration porn.
It’s a false message, because really, why couldn’t he make a basket? Does being in a wheelchair and attempting the basket make him a hero? Doesn’t he just have to practice and work at it just like able-bodied kids do?
I think that feat just makes him an ordinary kid.
It’s a little unclear where the term inspiration porn originated. It is closely associated with Stella Young a disability advocate. But if she didn’t originate the phrase, she certainly popularized it in a TED talk.
Inspiration porn objectifies people with disabilities. I’m all for celebrating the accomplishments of disabled people just like I’m all in on celebrating the accomplishments of non-disabled people. But that’s the thing – the accomplishment itself is what should be celebrated, not the fact that even a person with a disability can make it happen. And the message given either overtly or subliminally to able-bodied people to just try harder really just uses disabled people as a tool.
You’ve probably seen those news stories that often go viral: A student with Down Syndrome is elected Prom King or Queen. Isn’t that wonderful? Those high school students were really being charitable and kind, weren’t they? But what does that say about the kid with Down Syndrome? Why would anyone want to be depicted as a charity case?
Or those stories, often with accompanying photos, of high school students with disabilities getting their diplomas: Is the expectation that kids in wheelchairs don’t go to high school and get diplomas, so this kid who does needs and deserves our praise and adulation?
Or how about those memes with photos depicting happy, athletic, “typical “looking people in wheelchairs, with those uplifting slogans about hard work and the value of a positive mentality like this one: “The only disability in life is a bad attitude.” These representations of disabled people are meant to be inspirational.
I resent having to be your inspiration.
You might be asking yourself at this point why I have such a problem with this. Isn’t motivation in general a positive thing? What is the harm if people are motivated by a person with a disability? Here is an example of something that happened to me recently: I was getting a manicure, an act in and of itself no great accomplishment since all I had to do was sit on my butt with my hands out in front of me . But then I got caught in a conversation with the woman sitting next to me. She noticed that I relied on my manicurist to pick out my color because I’m blind and also because I don’t particularly care what color my nails are as long as they are not something glittery or too garish. The woman next to me seemed to feel that she could be in on the color selection too. That would have been ok but it went further. The woman started to relate details about herself and mentioned that she had gone sky diving.
What happened next is probably my own fault. I said that sky diving was something I had always wanted to do, too. That’s when my manicurist said to the woman about me, “Isn’t she amazing?”
Now this manicurist doesn’t know me well—I think she has done my nails three times, maybe. For all she knows, I could spend my day sitting at home, watching TV and eating bon bons. Of course, I don’t, but the point is that she saw me as a blind woman whose desire to skydive made her amazing. Now if I actually did get up in a plane and then jump, maybe that would make me amazing. Or possibly stupid. Or maybe dead. But the fact that I am blind will not in any way make me more or less than anyone else—sighted or otherwise--who chooses to actually do this.
When I discussed my feelings on this subject with my sister, she innocently asked, “What’s the harm if (inspiration porn) motivates someone to do more than they thought they could?”
The problem is that so-called “positive” messages of inspiration porn stories, videos, and memes rely on the underlying assumption that disability is automatically tragic and warrants pity. If disability isn’t pitiable, then depictions of brave, cheerful, accomplished disabled people wouldn’t be particularly uplifting. People with disabilities who accomplish things—anything-- wouldn’t be seen as noble, somehow rising above their own limits.
This idea distorts our understanding of what disability really is, in ways that reinforce rather than breakdown negative stereotypes. Furthermore, repeated stories of admirable, charming, high-achieving disabled people tend to create unnecessary pressures on other disabled people to measure up, to behave in prescribed ways. This attitude predetermines what success should look like in a disabled person. If we as disabled people aren’t smiling, happy and being role models, well, then we just aren’t good enough.
I fell into that trap when I first went blind at the age of 35. I was struggling and I thought that if I wasn’t doing everything a sighted person would do in my job, in my mothering and in all my other roles, if I wasn’t happy all the time, well then, I was a failing blind person. I couldn’t just be. I had to be a SuperBlindWoman, a role model for everyone.
