By: Rebecca Monteleone
NB: This post contains nudity. Read at your own discretion.
Hey pals, welcome back to [Insert Disability Euphemism
Here]! I’m so glad to see you here.
Today, I wanted to delve a little more deeply into a topic that I brought up
previously: the politics of staring.
Wait, what does that mean?
With a constant
barrage of media flying at our faces 24/7, I think it is valuable to reflect on
the intention of the images being presented to us, as well as how we, as
viewers, interpret them. (Ugh, but introspection is SO hard, Becca!) I know,
darling readers, I know. Please don’t interrupt, though. It won’t be so
bad as all that. If we equip ourselves with kick-ass theory, the introspection
comes naturally, I promise.
To aid in our reflection, I am going to outline some work by
the brilliant Rosemarie Garland-Thomson, which discusses the invitation to
stare and the intent behind certain representations of disabled bodies.
Alongside her framework, I will lay out some modern examples of what she refers
to as the four “visual rhetorics” (Source).
Before we get into all that, however, there are some
assumptions I am going to make in this post (and, frankly, in my life) that you
should be aware of:
1. Disability
is a social construct. While there are some very valid critiques to the social model
of disability, it is a useful device when attempting to understand how
disability is situated in the sociological, political, and economic
environments that shape our lives. Harlan Hahn describes disability as “the
failure of a structured social environment to adjust to the needs and
aspirations of citizens with disabilities rather than the inability of the
disabled individual to adapt to the demands of society.” (Hahn, 1986). In the
context of staring, the social model holds that the way in which individuals
are viewed by others invariably impacts their social value, and in turn, their
overall well-being.
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| “these stairs (are our way of telling you that you are not welcome here)” Carole Zoom |
2.Staring is
a very specific act. Staring, as opposed to simply looking, suggests a
certain relationship between the starer and the subject. Jean-Paul Sartre
suggests the act itself is one of objectification, and shame (or pride) arises
not from one’s features themselves, but those features as they are seen by
others (Sartre, 1942). There is something inherently dehumanizing about
staring, particularly in the context of image or video, as it produces a
distance between the subject and viewer
that allows that viewer to gape without reciprocation or shame. As Rosemarie
Garland-Thomson writes, “starers gawk with abandon at the prosthetic hook, the
empty sleeve, the scarred flesh, the unfocused eye, the twitching limb, but
seldom does the looking broaden to envelope the whole body.”
3. These
rhetorics can be applied across the board. While disabled bodies have
certainly been a ready subject of staring throughout history, they are not
alone. These rhetorics can (and are) readily applied to any body deemed
“other.” If you are able to pinpoint a feature on a body that could be deemed
as aberrant to the norm (if you’ll recall from my last post on Crip Theory, the
dominant sociological class maintains their place via the invisibility of their
features), whether that be in ability, skin colour, weight, gender expression,
or age, then this post is likely applicable to some extent. So that’s cool!
4. Understanding
how we view people is increasingly important in the Digital Age. Rosemarie
Garland-Thomson first published the Politics
of Staring in 2002, writing that “disability photography offers the
spectator the pleasure of unaccountable, uninhibited, insistent looking.” In
the subsequent decade, the internet has provided a nearly endless space for
unaccountable staring. Anonymity is allotted to both viewers and subjects—which
may further dehumanise subjects, and allow bolder stares from viewers. It is
becoming increasingly important to understand how and why images and video of
disabled bodies are produced, how you as a viewer are receiving them, and why
your opinion of an image matters in terms of creating an equitable, inclusive,
and empowering society.
1. Wondrous: “Oh wow! That’s amazing!”
The idea of the wondrous disabled
figure is one with its roots in the earliest civilizations. Disability was (and
sometimes still is) viewed as the manifestation of some divine good or evil. Disability
is wholly dissociated from the average person’s experience. The image is meant
to inspire excitement and admiration, and is strongly tied to the “supercrip”
or “courageous overcomer” narratives.
There is nothing inherently
malicious in the intent behind images such as this one—this athlete is, in
fact, incredibly impressive. Look at those guns. The danger lies in the dehumanization
of the subject in favour of delighting the audience with the surreal and
amazing. The subject becomes not sub-human, but superhuman. This higher esteem may seem preferable, but produces
the same result: seemingly insurmountable distance between the viewer and the
subject.
