The Unbearable Invisibility of Being MENA in the Media
Growing up in Hawaii, despite its beautiful, multicultural communities, there was rarely a person around me that was Middle Eastern North African (MENA). My Iranian immigrant family practically took off sprinting after anyone if we heard even an inkling of Farsi spoken, just so that we could say hello. It was that rare and that coveted.
Decades later, those same combined, complicated feelings of yearning, heartache, and gratitude still wash over me when I find any media representation whatsoever that positively represents Persian culture. That’s why I was immediately diverted from my piled-up to-do list when I came across an Instagram video post of Britney Spears saying “Asheghetam” (“I love you” in Farsi) to Sam Asghari, her long-time boyfriend and now fiancé, who happens to be Iranian-American.
In fact, representation of Iranians, or anyone with MENA heritage has historically fallen short in Hollywood. Portrayals are often limited to painfully stereotyped characters which Meighan Stone, Former President of the Malala Fund, described as “negative, violent, and voiceless” in her report for the Harvard Kennedy School. In fact, her study of a 2-year period, between 2015-2017, found that there was not a single news story that highlighted positive coverage over negative coverage of Muslim protagonists.
Similarly, Jack Shaheen’s book Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Vilifies a People analyzed 1,000 films across more than 100 years of filmmaking (from 1896-2000) and found that a whopping 93.5% offered negative portrayals, while 5% were neutral and a sad minority of only 1% were positive. A recent study by the MENA Arts Advocacy Coalition found that 242 primetime, first-run scripted TV and streaming shows between 2015-2016 underrepresented MENA actors. When including MENA characters in primetime TV shows, a majority (78%) depicted roles of terrorists, tyrants, agents, or soldiers, most of which were spoken with an accent.
MENA actors who break through MENA stereotypes are often still hidden and invisible in terms of their MENA identity. Among those with Iranian-American heritage: Yara Shahidi, Sarah Shahi (birth name Aahoo Jahansouzshahi), Adrian Pasdar, and others whose roles are often portrayed as a character with another non-MENA ethnic background (which sometimes coincides accurately with their own mixed heritage, but does not reflect their MENA side), such as Black, Latinx or Italian American.
Not enough has improved, but there are inklings of potential progress. Although the intriguing plan to launch a comedy about a Middle Eastern family of superheroes has yet to bear out, the TBS sitcom Chad made it on air after five years in development. Chad is about a teenage boy named Ferydoon “Chad” Amani, a 14-year-old Iranian-American played by Nasim Pedrad of Saturday Night Live.
In an interview with the Hollywood Reporter, Nasim Pedrad sums up how her personal experience motivated her vision for the show:
“When I was growing up, I did not see a half-hour comedy centered around, you know, a Middle Eastern family let alone specifically, a Persian one. In fact, so much of the representation of Middle Easterners on TV that I did see was predominantly negative, which was very alienating. I didn’t see Persian people on TV that seemed anything like the Persian people that I was surrounded by, not just in my family, but in my community. I didn’t understand. I was like, ‘Why are Middle Eastern people on American television only bad guys?’ Like what about those of us living here that are just like the rest of you, except for the specific cultural elements that we still celebrate and hold onto. So my hope is that people watch the show and actually can recognize that yes, this family is Persian American, but hopefully they can tap into just how many similarities we all have and how much we all have in common.”
Psychologists and other scholars substantiate the importance of representation. The failure to move past stereotyped, negative roles for a majority of MENA characters is deeply harmful. It contributes to what my colleagues and I described as a cumulative racial-ethnic trauma for MENA Americans, in an article published in the American Psychologist. MENA Americans live with chronic and pervasive experiences of hypervisibility related to negative portrayals, and utter invisibility when it comes to featuring the positive, or even just the normal. These chronic subtle, and sometimes overt, messages of hate build up, contributing to insecurity, alienation, hopelessness, and ultimately, physical health and mortality.
In contrast, the potential benefits of media portrayals that affirm the ways in which MENA and other diverse communities are interconnected, loving, and share common values, hopes, and dreams, matter to children’s mental health and well-being. They matter to creating a society that has compassion, empathy, and embraces the many strengths that diversity brings.
Actionable Insights
Do your homework. Watch and read authentic stories. Examples in the media are when Anthony Bourdain visited Iran on Parts Unknown, or when Brandon Stanton took his camera to Iran and other countries allowing his loyal HONY following to connect with the universality of human struggles and triumphs across borders.
Represent rich complexity, identities, and varieties. Feature MENA characters in television and film with non-stereotyped characteristics and roles. Pay attention to details such as accents, religious beliefs, immigrant generation, sexuality, and gender roles that perpetuate negative stereotypes, are often inaccurate, and do not represent the diversity within the MENA community.
Involve insiders. Involve MENA Americans in content creation to ensure authenticity of stories and characters. CSS Collaborator, Sascha Paladino, and his team offer a lovely model of inclusion and authenticity in Mira, Royal Detective, a Disney Junior show featuring a South Asian protagonist.
Amplify capable, compelling, desirable representations. Amplify MENA stories that represent the many societal contributions MENA Americans make. Oftentimes, when someone with a MENA heritage does something well, their race/ethnicity is suddenly invisible from the story, and may not even be reported.
Increase the sheer number of characters. Increase the MENA American characters in children’s programming. At only about 1%, there’s no place to go but up.
Be accurate about identities. Accurately and authentically depict MENA actors as MENA (or, when relevant to their actual background and not creating conflict with the storyline, upholding their mixed heritage) characters. Likewise, such as in the case of Prince of Persia, or Dune, when characters are supposed have MENA heritage, hire MENA actors.
Professor at the University of California, Santa Barbara
Collaborator of CSS
‘In the Heights’ celebrates the resilience Washington Heights has used to fight the COVID-19 pandemic
This article originally appeared on The Conversation on June 11, 2021
With camera work that swoops from rooftops to street corners, the film “In the Heights” brings to life the dynamism of northern Manhattan’s Washington Heights neighborhood.
Directed by Jon M. Chu, “In the Heights” updates Lin-Manuel Miranda and Quiara Alegría Hudes’ Tony Award-winning musical of the same name. Set in a changing neighborhood defined by Dominicans and Latino immigrants, the film eloquently expresses the feel of a hardworking place where your block is your home and a 10-minute walk is a journey to another world.
For me, the film hit home. It brought me back to the years I spent researching and writing my book “Crossing Broadway: Washington Heights and the Promise of New York City,” when I interviewed residents, walked police patrols and dug into municipal records.
In Washington Heights, long home to a mosaic of ethnic groups, some people have recoiled from human differences and huddled up in tight but exclusionary enclaves – ignorant of their neighbors at best, nasty toward them at worst.
Other residents, street-smart cosmopolitans, learned to cross racial and ethnic boundaries to save their neighborhood from crime, decayed housing and inadequate schools. In the 1990s, their efforts turned Washington Heights, once known for a murderous drug trade, into a gentrification hot spot.
My book was released in paperback during the fall of 2019. Just five months later, COVID-19 came.
Could a neighborhood already grappling with the challenges of gentrification – a prominent theme of “In the Heights” – survive a global health disaster? And could a film conceived before COVID-19 emerged speak to a city that sometimes seems to be transformed by the pandemic?
So far – and even though Washington Heights stands out in Manhattan for its suffering due to the coronavirus pandemic – the answer is a cautious yes.
But that painful victory, won with vaccines, local institutions and local ingenuity, will be valuable only if enough can be learned from northern Manhattan’s solidarity and activism to build a healthier and more just city as the pandemic recedes.
A neighborhood rife with vulnerabilities
Like other immigrant neighborhoods confronting the pandemic, Washington Heights and Inwood – the neighborhood to its immediate north – faced serious vulnerabilities.
Immigrant labor and business acumen rescued New York City from the urban crisis in the 1970s and 1980s, when white flight, job losses, a withering tax base and high crime devastated the city.
But as my co-author David M. Reimers and I pointed out in “All the Nations Under Heaven: Immigrants, Migrants and the Making of New York,” the rebuilt city is marked by inequality. Rents are astronomic, so families in Washington Heights and Inwood often double up to make costs more bearable. In the face of an easily transmitted disease, overcrowded housing was a ticking bomb.
Residents in these uptown neighborhoods were also endangered by their jobs. In a city where many white-collar workers could work from home on their laptops, a disproportionate number of Washington Heights residents had to venture out to staff stores, clean buildings, deliver groceries and provide health and child care. As one uptown resident told me, her neighbors weren’t worrying about gaining 15 pounds – they were worried whether their next customer would infect them.
Equally troubling, many uptown residents had nowhere to run to. In more affluent neighborhoods, like the Upper East Side where I live, many people with country houses could decamp. In Washington Heights and Inwood, most people hunkered down in their apartments.
Bonds forged in mutual struggle
Nevertheless, Washington Heights and Inwood have strengths born in the hard experience of making a new home in New York.
The neighborhood has long been the destination of newcomers to the city, among them African Americans escaping Jim Crow, Irish immigrants putting behind them political and economic hardship, Puerto Ricans looking for prosperity, Eastern European Jews in flight from pogroms, German Jewish refugees from Nazism and Greeks expelled from Istanbul. In the 1970s, Dominicans fleeing political repression and economic hardship began to arrive in transforming numbers, along with a small but significant number of Soviet Jews escaping anti-Semitism.
For all their differences the German Jews, Soviet Jews and Dominicans had one thing in common: individual and collective memories of living with three brutal dictators – Hitler, Stalin and Rafael Trujillo. Such experiences were traumatic and could foster a tendency to stick to the safety of your own kind, but they also bred resilience.