Stories of individual courage and perseverance in the face of “hardships” often mask more socially significant issues. These issues are barriers to disabled individuals being able to live meaningful and fulfilled lives such as the lack of accessibility, stigmas and stereotypes.
If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a thousand times (just ask my friends) it isn’t my blindness that limits me, it’s society that limits me.
Most often, stories about disabled people are told from the point of view of non-disabled observers, leaving out the voices of individuals who actually are disabled and have the lived experience of being disabled. If you are really paying attention, you will hear that many of these stories are not really about disabled people and disability; they actually center on non-disabled people selflessly helping or including disabled people in everyday situations. I refer you back to the story of the Prom King or Queen with Down syndrome. When I read those stories, I want to ask, “How was that kid treated the rest of the year?”
We certainly should highlight successful disabled people and tell uplifting stories about disability. We certainly need to hear stories about good deeds and kindness in general.
But portraying disabled people thoroughly and realistically can be uplifting too.
When I speak with people facing loss of vision or who have just gone blind, I want my story—my real story—to inspire them and comfort them. I want them to know that as a totally blind woman for 28 years, I have a great life. I hold leadership positions in my community. I’ve raised 3 children, and I have 8 grandchildren. I’ve written children’s books, taken horseback riding, sailing and skiing lessons. I am a potter and I have many friends. I am genuinely happy. I want people who need inspiration in their own lives to find it in the fact that becoming blind isn’t the end of “normal” life; it is the beginning of learning to live it with a disability.
The reality is that sometimes this life will be hard and frustrating and there will be some good days and some bad days. Just as there are for sighted people. And it is true that the world is not designed for people with disabilities, and we must use our voices to advocate.
I want to be inspirational for what I’ve really accomplished in life, for my advocacy and my achievements helping others—those things that are really admirable. I don’t need to be celebrated for brushing my teeth and wearing matching clothes. (Full disclosure, there has been a time or two that I found out later in the day that I had put on two different gym shoes). So that is my problem with inspiration porn.
But if we want to talk about how to celebrate people with disabilities who are really inspiring and deserve plaudits, here are some ideas.
Stories about disability should always include ideas, thoughts, and/or direct quotations from actual disabled people who have the lived experience. If meaningful inclusion in the story of disabled people isn’t possible for whatever reason, then there is no story. I wholeheartedly believe in “nothing about us without us.” This isn’t just a catch phrase. It is an imperative.
If you tell a story of a disabled person’s perseverance and accomplishments over difficult circumstances tell the whole story: Tell what it means to other disabled people, and what societal changes might be made so disabled people don’t have to struggle so much. Give readers a broader understanding of what the challenges are. Mention lack of accessibility, stigmas and mindsets that make it hard for us to get jobs and to participate fully in other activities and that make us feel that we don’t have a place. Give the reader information that can potentially create change.
And finally, and most important: Avoid at all costs the concept that people who have a disability “suffer” with it. As in “That boy suffers from Down Syndrome.” I really don’t suffer from my blindness. Don’t refer to a disability as a burden or a tragedy and stop thinking that way! And for goodness sakes, don’t talk about disabled adults as if they are children. Give a realistic picture of what disability entails. Tell the truth—don’t glamorize it, sensationalize it, or gloss over it. Tell it straight.
Remember also to show the tools and supports disabled people use every day to function.
In every case where it is possible, let us tell our own stories. Let our voices be heard. This may be the real challenge in avoiding inspiration porn: We may not give you the story that sells newspapers; but it is our story.
It will be awesome if the authentic story of my life over the past 28 years inspires someone with or without a disability to overcome a challenge, or if it helps someone facing blindness to think of himself in a positive way, or if it motivates other blind people to advocate for themselves.
Life is good. Blindness is a part of it for me. That is the unvarnished truth.
Michelle Friedman is a life coach, disability advocate and children’s book author. Michelle is a career not for profit organization board member for 30 years and is currently the vice chair of the board of Keshet and the development chair of the board of the Institute for Therapy Through the Arts.
Cover Photo: The Disabled Life
*Audio Narration Coming Soon