The first in an attempted series of thoughtful posts. My aim isn't to rant; it's to educate. If anything is unclear, please ask. I will refer to Mass Effect frequently, because the games and their fandom are the catalysts for this, but they aren't actually the content. All non-fans need to know is that the character Joker has Osteogenesis Imperfecta (brittle bone disease or Vrolik's syndrome)... and that in ME3, the powers that be decided to hook him up with an AI robot.
Yesterday I found myself arguing about Joker with a reader of my fan fic A Star to Steer Her By. Usually I wouldn't argue character interpretation, but in this case I found the (clearly well-intentioned!)argument insulting.
The commenter saw Joker as insecure, as absolutely terrified that he'd hurt himself, until he started being a BAMF at the end of ME2 and had EDI 'coax him out of his shell'symbolizing his transformation from ugly caterpillar into beautiful butterfly. There are a few reasons this is a bit painful -- I've always thought the idea that anyone could be 'fixed' by anyone but themselves was a dangerous notion -- but I think at root, it's the same thing I found insulting about a particular ambient dialogue in the game.
In the dialogue, Joker (who is 31 years old and has osteogenesis imperfecta) solicits advice on how to safely have sex from an alien doctor. The advice boils down to physical therapy, creative positions, and cushions. Joker is portrayed as surprised by this.
Let me make this perfectly clear for those who are physically-typical/able-bodied: Those of us who face physical limitations know our bodies and our limits. We know them better than outside observers ever will, better than most able-bodied people know their own, and sooner than most people, too. When you're more limited in an area you run up to (and past) that limit more often and so you know exactly where it is. It's not an issue of introspection, it's an issue of day-to-day functionality and survival. Managing your own capabilities and meta-gaming what your body can do is a vital part of leading a full life. My good friend (and my-body-is-a-factory-second Mentor) recently said that coping was all about hobbies: "Just like some people tinker on classic cars, you have to learn to appreciate your little maintenance hobbies. As you get older, you'll get a lot more hobbies -- and you'll get them sooner than everyone else."
It's infantilizing to suggest that a disabled character is either ignorant of physical therapy and basic sex options or irrationally terrified of hurting themselves, because both suggest they haven't been paying any attention for their entire lives. Joker shouldn't be irrationally afraid of breaking himself; he'd know the exact limits of his own bones before he was even a teen (being cautious and responsible is entirely different from being terrified, note). It's not an issue of interpretation; it's just how people with disabilities live their lives*. Unless treatment modalities totally change for the worse, physical therapy would have been a part of his life since before he could talk. Working out how to have sex within his limits was probably half of how he spent his teen daydreaming -- just like everyone else. In case standard creativity couldn't do it, I'm sure the helpful pamphlet at the doc's office ("OI and You: The Bedroom") had some interesting illustrations -- and again, unless societal attitudes about sex have actually gotten worse in the future, that hypothetical pamphlet was available as a teen.
Unfortunately, people underestimate how much a PwD knows about their own body all the time. People you've only known for five minutes offer Brilliant Suggestions** or say you need to Keep Positive or 'just try harder', as if Random Stranger B can think of something in five minutes that you haven't noticed in a life-time of managing your body and limits.***
Not acknowledging a PwD's self-awareness can also lead to an odd blame-swa; in the game dialogue, Joker clearly doubts himself and is intensely self-concious; in the interpretation I objected to Joker is desperately insecure about his own abilities and frightened of hurting himself. Both put the onus squarely on Joker: he needs to just 'get over it' to make everything peachy. That lets everyone else off the hook.
If my own experience and that of friends and aquaintances is anything to go by -- if the writing in the first game is anything to go by -- Joker isn't insecure about his abilities. He's insecure about how others perceive him, and therefore perceive his abilities. He knows what he can do -- how could he not? Obviously this applies to sex and relationships, as well -- the issue is not thinking oneself incapable, it's being afraid that everyone else will think you incapable and never give you a chance. Suggesting it's all in your head is belittling and ignores a very real problem.
*This wasn't always the case -- for awhile people thought the only way to raise a child with OI was to carry them around on cushions and guard them from the world -- but we haven't lived in that world for decades, and only the well-to-do inhabited it then.
**I wrote a scene for Star in which Joker complains about idiots who 'helpfully' suggest he should 'drink more milk.' I wish I hadn't cut it for flow reasons, because it's exactly the kind of face-palm worthy comment I want people to be aware of.