Starting in the 1970s, and with cumulative impact by the late 1990s, significant numbers of these residents crossed racial and ethnic boundaries to revive and strengthen their neighborhood.
Thirty years later, when federal authority was absent and the pandemic surged, public-spirited residents – fortified by community institutions – stepped up again. In both cases, it was a clear example of what the sociologist Robert J. Sampson has called “collective efficacy.”
The community steps up
Back when the neighborhood was ravaged by the crack epidemic, Dave Crenshaw, the son of African American political activists, took action. Crenshaw set up athletic activities with the Uptown Dreamers – a youth group that combined sports, community service and educational uplift. The program gave young people, especially women, an alternative to dangerous streets.
When the COVID-19 pandemic erupted, Crenshaw built on his track record. He worked with The Community League of the Heights, a community development organization founded in 1952, Word Up, a community bookshop and arts space dating to 2011, and students from Columbia University’s Mailman School of Public Health. Together, they distributed food and masks, cleaned up grubby street corners, and got people tested and vaccinated.
Further north, the YM-YWHA of Washington Heights and Inwood, founded in 1917, built on its record of serving both Jews and the entire community. Victoria Neznansky – a social worker from the former Soviet Union – worked with her staff to help traumatized families, distribute money to people in need, and bring together two restaurants – one kosher and one Dominican – to feed homebound neighborhood residents.
At Uplift NYC, an uptown nonprofit with strong local roots, Domingo Estevez and Lucas Almonte had anticipated, during the summer of 2020, running summer programs that included a tech camp, basketball and a youth hackathon. When the pandemic struck, they nimbly shifted to providing culturally familiar foods – like plantains, chickens and Cafe Bustelo coffee – to neighbors in need and people who couldn’t go outside.
Arts and media organizations eased the isolation of lockdown. When the pandemic loomed, blogger Led Black, at the local website the Uptown Collective, told readers that “solidarity is the only way forward.” In his posts he shared his griefs and vented his rage at President Donald Trump. He closed every column with “Pa’Lante Siempre Pa’Lante!” or “Forward, Always Forward!”
Inwood Art Works, which promotes local artists and the arts, shut down a film festival scheduled for March 2020 and started “Short Film Fridays,” a weekly presentation of local films on YouTube. The organization also launched the “New York City Quarantine Film Festival,” which explored topics such as life uptown in the COVID-19 pandemic, the beauty of uptown parks and the life of an essential worker.
Dreams of a better life
Of course, Washington Heights suffered during the pandemic.
Beloved local businesses vanished. Foremost among them was Coogan’s, a bar and restaurant that was the unofficial town hall of upper Manhattan, whose life and death were chronicled in the documentary “Coogan’s Way,” which is now screening at film festivals.
Families were forced to live with unemployment, isolation and fear of infection. As the social fabric frayed, loud noise levels and reckless driving of motorcycles and all-terrain vehicles raised alarm. Worst of all, the neighborhood’s residents died at rates greater than in Manhattan overall.
In Washington Heights and the rest of New York City, the coronavirus pandemic exposed long-brewing inequalities. It also illuminated character, community, strong local institutions and dreams of a better life. All these receive loving and lyrical attention in “In the Heights.”
We live, I believe, in an era when it is important to see the strengths that immigrants and their institutions bring to our cities. This film could not have come at a better time.
Professor Emeritus of Journalism and American Studies, Rutgers University - Newark
This article originally appeared on The Conversation
How to Diversify Autism Representation in the Media and Why Intersectionality Matters
HIGHLIGHTS
• Autism is a complex spectrum that includes a variety of symptoms, and no two autistic individuals exhibit the same ones.
• White children are 110% more likely to be identified with autism than Black children and 120% more likely than Hispanic children.
• Transgender and gender-diverse individuals experience higher rates of autism in comparison to their cisgender counterparts.
Growing up as an autistic individual has been difficult for many reasons, most of which stem from my interactions with other people. One memorable instance occurred during a speech therapy session I had in middle school. Although I was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) at the age of 2 and had numerous records indicating so, my then-speech therapist insisted that there was no way I could be autistic. Why? Because I did well in school. This was not an isolated incident though: to this day, I find that many people, including professionals, are surprisingly ignorant about autistic people who deviate from the typical white male savant. I, for instance, am a woman who isn’t a savant and was able to make friends and find love.
Unfortunately, autistic people like me are not represented often in the media, where many people develop their understanding of the autistic experience. While most autistic characters are portrayed as white male geniuses (like Rain Man and The Good Doctor), the fact is, autism is exponentially more complex and diverse than what we see on-screen.
In fact, a study done in 2018 on media portrayals of ASD found that around 46% of the autistic characters on-screen had savant abilities, yet only 10% of autistic people possess these skills in real life. In reality, autism is a complex spectrum that includes a variety of symptoms, and no two autistic individuals exhibit the same ones. Further, the autistic narrative excludes many important aspects of life, such as experiences with dating and romance. Perhaps most disappointing, though, is the sheer lack of intersectionality with media representations of ASD, especially with regard to gender and race.
Connections with Gender and Sexuality
Autism affects individuals of all genders and sexualities, yet most media portrayals reinforce the aforementioned stereotypes. In an article highlighting the experiences women have with ASD, it was noted that women are expected to act “normal” while living with ASD. For instance, young women are expected to complete their studies, behave like their neurotypical peers, and pick up social cues all without supplemental aid. This can lead them to camouflage behaviors (i.e., mimic neurotypical individuals to act “normal”), ultimately delaying the proper diagnosis and treatment they need. While their male counterparts quickly receive assistance and ASD identification, women feel out of place due to society providing cis men a space to “act out”, allowing neurodirvergence to be seen rather than ignored. Furthermore, one 2020 study found that transgender and gender-diverse individuals experience higher rates of autism in comparison to their cisgender counterparts. Although there are many women and LGBTQ+ individuals on the autistic spectrum, in the rare instances where autistic relationships appear on-screen, they are almost always shown from the male, heterosexual perspective.
Fortunately, there have been recent increases in shows and movies about autism’s intersection with gender and sexuality. Atypical explores an autistic boy’s difficulties with dating and coming of age, and Love on the Spectrum includes queer representation. Everything’s Gonna Be Okay includes one female character navigating her experiences with ASD and the dating world, a role played by an actor who actually has ASD, Kayla Cromer. However, these few stories cannot capture everyone’s experiences with ASD. While Atypical discusses how to navigate romance, it once again follows the narrative of a white, cisgender, male character. Similarly, Love on the Spectrum and Everything’s Gonna Be Okay mainly consisted of a white, cisgender cast. So, while the media continues to include more women and LGBTQ+ people with autism, there must also be a push for more nuanced representations with race.
Connections with Race
According to a 2018 community report on autism, white children are 110% more likely to be identified with autism than Black children and 120% more likely than Hispanic children. Many factors influence this occurrence, such as socioeconomic status and even cultural differences. To protect against discrimination, for example, African American families often emphasize independence and self-reliance in their children; if misinterpreted by family or health care providers, these characteristics could lead to a delayed diagnosis of autism. Furthermore, these diagnostic delays can often stem from healthcare provider bias, which could then lead to doctors misinterpreting symptoms and misdiagnosing patients from underrepresented groups. And due to stigma surrounding disability in some ethnic communities, some families may struggle to reach any diagnosis or may not even accept the presence of autism. As a result, many autistic children of color do not receive the proper treatment and support they need compared to white autistic children. Further, low-income communities of color tend to watch the most TV in the US, making it more likely that these individuals will encounter the redundant portrayal of white autistic characters.
Stories featuring autistic people of color may decrease late diagnosis in these communities by reducing stigma and depicting what autism truly looks like. One great example is Pixar’s short film “Loop,” whose main character is a nonverbal, autistic girl of color. The short has been praised by the ASD community and provides a great foundation for future representations of autistic people of color. Diversifying autism in the media can help eliminate misconceptions that prevent people of color from receiving the proper identification they need.
Conclusion
Increasing autism representation in the media would be invaluable for autistic viewers, especially autistic youth. As you may expect, autistic youth tend to experience more bullying than their neurotypical peers and may face additional bullying for other aspects of their identity such as race and sexuality. It doesn’t help that the media illustrates autistic characters as unappealing or unwanted. By including a wide array of autism representation in the media, autistic youth of all ages, races, genders, and sexualities may feel better represented and understood.
Actionable Insights
Show the diversity within the autistic community by including characters of varying race, gender, socioeconomic status, and sexuality.
Directly involve more autistic people in content creation: cast more individuals on the spectrum, recruit more autistic people behind the scenes, and consult the autistic community often.
Highlight varying issues that different populations have while growing up and living with ASD, like an autistic woman’s struggle with diagnosis or person of color’s experience with cultural stigma around disability.
This article is written from the perspective of:
B.A. Psychology, Research Assistant at Developmental Transitions Laboratory
Co-authors:
CSS Intern
CSS Intern
B.A. Psychology, Research Assistant at Developmental Transitions Laboratory
B.A. Psychology, Research Assistant at Developmental Transitions Laboratory
B.A. Psychology, Research Assistant at Developmental Transitions Laboratory
On screen and on stage, disability continues to be depicted in outdated, cliched ways
This article originally appeared on The Conversation on November 2, 2020.
The #MeToo and Black Lives Matter movements have forced Hollywood and other artists and filmmakers to rethink their subject matter and casting practices. However, despite an increased sensitivity to gender and race representation in popular culture, disabled Americans are still awaiting their national (and international) movement.
“Disability drag” – casting able-bodied actors in the roles of characters with disabilities – has been hard to dislodge from its Oscar-worthy appeal. Since 1947, out of 59 nominations for disabled characters, 27 won an Academy Award – about a 50% win rate.
