While everyone else was buzzing about the recent Olympic Games in Tokyo, I was way too busy finishing my thesis to even remotely consider watching them. I normally love to watch the opening and closing ceremonies, as well as any competition featuring Chilean or German athletes/teams, but this time I simply couldn't, partly due to my obligations and partly because of the mind-blowing 13 hour time difference between Chile and Japan. But deep down inside, I was actually much more excited for the event that would follow two weeks later: the Paralympics. Not to my surprise, yet much to my dismay, the Paralympics were not broadcasted anywhere on Chilean television, nor on any of the cable sports channels that we have, while the traditional Olympics obviously were. "Geez, so much for diversity!", I thought. "Looks like the only minorities that matter are the ones that sell".
But then, something happened that quickly restored my faith in this ever-evolving humanity. To mark the occasion, and right before the Games started, Mattel announced that the first ever Chilean woman to get her own Barbie doll would be none other than Francisca Mardones, shot putter and flag carrier for the Tokio Paralympics. As soon as I saw the news I started jumping up and down in my seat with excitement and showed it to my mother like I was five years old. Finally, representation!
Looking back as an adult, I think I would have given anything in the world for a doll like that when I was little. I just didn't know it was even possible, so I didn't feel sad about it. It's only now that I've grown that I realize just how impactful it is to see yourself represented while you are growing up as a minority of any kind, whether you are Black, gay or disabled, like me. It makes you feel way less alone, and even more importantly, it gives you the sensation that you actually matter. On the other hand, it helps change the way you are percieved by the rest of society, because people become aware of your existence and the idea that humans are diverse before they actually meet you, leading to far fewer misconceptions, harmful stereotypes and preconceived notions. If a child has a doll that is missing an arm, they will be far less shocked when they see another child in preschool that is missing an arm as well. That is the true meaning behind the word "representation", though I almost feel that it has been so overused people no longer realize how vital it is. Their mind jumps straight to quotas and affirmative action, but to us it means so much more than that. It is a tool to make our faces seen, our voices heard, our struggles understood and our needs met. If you don't see the person with the problem, you will hardly be able to solve it because it becomes too abstract, which is why so many organizations and campaigns tend to use spokespeople or ambassadors to advocate for their causes.
Another issue I have noticed with disability representations in the media is that they nearly always feature children or teens, effectively erasing us disabled adults as if we dissappeared into thin air when we grow up. Personally, I would love nothing more than to see more depictions of people like me having careers, jobs, romantic (and sexual!) relationships and children. And I would love it even more if the disability wasn't even mentioned as a fictional character's distinctive feature or main storyline, but rather as only one aspect of a well-written, three-dimensional person that goes beyond the "victim", "angel" or "inspirational" stereotype we so often see.
Finally, I could never stress out enough just how important it is for every human being to feel identified, to feel like they can see themselves, their appearances and their stories reflected on others, because only then you become able to visualize a future.
As for the Barbie doll, well... I'm getting her no matter what. Who said they're for children anyway?
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