***I strongly believe that a lot of this unsolicited advice comes from a deep seated desire to do something, anything to help. Seeing something they can't 'fix' makes a lot of people uncomfortable. I understand that, and in person I try to respond to the intent, but it'd be nice if people realized that they're offering to help to make themselves more comfortable.
Yesterday I found myself arguing about Joker with a reader of my fan fic A Star to Steer Her By. Usually I wouldn't argue character interpretation, but in this case I found the (clearly well-intentioned!)argument insulting.
The commenter saw Joker as insecure, as absolutely terrified that he'd hurt himself, until he started being a BAMF at the end of ME2 and had EDI 'coax him out of his shell'
In the dialogue, Joker (who is 31 years old and has osteogenesis imperfecta) solicits advice on how to safely have sex from an alien doctor. The advice boils down to physical therapy, creative positions, and cushions. Joker is portrayed as surprised by this.
Let me make this perfectly clear for those who are physically-typical/able-bodied: Those of us who face physical limitations know our bodies and our limits. We know them better than outside observers ever will, better than most able-bodied people know their own, and sooner than most people, too. When you're more limited in an area you run up to (and past) that limit more often and so you know exactly where it is. It's not an issue of introspection, it's an issue of day-to-day functionality and survival. Managing your own capabilities and meta-gaming what your body can do is a vital part of leading a full life. My good friend (and my-body-is-a-factory-second Mentor) recently said that coping was all about hobbies: "Just like some people tinker on classic cars, you have to learn to appreciate your little maintenance hobbies. As you get older, you'll get a lot more hobbies -- and you'll get them sooner than everyone else."
It's infantilizing to suggest that a disabled character is either ignorant of physical therapy and basic sex options or irrationally terrified of hurting themselves, because both suggest they haven't been paying any attention for their entire lives. Joker shouldn't be irrationally afraid of breaking himself; he'd know the exact limits of his own bones before he was even a teen (being cautious and responsible is entirely different from being terrified, note). It's not an issue of interpretation; it's just how people with disabilities live their lives*. Unless treatment modalities totally change for the worse, physical therapy would have been a part of his life since before he could talk. Working out how to have sex within his limits was probably half of how he spent his teen daydreaming -- just like everyone else. In case standard creativity couldn't do it, I'm sure the helpful pamphlet at the doc's office ("OI and You: The Bedroom") had some interesting illustrations -- and again, unless societal attitudes about sex have actually gotten worse in the future, that hypothetical pamphlet was available as a teen.
Unfortunately, people underestimate how much a PwD knows about their own body all the time. People you've only known for five minutes offer Brilliant Suggestions** or say you need to Keep Positive or 'just try harder', as if Random Stranger B can think of something in five minutes that you haven't noticed in a life-time of managing your body and limits.***
Not acknowledging a PwD's self-awareness can also lead to an odd blame-swa; in the game dialogue, Joker clearly doubts himself and is intensely self-concious; in the interpretation I objected to Joker is desperately insecure about his own abilities and frightened of hurting himself. Both put the onus squarely on Joker: he needs to just 'get over it' to make everything peachy. That lets everyone else off the hook.
If my own experience and that of friends and aquaintances is anything to go by -- if the writing in the first game is anything to go by -- Joker isn't insecure about his abilities. He's insecure about how others perceive him, and therefore perceive his abilities. He knows what he can do -- how could he not? Obviously this applies to sex and relationships, as well -- the issue is not thinking oneself incapable, it's being afraid that everyone else will think you incapable and never give you a chance. Suggesting it's all in your head is belittling and ignores a very real problem.
*This wasn't always the case -- for awhile people thought the only way to raise a child with OI was to carry them around on cushions and guard them from the world -- but we haven't lived in that world for decades, and only the well-to-do inhabited it then.
**I wrote a scene for Star in which Joker complains about idiots who 'helpfully' suggest he should 'drink more milk.' I wish I hadn't cut it for flow reasons, because it's exactly the kind of face-palm worthy comment I want people to be aware of.
***I strongly believe that a lot of this unsolicited advice comes from a deep seated desire to do something, anything to help. Seeing something they can't 'fix' makes a lot of people uncomfortable. I understand that, and in person I try to respond to the intent, but it'd be nice if people realized that they're offering to help to make themselves more comfortable.