There’s Eddie Redmayne’s performance as Stephen Hawking in “The Theory of Everything”; Daniel Day-Lewis’ portrayal of Christy Brown, who has cerebral palsy, in “My Left Foot”; and Dustin Hoffman’s role as an autistic genius in “Rain Man” – to mention just a few.
In recent years, however, we’ve seen a slight shift. Actors with disabilities are actually being cast as characters who have disabilities. In 2017, theater director Sam Gold cast actress Madison Ferris – who uses a wheelchair in real life – as Laura in his Broadway revival of Tennessee Williams’ “The Glass Menagerie.” On TV and in movies, disabled actors are also being cast in roles of disabled characters.
Despite these developments, the issue of representation – what kind of characters these actors play – remains mostly unaddressed. The vast majority of characters with disabilities, whether they’re played by actors with disabilities or not, continue to represent the same outdated tropes.
As a professor of theater and media who has written extensively on the elements of stage drama, I wonder: Are writers and directors finally poised to move beyond these narrative tropes?
Breaking down the tropes
Typically, the disabled characters are limited to four types: the “magical cripple,” the “evil cripple,” the “inspirational cripple” and the “redemptive cripple.”
Magical cripples transcend the limitations of the human body and are almost divinelike. They make magical things happen for able-bodied characters.
In many ways, the magical cripple functions like “the magical Negro,” a term popularized by director Spike Lee to describe Black characters who are usually impoverished but brimming with folk wisdom, which they selflessly bestow on existentially confused white characters.
Like the magical Negro, the magical cripple is a plot device used to guide the lead character toward moral, intellectual or emotional enlightenment. The magical cripple doesn’t learn anything and doesn’t grow because he already is enlightened.
In film, examples include Frank Slade, the blind army colonel who guides young Charlie through the perils of teenage love in 1992’s “Scent of a Woman.” Marvel’s Daredevil character is a perfect example of a magical cripple: A blind person imbued with supernatural abilities who can function above and beyond his physical limitations.
Evil cripples represent a form of karmic punishment for the character’s wickedness. One of the most well-known is Shakespeare’s Richard III, the scheming hunchbacked king.
In a 1916 essay, Sigmund Freud pointed to Richard as an example of the correlation between physical disabilities and “deformities of character.” The trope of the evil cripple is rooted in mythologies populated by half-man half-beasts who possess pathological and sadistic cravings.
More recent examples of the evil cripple include Dr. Strangelove, Mini-Me from “Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me” and Bolivar Trask in “X-Men: Days of Future Past.”
Then there are inspirational cripples, whose roles equate to what disability rights activist Stella Young calls “inspiration porn.” These stories center on disabled people accomplishing basic tasks or “overcoming” their disability. We see this in “Stronger,” which retells the story of Boston Marathon bombing survivor Jeff Bauman.
In the inspirational narratives, disability is not a fact of life – a difference – but something one has to overcome to gain rightful sense of belonging in society.
An offshoot of the inspirational narrative is the redemptive narrative, in which a disabled person either commits suicide or is killed. In movies like “Water for Elephants,” “Simon Birch” and “The Year of Living Dangerously,” disabled characters are sacrificed to prove their worth or to help the protagonist reach his goal.
These characters serve as dramaturgical steppingstones. They are never partners or people in their own right, with their own drives and ambitions. They are not shown as deserving their own stories.
The persistence of these tropes underlies the urgent need to reevaluate the makeup of writers and production teams. Who writes these parts is perhaps more important than who acts them.
Beyond the hero’s journey
There’s a reason these formulaic roles are so prevalent.
For much of the past century, Hollywood storytelling has operated according to the hero’s journey, a dramatic structure that places the white male able-bodied character at the center of the story with atypical characters serving as “helpers” to support his goals.
This narrative model has conditioned audiences to see the helpers as purely functional. The tropes based on this framework define the categories of belonging: who is and who isn’t human, whose life is worth living and whose isn’t.
The one narrative journey that historically allowed the disabled to play a central role depicted them as working toward the symbolic reclamation of their dignity and humanity. In tragic narratives, this quest fails, and the characters either die or request euthanasia as a gesture of love toward their caretakers.
“Million Dollar Baby” and “Me Before You” are two good examples of films in which disabled characters choose voluntary euthanasia, communicating the socially internalized low value of their own lives.
But what if disabled characters already had dignity? What if no such quest were needed? What if their disability weren’t the thing to overcome but merely one element of one’s identity?
This would require deconstructing the conceptual pyramid of past hierarchies, one that has long used disabled characters as props to illuminate conventional heroes.
Carrie Mathison in the series “Homeland” can be thought of as representing this new approach. Carrie, played by Claire Danes, struggles with mental illness, and it affects her life and her work.
But it is not something to overcome in a dramatic sense. Overcoming the disability is not the central theme of the series – it’s not the main obstacle to her goal. Carrie’s disability does give her some insights, but these come at a price and are not magical.
“Homeland” further breaks the mold by giving Carrie a helper who is an older white male – Saul Berenson, played by Mandy Patinkin.
As we move towards greater gender and race inclusivity at work and in the arts, disability should not be left behind. More complex, more sophisticated stories and representations need to replace the simplistic, outdated and cliched tropes that have been consistently rewarded at the Oscars.
Associate Professor of Theatre and Dramaturgy, Emerson College
This article originally appeared on The Conversation.
5 ways to challenge systemic ableism during Autism Acceptance Month
This article originally appeared on The Conversation on April 21, 2021.
April is World Autism Month. It kicked off on April 2 — World Autism Awareness Day — launching a month of activities and events across the world including the Autism Speaks’ Light It Up Blue campaign. Each year, key landmarks across Canada and the globe, including Toronto’s CN Tower, Ottawa’s Peace Tower and Vancouver’s B.C. Place light up blue to promote public awareness and understanding.
What could possibly be wrong with a campaign to sensitize the public to autism?
World Autism Month and Light it up Blue have been the subject of protest from autistic self-advocates and organizations such as Ontario’s Autistics for Autistics and the national group, Autistics United Canada.
Self-advocates point to the absence of autistic leadership in awareness campaigns and describe how the powerful advocacy organizations that fund them — led primarily by non-autistic people — continue to portray autistic people negatively as mysterious puzzles to be solved. They continue to focus on cures for autism or therapies that aim to “fix” autistic people.
At first blush, it might seem that autism organizations are finally heeding the concerns of autistic self-advocates. Words such as “inclusion,” “diversity,” “acceptance” and “understanding” pepper their campaigns. Yet these organizations persist in advancing the rhetoric of autism as a burden and disorder and often exclude autistic people from leadership.
As allies, parents and critical autism researchers, we understand the dire need for awareness, advocacy and research. Findings from our Re•Storying Autism project show autistic children and adults experience higher rates of bullying, mental health struggles, misunderstanding, inferior education, underemployment and even premature death.
Families struggle with the stigmatizing effects of misunderstanding and the lack of meaningful or culturally relevant help. This is especially true for racialized autistic people and families, who face compounded forms of exclusion and harm.
Instead of communicating care or concern through awareness campaigns and lighting it up blue this year, consider learning about initiatives led by autistic people such as #RedInstead, Autism Acceptance Month and others. Here are five things that autistic people have been saying for years that require the attention of those who claim to intervene in the name of autism:
1. Awareness
The idea that “awareness” of autism is needed suggests there is widespread ignorance of the existence of autism. The explosion of autistic self-advocacy, social media presence and representation in mainstream media and television shows like Atypical suggest otherwise (though mainstream media still limits diverse representation).
Autism was once considered a rare condition, but one would have to be vastly disconnected to be unaware of it today. Instead of awareness, we need to challenge the ableism of autism awareness campaigns, advocacy and research — the persistent barriers and attitudes that value and favour able-bodied people. This devalues and excludes embodied difference, or only considers autism as something that must be “overcome.” People don’t get over autism — they live with it. And many live with it joyfully.
2. Perspective
A focus on autism awareness privileges the perspectives of non-autistic people. The organizations that support awareness such as Autism Speaks, are run mainly by non-autistic people and rarely include autistic adults.
Challenging ableism also means challenging the leadership and power of campaigns such as Light It Up Blue for autism and World Autism Day. Rather than focus on charitable organizations and “helping,” we need to turn our attention to self-advocacy, alternative activities, forms of support and research led by autistic people themselves.
3. Leadership
Much work is needed to achieve accessible and culturally relevant policies and practices for autistic children and adults, the latter of whom are frozen out of policy considerations. The continued lack of guidance and leadership from autistic people serves as a painful reminder that lives that deviate from what constitutes “normal” are only included on terms dictated by those policing the boundaries of what is considered “normal.”
Taking seriously the perspectives advanced by autistic people, means asking them what types of supports can make a qualitative difference in their lives. It means turning to the vast body of work by speaking and non-speaking people who identify as autistic. It means moving the focus away from blue lights, ribbons or other gimmicks, and working towards a sustained challenge to systemic ableism.
4. Neurodiversity
Becoming knowledgeable or informed about autism means appreciating the vast differences among autistic people and the many varieties of what it means to be autistic. Not all autistic people are alike and, thankfully, there are also many viewpoints. Troubling tropes of autism as a disorder and burden must be left behind, and replaced by a form of neurodiversity that embraces diversity.
5. Inclusion
We need to recognize and rectify the persistent exclusion of perspectives and initiatives advanced by members of Black, Indigenous and People of Colour (BIPOC) communities from autism awareness campaigns, as well as diagnosis and support. This includes embracing different cultural understandings of autism that depart from a western biomedical lens focused on deficits.