2. Sentimental: “There, but for the grace of
God, go I.”
The sentimental visual rhetoric diminishes the subject in
order to emphasize the viewers’ “own narratives of progress, improvement, or
heroic deliverance and contains disability’s threat in the sympathetic,
helpless [person] for whom the viewer is empowered to act” (Garland-Thomson,
2002). In essence, the agenda of the sentimental rhetoric is to authorise the
viewer to act on behalf of the
subject. Unsurprisingly, this type of representation occurs most often in the
charity world (as seen above). The photo above does not even feature the
subject’s face—she is literally reduced to her chair and nothing else. The text
directly implores the viewer to act: “What can YOU do?” The sentimental rhetoric begs introspection from the
viewer, and beseeches them to act on behalf of the powerless; dehumanizing the
subjects to their disabilities in order to emphasize weakness and impotence.
3. Exotic: “That’s…different.”
The exotic rhetoric views the
disabled body as “alien, distant, often sensationalized,” and eroticised
(Garland-Thomson, 2002). The idea of “passing” as able-bodied is entirely
rejected in favour of hyperbolizing the stigma and “otherness” that enshroud
disabled bodies. Whereas the wonderous rhetoric often incidentally highlights
the foreignness of the subject’s features, the exotic rhetoric designs to do
so. Exotic images of disability seek to redefine disabled identity by
“upsetting the earnest, asexual, vulnerable, courageous image of disability
that charity rhetoric has so firmly implanted” (Garland-Thomson, 2002). More
often than not, the redefinition of disabled identity is produced for disabled consumers rather than
able-bodied viewers. This rhetoric is often seen in performance art (as seen
above), dance, theatre, high fashion, and ethnographic photography (as also
seen above).
4. Realistic. “You’re just like me!”
The realistic rhetoric seeks to
minimise the distance and difference that has permeated the other rhetorics. It
discourages staring, and instead promotes other, less involved variants of
looking such as glancing. It presupposes normalcy for the subject, and
“dismantles the assumption that disability precludes accomplishment”
(Garland-Thomson, 2002). The above advert, from a UK retailer, features a
wheelchair user, not as a subject of interest, but one of several models in a
recent campaign. Even her close proximity to the other models in the shoot
position her firmly within the “rhetoric of the ordinary” (Garland-Thomson,
2002).
Ironically, the realistic
rhetoric, which seeks to destigmatize and “regulate” disability in its simplistic
style, is actually making the most drastic statement about disabled identity in
the modern world. It “radically reimagin(es) disability by installing people
with disabilities in the realm of human commonality” (Garland-Thomson, 2002).
This rhetoric, of the four, is the only that does not overtly emphasize the
“otherness” of the disabled body, and instead seeks to normalise it. Whether or
not the normalisation of disabled bodies is an appropriate goal…well that’s the
subject of a post for another time.
Each of these representations has very real social and
political ramifications, but none are inherently positive or negative. There is
no fundamentally “correct” way to represent disability (although, there are loads of wrong ways to do it). Negative
consequences arrive with the extreme dehumanization of subjects, the lack of
creative control concerning how images and video of disabled bodies are
presented to the public, the use of rhetorics to further isolate and socially
devalue, and thoughtless consumption.
That’s where we come in, dear readers. In an age of
bite-sized media consumption and anonymity, it is our job as viewers to
consider the intent behind an image or video and how we interpret it. Who
authorised the image? Who is the intended audience? Does it create or minimise
distance between myself and the subject? Do I want distance between myself and the subject? Why?
These rhetorics combined create the “culturally fabricated
narrative of body,” that we all exist in, and critical analysis of how we
interact with that narrative is crucial.
I mean, I can’t make
you do it. But I can ask really nicely. Please consider how the media you
consume presents others. Please consider how your perceptions are impacted by that
presentation.
This matters, you guys.
Thank you, as always, for reading. Check back in next week for a special
announcement!
Sources not otherwise
linked
Hahn, H., “Public Support for
Rehabilitation in Programs: The Analysis of US Disability Policy”,
Disability,
Handicap & Society, 1986, No. 1(2) pp. 121-138
Sartre, Jean-Paul (1943). Being and Nothingness.