This April, and every month, we urge you to reconsider the meaning of World Autism Month from the perspective of autistic people themselves.
This article was co-authored by Estée Klar, a Ph.D. in Critical Disability Studies and Neurodiversity and an artist. She is the former founder of The Autism Acceptance Project in Canada (2005-10) and is presently co-collaborator with her non-speaking son/poet/artist, Adam Wolfond, and other speaking and non-speaking neurodiverse people at dis assembly: a neurodiverse arts collective.
Associate professor Disability Studies and Inclusive Education, Brandon University
Professor, health policy, disability, public policy, social movements, L’Université d’Ottawa/University of Ottawa
This article originally appeared on The Conversation
With a limited on-screen presence, autistic characters have emerged in another medium: fan fiction
This article originally appeared on The Conversation on December 13, 2018.
In one Harry Potter fan fiction story, Hermione Granger anxiously awaits the results from a recent test.
It isn’t her performance on an exam in a potions course that she’s concerned about. Instead, the higher-ups at Hogwarts had ordered she undergo some psychological tests. They had noticed how quickly she talked, along with her nervous tics.
Hermione eventually sees the results: “I stared at my parents, blinking my eyes. I knew the results would be here today, but I didn’t think the outcome would be like this. Asperger, the paper said.”
In this piece of fan fiction, Hermione Granger has been diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder.
As scholars of fan fiction and young adult literature, we started noticing how some fan fiction authors were incorporating autism into their stories – sometimes through new characters and other times by rewriting existing ones.
Since then we’ve been collecting and analyzing fan fictions in which young writers have created characters with autism.
These amateur writers seem to be eager to create the kinds of characters they aren’t regularly seeing in the media. The Harry Potter universe, in particular, has emerged as a popular setting.
The importance of autistic characters
According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, approximately 1 in 59 children is diagnosed with autism, a word that covers a spectrum of conditions that psychologists refer to as autism spectrum disorder.
How autism manifests can vary greatly from person to person. Some experience significant disability, while others experience milder forms of cognitive difference and social discomfort.
But one thing is clear: Diagnoses have increased in the past 20 years, with the National Autism Association identifying autism as the “fastest growing development disorder.”
At the same time – outside of a couple of notable examples, like Dustin Hoffman’s character in “Rain Man” and Julia from “Sesame Street” – there continues to be a dearth of autistic characters in books, television shows and films.
Yet these media portrayals are extremely important: Accurate portrayals of autism can help people understand the complexities of this condition. Nonexistent depictions – not to mention misleading ones – foster misinformation and bias.
In 2015, Sonya Freeman Loftis, an assistant professor of English at Morehouse College, published “Imagining Autism: Fiction and Stereotypes on the Spectrum,” one of the few academic studies to take up the representation of autism in fiction.
Loftis critiques stereotypical depictions of autism in a range of fictional narratives, such as the character of Lennie in Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men,” a figure whose disability is linked to sexual violence.
But she also points out that positive representations of autism spectrum disorder can actually highlight some of the strengths that those with autism possess: attention to detail, high levels of concentration, forthrightness, dedication and strong memory skills.
Activists and scholars like Loftis have argued that people diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder should be more justly and accurately understood as “neurodiverse”: If neurological faculties exist on a continuum, theirs could simply be thought of as “different” from the statistical norm.
Young writers take the lead
If major studios and publishing companies express little interest in telling stories about people with autism, who can fill the void?
Fan fictions and other forms of do-it-yourself media-making are an outlet for people to explore issues that are often missing from mass market and popular entertainment.
Some of the most famous examples from fan fiction take place in the Star Trek universe, particularly those that imagine a gay relationship between Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock. In doing so, fans were able to integrate queer plots and themes into Gene Roddenberry’s science fiction universe at a time when few gay relationships were appearing on TV.
Given the paucity of mass media representation of autism, we wondered if young people might be using fan fiction to explore this complex topic.
Beginning in 2016 – and working with University of California, Irvine graduate student Vicky Chen – we started analyzing the writings that have appeared on a hugely popular fan fiction clearinghouse.
After selecting for categories such as “neurodiverse” and “differabilities,” we noticed that a number of stories set in the Harry Potter universe seemed to have autistic or neurodiverse characters. We collected and coded these stories, and are set to publish our findings in a forthcoming essay in the Journal of Literacy Research.
Most of the stories were written by young people who have siblings, relatives or friends with autism spectrum disorder. We concluded that, while some of these characters occasionally slip into stereotypes, most of them affirm the ability of people with autism spectrum disorder to confront bigotry and speak about their own conditions.
By extension, the stories promote an understanding of autism as something that isn’t scary or horrific.
In one story, for instance, the writer creates a new character, Albus Potter, the son of Harry Potter, who is autistic and newly enrolled in Hogwarts. In the story, Albus initially has difficulty forming relationships. But he ultimately finds friends in houses as diverse as Gryffindor and Slytherin.
His overprotective mother tries to shield him from ridicule by students and even some biased faculty. But she’s challenged by others, including her husband, who suggests that “Albus can do a great many things that people have said he couldn’t.”
The ‘magic’ of autism
Why the Harry Potter universe?
We reasoned that many of these young writers are still in school and likely huge fans of Harry Potter, so the choice of Hogwarts as a common setting isn’t surprising.
But many of the young authors also linked autism to a kind of “magic” or ability that could be understood at Hogwarts as special – even advantageous – in ways that “muggles,” or normal people, wouldn’t see. In all of the stories we analyzed, everyone with autism also has magical abilities.
In other cases, autism isn’t depicted as an impairment or a challenge to overcome. Instead, it simply appears as a “difference” – a portrayal that’s aligned with the goals of those who argue that autism should be thought of as a form of neurodiversity, not as an illness or disability.
Perhaps most significantly, this research points to the ways in which young people can craft complex representations of autism that the media shies away from.
We can’t say when positive representations of autism will move from fandom to the mainstream.
But until then, these young writers are quietly doing the work to help dispel stereotypes and generate understanding – perhaps even appreciation.
Chancellor's Professor of English and Gender & Sexuality Studies, University of California, Irvine
Associate Professor of Informatics, University of California, Irvine
This article originally appeared on The Conversation.
Why are sitcom dads still so inept?
This article originally appeared on The Conversation June 16, 2020.
From Homer Simpson to Phil Dunphy, sitcom dads have long been known for being bumbling and inept.
But it wasn’t always this way. Back in the 1950s and 1960s, sitcom dads tended to be serious, calm and wise, if a bit detached. In a shift that media scholars have documented, only in later decades did fathers start to become foolish and incompetent.
And yet the real-world roles and expectations of fathers have changed in recent years. Today’s dads are putting more time into caring for their children and see that role as more central to their identity.
Have today’s sitcoms kept up?
I study gender and the media, and I specialize in depictions of masculinity. In a study I did in 2020, my co-authors and I systematically look at the ways in which portrayals of sitcom fathers have and haven’t changed.
Why sitcom portrayals matter
Fictional entertainment can shape our views of ourselves and others. To appeal to broad audiences, sitcoms often rely on the shorthand assumptions that form the basis of stereotypes. Whether it’s the way they portray gay masculinity in “Will and Grace” or the working class in “Roseanne,” sitcoms often mine humor from certain norms and expectations associated with gender, sexual identity and class.
When sitcoms stereotype fathers, they seem to suggest that men are somehow inherently ill-suited for parenting. That sells actual fathers short and, in heterosexual, two-parent contexts, it reinforces the idea that mothers should take on the lion’s share of parenting responsibilities.
It was Tim Allen’s role as Tim “the Tool Man” Taylor of the 1990s series “Home Improvement” that inspired my initial interest in sitcom dads. Tim was goofy and childish, whereas Jill, his wife, was always ready – with a disapproving scowl, a snappy remark and seemingly endless stores of patience – to bring him back in line. The pattern matched an observation made by TV Guide television critic Matt Roush, who, in 2010, wrote, “It used to be that father knew best, and then we started to wonder if he knew anything at all.”
I published my first quantitative study on the depiction of sitcom fathers in 2001, focusing on jokes involving the father. I found that, compared with older sitcoms, dads in more recent sitcoms were the butt of the joke more frequently. Mothers, on the other hand, became less frequent targets of mockery over time. I viewed this as evidence of increasingly feminist portrayals of women that coincided with their growing presence in the workforce.
Studying the disparaged dad
In our new study, we wanted to focus on sitcom dads’ interactions with their children, given how fatherhood has changed in American culture.
We used what’s called “quantitative content analysis,” a common research method in communication studies. To conduct this sort of analysis, researchers develop definitions of key concepts to apply to a large set of media content. Researchers employ multiple people as coders who observe the content and individually track whether a particular concept appears.
For example, researchers might study the racial and ethnic diversity of recurring characters on Netflix original programs. Or they might try to see whether demonstrations are described as “protests” or “riots” in national news.
For our study, we identified 34 top-rated, family-centered sitcoms that aired from 1980 to 2017 and randomly selected two episodes from each. Next, we isolated 578 scenes in which the fathers were involved in “disparagement humor,” which meant the dads either made fun of another character or were made fun of themselves.
Then we studied how often sitcom dads were shown together with their kids within these scenes in three key parenting interactions: giving advice, setting rules or positively or negatively reinforcing their kids’ behavior. We wanted to see whether the interaction made the father look “humorously foolish” – showing poor judgment, being incompetent or acting childishly.
Interestingly, fathers were shown in fewer parenting situations in more recent sitcoms. And when fathers were parenting, it was depicted as humorously foolish in just over 50% of the relevant scenes in the 2000s and 2010s, compared with 18% in the 1980s and 31% in the 1990s sitcoms.
At least within scenes featuring disparagement humor, sitcom audiences, more often than not, are still being encouraged to laugh at dads’ parenting missteps and mistakes.
Fueling an inferiority complex?
The degree to which entertainment media reflect or distort reality is an enduring question in communication and media studies. In order to answer that question, it’s important to take a look at the data.
National polls by Pew Research Center show that from 1965 to 2016, the amount of time fathers reported spending on care for their children nearly tripled. These days, dads constitute 17% of all stay-at-home parents, up from 10% in 1989. Today, fathers are just as likely as mothers to say that being a parent is “extremely important to their identity.” They are also just as likely to describe parenting as rewarding.
Yet, there is evidence in the Pew data that these changes present challenges, as well. The majority of dads feel they do not spend enough time with their children, often citing work responsibilities as the primary reason. Only 39% of fathers feel they are doing “a very good job” raising their children.
Perhaps this sort of self-criticism is being reinforced by foolish and failing father portrayals in sitcom content.
Of course, not all sitcoms depict fathers as incompetent parents. The sample we examined stalled out in 2017, whereas TV Guide presented “7 Sitcom Dads Changing How we Think about Fatherhood Now” in 2019. In our study, the moments of problematic parenting often took place in a wider context of a generally quite loving depiction.
Still, while television portrayals will likely never match the range and complexity of fatherhood, sitcom writers can do better by dads by moving on from the increasingly outdated foolish father trope.
Professor of Communication, University of Massachusetts Amherst
This article originally appeared on The Conversation.
How toys became gendered – and why it’ll take more than a gender-neutral doll to change how boys perceive femininity
This article originally appeared on The Conversation on December 15, 2019.
Parents who want to raise their children in a gender-nonconforming way have a new stocking stuffer this year: the gender-neutral doll.
Announced in September, Mattel’s new line of gender-neutral humanoid dolls don’t clearly identify as either a boy or a girl. The dolls come with a variety of wardrobe options and can be dressed in varying lengths of hair and clothing styles.
But can a doll – or the growing list of other gender-neutral toys – really change the way we think about gender?
Mattel says it’s responding to research that shows “kids don’t want their toys dictated by gender norms.” Given the results of a recent study reporting that 24% of U.S. adolescents have a nontraditional sexual orientation or gender identity, such as bisexual or nonbinary, the decision makes business sense.
As a developmental psychologist who researches gender and sexual socialization, I can tell you that it also makes scientific sense. Gender is an identity and is not based on someone’s biological sex. That’s why I believe it’s great news that some dolls will better reflect how children see themselves.
Unfortunately, a doll alone is not going to overturn decades of socialization that have led us to believe that boys wear blue, have short hair and play with trucks; whereas girls like pink, grow their hair long and play with dolls. More to the point, it’s not going to change how boys are taught that masculinity is good and femininity is something less – a view that my research shows is associated with sexual violence.
Pink girls and blue boys
The kinds of toys American children play with tend to adhere to a clear gender binary.
Toys marketed to boys tend to be more aggressive and involve action and excitement. Girl toys, on the other hand, are usually pink and passive, emphasizing beauty and nurturing.
It wasn’t always like this.
Around the turn of the 20th century, toys were rarely marketed to different genders. By the 1940s, manufacturers quickly caught on to the idea that wealthier families would buy an entire new set of clothing, toys and other gadgets if the products were marketed differently for both genders. And so the idea of pink for girls and blue for boys was born.
Today, gendered toy marketing in the U.S. is stark. Walk down any toy aisle and you can clearly see who the audience is. The girl aisle is almost exclusively pink, showcasing mostly Barbie dolls and princesses. The boy aisle is mostly blue and features trucks and superheroes.
Breaking down the binary
The emergence of a gender-neutral doll is a sign of how this binary of boys and girls is beginning to break down – at least when it comes to girls.
A 2017 study showed that more than three-quarters of those surveyed said it was a good thing for parents to encourage young girls to play with toys or do activities “associated with the opposite gender.” The share rises to 80% for women and millennials.
But when it came to boys, support dropped significantly, with 64% overall – and far fewer men – saying it was good to encourage them to do things associated with girls. Those who were older or more conservative were even more likely to think it wasn’t a good idea.
Reading between the lines suggests there’s a view that traits stereotypically associated with men – such as strength, courage and leadership – are good, whereas those tied to femininity – such as vulnerability, emotion and caring – are bad. Thus boys receive the message that wanting to look up to girls is not OK.
And many boys are taught over and over throughout their lives that exhibiting “female traits” is wrong and means they aren’t “real men.” Worse, they’re frequently punished for it – while exhibiting masculine traits like aggression are often rewarded.
How this affects sexual expectations
This gender socialization continues into emerging adulthood and affects men’s romantic and sexual expectations.
For example, a 2015 study I conducted with three co-authors explored how participants felt their gender affected their sexual experiences. Roughly 45% of women said they expected to experience some kind of sexual violence just because they are women; whereas none of the men reported a fear of sexual violence and 35% said their manhood meant they should expect pleasure.
And these findings can be linked back to the kinds of toys we play with. Girls are taught to be passive and strive for beauty by playing with princesses and putting on makeup. Boys are encouraged to be more active or even aggressive with trucks, toys guns and action figures; building, fighting and even dominating are emphasized. A recent analysis of Lego sets demonstrates this dichotomy in what they emphasize for boys – building expertise and skilled professions – compared with girls – caring for others, socializing and being pretty. Thus, girls spend their childhoods practicing how to be pretty and care for another person, while boys practice getting what they want.
This results in a sexual double standard in which men are the powerful actors and women are subordinate. And even in cases of sexual assault, research has shown people will put more blame on a female rape victim if she does something that violates a traditional gender role, such as cheating on her husband – which is more accepted for men than for women.
A 2016 study found that adolescent men who subscribe to traditional masculine gender norms are more likely to engage in dating violence, such as sexual assault, physical or emotional abuse and stalking.
Teaching gender tolerance
Mattel’s gender-neutral dolls offer much-needed variety in kids’ toys, but children – as well as adults – also need to learn more tolerance of how others express gender differently than they do. And boys in particular need support in appreciating and practicing more traditional feminine traits, like communicating emotion or caring for someone else – skills that are required for any healthy relationship.
Gender neutrality represents the absence of gender – not the tolerance of different gender expression. If we emphasize only the former, I believe femininity and the people who express it will remain devalued.
So consider doing something gender-nonconforming with your children’s existing dolls, such as having Barbie win a wrestling championship or giving Ken a tutu. And encourage the boys in your life to play with them too.
Assistant Professor of Human Development and Family Studies, Michigan State University
This article originally appeared on The Conversation.
How a masculine culture that favors sexual conquests gave us today’s ‘incels’
This article originally appeared on The Conversation on June 6, 2018.
After the recent shooting at the Santa Fe, Texas, high school, the mother of one of the victims claimed that the perpetrator had specifically killed her daughter because she refused his repeated advances, embarrassing him in front of his classmates. A month prior, a young man, accused of driving a van into a crowded sidewalk that killed ten people in Toronto, posted a message on Facebook minutes before the attack, that celebrated another misogynist killer and said: “The Incel Rebellion has already begun!”
These and other mass killings suggest an ongoing pattern of heterosexual, mostly white men perpetrating extreme violence, in part, as retaliation against women.
To some people it might appear that these are only a collection of disturbed, fringe individuals. However, as a scholar who studies masculinity and deviant subcultures, I see incels as part of a larger misogynist culture.
Masculinity and sexual conquest
Incels, short for “involuntary celibates,” are a small, predominately online community of heterosexual men who have not had sexual or romantic relationships with women for a long time. Incels join larger existing groups of men with anti-feminist or misogynist tendencies such as Men Going Their Own Way, who reject women and some conservative men’s rights activists, as well as male supremacists.
Such groups gather in the “manosphere,” the network of blogs, subreddits and other online forums, in which such men bluntly express their anger against feminists while claiming they are the real victims.
Incels blame women for their sexual troubles, vilifying them as shallow and ruthless, while simultaneously expressing jealousy and contempt for high-status, sexually successful men. They share their frustrations in Reddit forums, revealing extremely misogynist views and in some cases advocating violence against women. Their grievances reflect the shame of their sexual “failures,” as, for them, sexual success remains central to real manhood.
The popular 2005 film “The 40-Year-Old Virgin” nicely illustrates the importance of sexual success, or even conquest, to achieving manhood, as a group of friends attempts to rectify the protagonist’s failure while simultaneously mocking him and bragging about their own exploits. “Getting laid” is a rite of passage and failure indicates a failed masculinity.
Cloaked in the anonymity of online forums, incels’ frustrations become misplaced anger at women. Ironically, while they chafe under what they perceive as women’s judgment and rejection, they actually compare themselves to other men, anticipating men’s judgment. In other words, incels seek to prove themselves to other men, or to the unrealistic standards created by men, then blame women for a problem of men’s own making. Women become threats, cast as callous temptresses for withholding sex from, in their perception, deserving men.
Entitlement
If heterosexual sex is a cultural standard signifying real manhood for a subset of men, then women must be sexually available. When unable to achieve societal expectations, some lash out in misogynist or violent ways. Sociologists Rachel Kalish and Michael Kimmel call this “aggrieved entitlement,” a “dramatic loss” of what some men believe to be their privilege, that results in a backlash.
Noting that a disproportionate number of mass shooters are white, heterosexual and middle class, sociologist Eric Madfis demonstrates how entitlement fused with downward mobility and disappointing life events provoke a “hypermasculine,” response of increased aggression and in some case violent retribution.
According to scholar of masculinity Michael Schwalbe, masculinity and maleness are, fundamentally, about domination and maintaining power.
Given this, incels represent a broader misogynist backlash to women’s, people of color’s and LGBTQI people’s increasing visibility and representation in formerly all-male spheres such as business, politics, sports and the military.
Despite the incremental, if limited, gains won by women’s and LGBTQI movements, misogyny and violence against women remain entrenched across social life. Of course not all men accept this; some actively fight against sexism and violence against women. Yet killings such as those in Toronto and Santa Fe, and the misogynist cultural background behind them, remind many women that their value ultimately lies not in their intelligence and ideas, but in their bodies and sexual availability.
Fringe men or mainstream misogyny?
Dismissing incels and other misogynist groups as disturbed, fringe individuals obscures the larger hateful cultural context that continues in the wake of women’s, immigrants’, LGBTQI’s and people of color’s demands for full personhood.
While most incels will not perpetrate a mass shooting, the toxic collision of aggrieved entitlement and the easy availability of guns suggests that without significant changes in masculinity, the tragedies will continue.
The incel “rebellion” is hardly rebellious. It signals a retreat to classic forms of male domination.
Associate Professor, Grinnell College
This article originally appeared on The Conversation.
Does Hollywood Need Guns?
Guns have been an iconic prop of Hollywood storytelling since the early days of the industry. The genre of gangster movies of the 1930s could not have existed without guns, and the same for the popular TV Westerns of the 1950s. What made those stories engaging was the melding of guns with narratives that were true to their genre. Gangsters need guns just as much as the inhabitants of the Wild West. But in today’s world, the proliferation of guns is creating a crisis of major proportions. The ease with which Americans can obtain assault-style guns is turning our cities into the wild west once glorified in the Westerns of the 1950’s.
While it is difficult to disentangle the role that Hollywood storytelling has on the growth of gun use in the U.S., there is no doubt that gun use has proliferated in popular movies and TV shows, especially in crime-related genres. In our research over the past decade at the University of Pennsylvania’s Annenberg Public Policy Center, we have documented the rise in gun portrayal in popular PG-13 movies and TV-14 television shows. We have also shown that the use of guns in popular screen narratives is seen as acceptable by parents of children ages 15 and older when the guns are used for justified reasons. These include defending oneself or friends and family from others who pose a threat. When Bruce Willis in the Die Hard franchise shoots the bad guys even indiscriminately, he is seen as a hero worthy of emulation.
These attitudes are also observable in young viewers of these kinds of violent entertainment. In a study we conducted with late adolescents, ages 18 to 22, we found that viewing movie clips of justified gun violence was tracked by areas of the brain typically associated with approval. But when the gun violence was seen as unjustified, young people’s brains displayed a pattern more in keeping with disapproval.
We think these findings point to problems with Hollywood’s glorification of guns. Unlike other consumer products, guns are not advertised to the general public on major forms of media. You will not see an ad for a gun on TV or in popular magazines. The gun industry doesn’t need those sources of marketing when it can rely on Hollywood to feature guns as a justified form of self-defense. Not only does Hollywood promote guns, but it also increases fears of crime when it shows the need for guns as a form of protection.
We know that such portrayals are more likely to influence young viewers who are learning about the world through screen media. Research conducted in the 2000s found that adolescents who viewed a lot of films that featured smoking were more likely to initiate smoking. We do not have similar research on guns. But we have looked at changes in gun use in popular TV shows from 2000 to 2018 and found that as the proportion of gun use in violent scenes increased over that time, the proportion of homicides committed with guns also increased, especially for young people ages 15 to 24.
The film industry responded to concerns about featuring smoking in movies by reducing the use of unnecessary use of cigarettes, especially in PG-13 movies that do not restrict viewing. Why can’t the industry do the same for guns? In other words, do we really need to rely on guns to make violent stories appealing? Can’t Hollywood tell compelling stories about crime without overdoing the use of guns?
Dan Romer
Research Director, Annenberg Public Policy Center of the University of Pennsylvania
From Limiting Beliefs to Limitless Potential: How Mister Rogers and Barbie Inspired My Learning Design of a Multimedia Curriculum for Young Children
It was never my intention to pull a Mister Rogers.
Then again — was it?
As a children’s media researcher and learning designer, I’m keenly aware of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood’s pedagogical punch. In fact, I dedicate an entire class session to this show and its spin-off, Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood, in the course I teach on youth and media at the USC Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism.
When media are crafted sensitively, designed to meet children where they’re at and loaded with meaningful lessons, then young children can demonstrate significant learning outcomes.
Maybe this was in the back of my head when my colleagues at the Center for Scholars & Storytellers and I accepted an important challenge…
Context
Barbie, a brand first-famous for inventing 11.5-inch fashion dolls, has evolved into a cultural icon, and after 60+ years, was still the number one toy property in the world in 2020. Over the years, Barbie has had over 200 careers, nine body types, 35 skin tones, and 94 hairstyles. The brand’s slogan proudly declares: You Can Be Anything.
So, when a team of NYU researchers published data suggesting that some young children can’t be anything, and implicated stereotypes as a major reason why, Barbie took notice. The research found that, by the age of 6, many children begin to embrace limiting beliefs, specifically:
Girls stop believing that they are as smart as boys
Boys stop believing that they are as kind as girls
Girls avoid demonstrating their leadership skills
Girls and boys doubt that girls can be anything
Internalizing these beliefs can lead children to marginalize themselves and others. And there goes everyone’s chance to be anything.
Barbie labeled the space between children’s limitless potential and their limiting beliefs “The Dream Gap.” And to help close it, Barbie funds partner organizations impacting girls directly, inspires girls through meaningful content, highlights inspirational women through their role models program, and now has commissioned a stereotype-defying curriculum.
That’s where we came in.
Barbie Dream Gap Curriculum — The Original
My colleagues and I designed the Barbie Dream Gap Curriculum by working backward. Our goal was to disrupt young children’s trajectories towards both stereotyping others by gender and denying themselves the opportunity to be their whole selves. Which “tools” would young children need in their “toolboxes” in order to get there?
First, we reasoned, they would need to feel empowered to authentically contribute. Lesson 1: Participation. Second, they would need to believe in their ability to learn and improve through effort. Lesson 2: Growth Mindset. Third, they would need to expect challenges and recover from setbacks. Lesson 3: Resilience. Fourth, they would need to celebrate their unique talents and interests. Lesson 4: Multiple Intelligences. Fifth, they would need to picture themselves in numerous and stereotype-defying occupations. Lesson 5: Careers. Sixth, they would need to step into their power. Lesson 6: Leadership.
To explicitly push back against harmful stereotypes, not only pertaining to gender but also to race/ethnicity, class, nationality, and ability, we incorporated the stories of diverse role models, including: Jovita Idár, Helen Keller, Junko Tabei, Fred Rogers, Maggie Lena Walker, and Annie Dodge Wauneka.
Our curriculum organically intersected with multiple social and emotional learning (SEL) goals. Research shows that universal, school-based SEL programs benefit K-12 students across a variety of measures in the short- and long-term. So, we aligned our curriculum to SEL standards.
We formatted the curriculum as a K-2 teacher-facing collection of lesson plans, worksheets, and newsletters, with an original, live-action video and a poster accompanying each lesson.
In our 2019 pilot in El Segundo, California, the curriculum demonstrated promising results. Independent evaluators conducted a classic experiment, collecting pre- and post-test data from intervention and control groups. Findings showed that the curriculum:
Expanded children’s interest in more careers
Increased all girls’ beliefs that anyone could be a good leader
Inspired more 2nd grade girls to identify females as “really really smart” and to say YES to the question, “Do you think you can be anything?”
To say I was excited would be putting it mildly. First, El Segundo. Next, the world!
Then a little something unexpected happened in 2020... Perhaps you can recall…
Barbie Dream Gap Curriculum — Take Two
Barbie challenged us to adapt the curriculum for online learning. In digital form, the lessons could reach remote and hybrid learners as well as support diverse educators.
We reimagined our curriculum as a video series featuring Community Club, an after-school club whose members yearn to help people and animals and fix things in their communities. Community Club meets online, via a video conferencing platform like Zoom -- and the students viewing the content just stumbled into its meeting. Welcome to Community Club! We split each lesson (aka, each Community Club meeting) across three videos, separated by two interactive opportunities where students could answer a question by clicking on an icon.
Channeling my inner Rogers, I played Dr. Rachel Klein, the club’s warm-and-fuzzy advisor. In that role, I facilitated many of the same activities as our original lesson plans. I also created three characters to populate Community Club’s membership:
Jada, an inquisitive, independent third-grader who identifies as a Chinese-American girl and manages anxiety;
Lulu, a thoughtful, methodical third-grader who identifies as a Black girl and as “quiet,” or introverted; and
Mateo, a gentle, collaborative third-grader who identifies as a Mexican-American boy and lives with hearing loss.
These characters were brought to life by bespoke hand and rod puppets, each operated by a puppeteer and separately voiced by an actor whose identity matched that of the character.
Educators and students nationwide piloted the curriculum this spring — thank you to participating schools in Boston, Chicago, and Austin! So far, we’ve gotten lots of positive feedback.
“I felt that the lesson was well thought out and kid friendly.”
“Loved the video with the student leader. It is so helpful for students to see the ideas in action. Also, really wonderful for them to see themselves reflected in the people in the video.”
“It was very beneficial how the puppets shared how they cope with differences, hearing loss and anxious thoughts.”
We will continue piloting the curriculum this summer — thank you to participating after-school organizations in South Carolina! — and in the fall. We look forward to combing through the data and discovering whether/how this multimedia experience serves children.
As to bridging The Dream Gap… Mr. Rogers once said, “There's a world of difference between insisting on someone's doing something and establishing an atmosphere in which that person can grow into wanting to do it.”
So, our work does not end at curriculum. Here’s to all of us, in our own unique ways, establishing an atmosphere, a society, a world that inspires everyone to want to unlock opportunity — so our kids can be anything.
Principal, Laurel Felt Consulting
Lecturer, USC Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism
Senior Fellow, Center for Scholars and Storytellers
P.S. This project was a labor of love for so many people!!! To quote Fred Rogers, “I hope you're proud of yourself for the times you've said "yes," when all it meant was extra work for you and was seemingly helpful only to someone else." I am beyond grateful and humbled by your brilliance.
THANK YOU:
Maggie Chieffo, Yalda T. Uhls, Hannah Demetor, Kathryn Lenihan, Kim Wilson, Colleen Russo Johnson, Josanne Buchanan, Rosie Molinary, Mary Faber, Benari Poulten, Hand to Mouth Creative, Jenn Guptill, Katie O’Brien, Jaz Nannini, Students of Spring 2021 COMM 457, Sarah Berman, Chris Patstone, Miles Taber, Karen Barazza, Jenny W. Chan, Whitney Watters, Adam Blau, Gaby Moreno, Deborah S. Craig, Rebecca Naomi Jones, Nir Liebenthal, Page Spencer, Caroline Fung, Annie Meyers, Zach Stuckelman, Sina Zakeri, Anita Narkhede, Arelyse Campos, Rebeca Ruiz, Tina Garoosi, Gillian Jewell, Jill Shinderman, Kat O’Brien, Corinne, Everett, Mike Colby, Sasha, Andrea Merfeld, Lexi, Randi Ralph, Molly, Annie, Cyndi Otteson, Quinn, Ellie Chadwick, Richie, Kimmi Berlin, Ari, Diomaris Safi, Mila, Miry Whitehill, Ruben, Rebecca Fox, Ruthie, Muriel, Gardenia Spiegel, Koa, Rachel Deano, Jada.
How Narratives in Video Games Affect Children and Adolescents
As the video game industry grows, so does the need to understand its consumers and investigate its content on those consumers. Research suggests that over 90% of children and adolescents in America play video games and that the frequency of video gaming increases around age 18, peaking in an individual’s twenties.
Video games offer insight into individual characteristics and judgment alongside offering advantages in learning environments and social education as they expose players to modeling techniques through rehearsal and reinforcement of social behaviors found through the games’ narratives. These themes can vary greatly from game to game and their content has been shown to impact our cognition and behavior.
Adventuring has a powerful effect on individuals’ perspectives and psyche. Games teach us morals and allow us to explore aspects of ourselves that would otherwise be unexplored.
“A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage.”
Allowing players the ability to project certain aspects of their psychological attributes to their avatars allows them to become the hero and experience themselves in a world where they can achieve feats beyond what is possible in their real lives. This allows a sort of power of resilience within a player without them being aware of the positive cognitive effects that are occurring as they triumph through lands and save the world from utter disaster.
Many video games are essentially moving narratives where the player gets to make decisions about what a character does next in the game. This essentially creates a virtual reality where players can learn from mistakes made in the game or learn more about themselves through the character they bring to life. Some games have fixed narratives, but increasingly, games are allowing for a more autonomous and whole version of the characters in their games. Games like “Skyrim” and “World of Warcraft” allow players to decide throughout the game whether to take a virtuous path of heroism, or a darker path of thievery, or assassination, along with other characteristics.
Basically, these games allow you to play someone you never could be in real life and this element of choice is what makes video games such an intriguing form of media. I believe Grizzard et al. 2014 said it best: “In narrative media, viewers simply watch moral decisions being made by others, but in video games, players often make the decision to be moral (or immoral).” It is also what makes researching them so complicated and intertwined. Researchers have found that individuals who engage in prosocial gameplay tend to have more prosocial thoughts and behaviors and that individuals who play more violent narratives tend to have an increase of aggressive and hostile behavior and thoughts. Ambiguous games present a unique problem and discussion for researchers.
Morality and Character Content
Narrative content is important to gameplay and to the outside implications of thoughts and actions caused by video games. Not all games are complicated narratives per se and in researching the direct effects of video games on individuals it is hard to have them play a game with a fully immersive and detailed world. So, equally important to narrative content is the character being played in the game. Research has found that the context in which you play a specific character can have direct effects on empathy and general affect.
Morality presents a different viewpoint on aggression and violence within video games. Questions of morality can be intense, and our actions can divide us. Morality asks us if it is okay to kill one to save the many. It asks if violence is acceptable to save an innocent. It also makes video games with protagonists that engage in aggressive behaviors to save the world a question of morality that we should allow individuals to consume. Could it be that a moral high ground and virtuous narrative could mitigate the effects of hostile and antisocial intent?
In fact, research has shown that prosocial concepts can mitigate the effects of violence in video games. Studies have shown that video games could be an important outlet for reflection based upon moral decisions rehearsed in the game and that oftentimes the feeling of guilt can mediate between violent video gameplay and the overall salience of a player.
Essentially, this means that while moral violations occurred through violence, there was no increase in hostile behavior or aggressive thinking shown after the violent video game was played. This could be due to the idea that we justify the violence in the name of moral high ground or simply that the context provided more access to prosocial thought (saving the world) and thus negated access to antisocial and aggressive thoughts.
All of this information can be used by both parents and content creators alike to make smart choices for their kids and reflect on the games we all love and play.
Actionable Insights
Here are Actionable Insights for Parents and Video Game Narratives:
Read the synopsis of a game before gifting a game to a child/teen (check the ratings as well).
Have discussions with your child about the actions their characters take in each game and investigate the moral dilemmas that might appear. Question the motives of each character including NPCs.
Encourage playing games with diverse characters and prosocial narratives.
Here are Actionable Insights for Content Creators of Video Games:
Develop a variety of characters with diverse positions within games and question the motives of each of your characters.
Develop stories with narratives that help users question the world.
Ask yourself:
What is the purpose of this character?
What is my audience/age range for this character?
Do my characters represent the diverse population of my audience?
Michelle Leccese, MA Psychology
Q&A with a Mental Health Professional: Vicki Harrison, MSW
Vicki Harrison, MSW
We asked teens from around the United States to anonymously send us questions that they would like to be answered by a mental health professional. Below, Vicki Harrison, MSW, Program Director for Stanford Psychiatry’s Center for Youth Mental Health & Wellbeing, thoughtfully answers some of these questions.
1. How do you approach someone you think needs help?
Start by listening. Reach out with simple phrases like “I’m worried about you. Is there anything I can do to help?” or “I’m here for you if you ever want to talk.” This can start over text or chat if that feels easier. If they open up, be an active listener, really letting them share and not jumping in right away with suggestions and solutions.
2. What is the best advice to give to our friends who might be experiencing depression other than telling them to go see the psychiatrist?
Start with offering validation and empathy before giving advice. Let them know you believe their feelings are real and that they deserve to feel better. Offering to connect them with a trusted teacher, a counselor or with an anonymous peer support line like Teenline could help. If you have been through something similar, sharing your experience and what helped you or didn’t help you can be a support to someone who is struggling.
3. How do I know if I need help?
If you are unsure whether you could benefit from outside help, don’t hesitate to ask. Some young people tell us they don’t feel like their problems are “serious enough” to be worthy of professional help, thinking it is reserved for others. Everyone deserves the opportunity to express their feelings, seek help and to feel supported, no matter how large or small the challenge. There is no magic threshold of symptoms that you first need to cross. In fact, addressing problems early is precisely how you prevent them from getting worse and will give you better chances for improving more quickly. Sometimes simply having one or two conversations with a trusted adult, peer or a mental health professional can be all you need to work through difficult feelings.
4. How do I tell my parents if I feel like I have depression or a mental health disorder?
Asking for help can be incredibly scary. There is still a lot of stigma around mental health and this can lead us to feel ashamed to speak up or somehow like asking for help is a sign of weakness or failure. The stigma comes from misguided messages from our cultures and histories that we’ve internalized and thus impose upon ourselves and our families. The truth is, asking for help is incredibly brave. And although it’s scary, telling someone what you are feeling can feel like a weight off of your shoulders. Saying the words out loud helps to externalize the feelings, getting them out in the open where you can more easily work through them with the support of someone who cares about you. If you don’t feel like you are getting the support you want from your parents, try talking to a trusted teacher or counselor at school or someone in your faith community who you think might be willing to listen without judgment.
5. How can you explain the true effects of mental illness to someone who doesn't experience it themselves?
It can be hard to explain this and for others to truly relate. Mental health professionals can help explain symptoms and impacts to family members because they have a lot of experience doing so. Trusted resources like NAMI offer a lot of resources including videos and written descriptions of mental health symptoms. Another option is to point to articles or online communities where people with lived experience of mental illness have written about their stories in beautiful and descriptive ways. Examples of these include The Mighty and TeenzTalk.
6. How can I feel like I’m doing something important?
This is such a great question for all of us to ask ourselves. Finding meaning and purpose in your life goes hand in hand with mental wellness. And research shows that giving to others through self-less acts boosts both mental and physical health. More and more, the prevailing cultural narrative seems to reinforce a very narrow view of what happiness and fulfillment look like. Yet what we feel connected to and driven by is unique to each and every one of us and those who simply seek out status, power or wealth often end up feeling unfulfilled. So don’t be afraid to try out new things, especially those that serve others. Grounding yourself in a higher purpose and/or finding and pursuing what motivates you can serve as an anchor and motivating force, especially during periods of struggle.
Vicki Harrison, MSW has over twenty years of experience working within the public health, education and mental health sectors developing innovative, community-based programs at the local, state and national levels. As Program Director for Stanford Psychiatry’s Center for Youth Mental Health & Wellbeing, she implements a broad portfolio of community-based projects promoting wellbeing, early intervention and increased access to mental health services for young people ages 12-25. This includes allcove - a first of its kind integrated youth mental health model in the U.S. and a national Media and Mental Health Initiative, partnering with the media, mental health and technology sectors to enhance the positive impact of media on youth mental health and wellbeing. She also serves as a founding member of the TikTok Content Advisory Council.
Q&A with a Mental Health Professional: Maryam Kia-Keating, Ph.D.
Maryam Kia-Keating, Ph.D.
We asked teens from around the United States to anonymously send us questions that they would like to be answered by a mental health professional. Below, Maryam Kia-Keating, Ph.D., a Professor of Clinical Psychology at the University of California, Santa Barbara (UCSB), thoughtfully answers many of these questions.
1. What’s the best path to take to help mental health?
If you suddenly had to run in a race, you would be so relieved, and have an easier time, if you had been exercising and training all along, up to that minute. In fact, instead of worrying, or being overwhelmed, you might think to yourself, “I’m ready for this!” Stressful events in life are like that sudden race: they aren’t predictable in terms of timing, but they are predictably going to happen, in that all of us have to be ready to face significantly stressful life events. The more prepared you are ahead of time for the bumps in the road, the better. And the more you “stay in shape” with your mental health, the easier it is to get through the parts of life that sometimes feel more like an endless and exhausting uphill climb, than a bump. The best path to take to help mental health is by having your mental health toolkit ready. Here are five key tips:
Find and nurture your relationships and support systems.
Make it a priority to find and then regularly participate in activities that bring you joy and meaning.
When possible, minimize your exposure to extreme stress, such as monitoring how much you watch media content that includes violence or other upsetting news items.
Practice mindfulness.
Take care of your physical health by eating healthy, getting regular exercise, and avoiding harmful substances.
2. How do you get diagnosed with a mental health disorder? What does the process look like?
If you are concerned about your mental health, want to get a mental health check-up, or just want some support, you might seek out a formal appointment with a counselor/therapist, psychologist, or psychiatrist. These licensed professionals can diagnose you with a mental health disorder once they have completed an in-depth evaluation of your symptoms. In the U.S., mental health professionals use a manual known as the DSM-5 which provides the standard classification system to diagnose a mental health disorder. Just like anytime you see the doctor, they will do their best to gather information about what you are experiencing, and how it is impacting your life, as well as what other factors may be at play. Usually, that means asking you a lot of questions, and sometimes it also means having you fill out some questionnaires.
3. How do you know if it’s just a phase or if you actually have a mental health disorder?
A licensed mental health professional is the best person to help you sort out whether something is just a ‘phase’ and/or if you have a mental health disorder. But remember, just because you get diagnosed with something doesn’t mean you will have it forever – it could technically be ‘just a phase’ too. Just like any illness, you are capable of healing! In order to figure out what’s going on for you, you might be inclined to start with a Google search BUT it’s important to not just rely on what you read on the internet for several reasons. First of all, you can run into inaccurate information there. Second of all, once you start reading, it’s common for people to feel like they might have every condition they read about even when they don’t (commonly known as “medical student syndrome”). Third of all, seeking out proper support early can only be helpful in preventing a mental health disorder. So there’s really a lot of reasons to get a professional evaluation, and assistance to help you through a difficult “phase,” no matter how short or long it lasts.
4. How do I know if I have depression?
Typically, you’ll notice that your mood is low for most of the day, nearly every day. You’ll also experience some related symptoms such as a change in your appetite, energy, thought process, ability to concentrate or make decisions, and/or ability to experience pleasure in things you used to enjoy. Sadness is a normal part of life, and in many cultures, it’s encouraged to be embraced as a tool that can help you reflect and bring you guidance. However, if these symptoms are getting in the way of your functioning, lasting for longer than two weeks, or are accompanied by thoughts about hurting yourself, you should immediately tell someone supportive in your life, and seek treatment from a licensed mental health professional and/or a medical provider.
5. How do I deal with nighttime anxiety?
It’s always helpful to get support from loved ones. Licensed mental health professionals can guide you in coping with nighttime anxiety. Some methods that tend to be useful in addressing anxiety include 1) creating a calming nighttime ritual (also making sure to “unplug” from devices early), 2) having a daily meditation or mindfulness practice that helps keep you grounded and provides you with some breathing techniques, 3) exercising consistently which has benefits for your body from the inside out, and 4) avoiding substances that can increase your anxiety, including caffeine, and sugar.
6. How can you prevent anxiety from taking over your daily life? How do you contact a therapist for anxiety issues?
The best trick is to just keep living, and give yourself that extra push to get through activities that your anxiety tries to get you to stop. The more you avoid activities, people, or places that make you anxious, the more the anxiety stays rather than dissipates. So, instead, commit to yourself that you will continue to embrace and seek life’s adventures whether or not your anxiety is coming with you on that journey. Accept that it might be there sometimes but know that it is most likely to go down over time, especially with anything you practice and have repeated exposure to. Seek help from a mental health professional for guidance and support in dealing with your anxiety – therapy can be incredibly useful for people who experience anxiety and know that the work you do for a short amount of time in therapy can last a lifetime. You can get a referral from your primary care provider, or look over a list of providers and directly contact one of the mental health professionals to schedule an appointment via phone or email, depending on what contact information they offer. Typically, providers will list their areas of expertise, so look for someone who lists anxiety as one of the issues they treat.
7. How do I know if I have gender dysphoria?
According to the DSM-5, gender dysphoria is defined as clinically significant distress or impairment related to a marked incongruence between your expressed gender (i.e., how you experience your gender) and your assigned gender (i.e., what your gender assignment was at birth) for at least 6 months. You also have to experience several other criteria, including a strong desire to be of another gender, which might include the strong desire to change primary and/or secondary sex characteristics, to officially receive the diagnosis of gender dysphoria. It can be helpful to seek support from an affirmative, licensed mental health professional for support, especially if you are experiencing significant distress or impairment (such as in relationships, school, or work) in your functioning.
8. How can I stop doing self-harm?
It’s important to recognize that self-harm is never going to provide you with a lasting solution, and it could ultimately cause you some serious consequences, so it’s great that you are motivated to stop. Seeking help and getting appropriate treatment from a licensed mental health professional can help you learn some healthy ways to cope, emotion regulation strategies, how to tolerate distress, how to improve your relationships, and mindfulness skills. These kinds of strategies can help support you to stop self-harm, and to prioritize self-care and self-compassion.
9. What are some distinct differences between ADHD and Autism?
There’s a lot of overlap and researchers are still trying to better understand the relationship between ADHD and Autism. It’s notable that approximately 30-80% of children with Autism also meet criteria for ADHD, and 20-50% of children with ADHD also meet criteria for Autism, so you can see that the two issues can go hand-in-hand. Social skills, language delays, and attention problems can impact people with either diagnosis. That said, someone with ADHD might be more likely to have difficulties with sustained attention, difficulties with organizing tasks or activities, high activity level, impulse regulation, or forgetfulness. Someone with Autism, on the other hand, may be more likely to experience difficulties in social interactions and communication, difficulties maintaining relationships, repetitive behaviors, and restricted interests.
10. How do I know the difference between having ADHD and just being lazy?
Most of us feel lazy at one time or another. Some of that feeling might relate to exhaustion, boredom, lack of motivation, or not enough reward to outweigh the draw of doing nothing. The main difference is that someone with ADHD (which only has a prevalence rate of 7-12%), has impaired executive functioning, and, at a neurobiological level, is experiencing difficulties with planning, organizing, and managing their impulses. Either way, if you are struggling with some of these tasks, it’s always a good step to get professional support in order to not only sort out the causes, but also find some solutions together.
11. How do I know if I have an eating disorder?
There are a number of different ways in which eating disorders will manifest themselves—including restricting food intake, excessive exercise, binging, purging, preoccupation with food, and feelings of loss of control about eating. The bottom line is that it relates to an unhealthy relationship with food and your body, and can include unhealthy behavior patterns, low self-esteem and self-worth, and difficulties in relationships. Engaging in disordered eating patterns can have long-term, severe negative health consequences. Thus, it is especially important to check with both a medical and licensed mental health professional to assess and get treatment for your health and mental health related to eating, nutrition, and learning healthy patterns.
12. Does Bipolar Disorder affect everyone the same way, with the same extent of highs and lows?
Symptoms and severity of Bipolar Disorder can vary quite a bit. Some people have years without symptoms. Some people can experience rapid shifts between highs and lows. Although genetics play a part, studies of identical twins demonstrate that genetics don’t fully determining the outcomes – one identical twin might have Bipolar Disorder while the other does not. If left untreated, Bipolar Disorder can get worse. It’s best to seek help from a licensed psychologist or psychiatrist who can provide treatment and guidance towards creating a long-lasting, consistent healthy lifestyle.
Maryam Kia-Keating, Ph.D. is a Professor of Clinical Psychology at the University of California, Santa Barbara (UCSB), where she oversees the Trauma & Adversity, Resilience & Prevention (TARP) research lab. She is a Licensed Clinical Psychologist and a key collaborator with the Center for Scholars & Storytellers. Her education and training were completed at Dartmouth College, Yale University, Harvard University, Boston University, and the University of California, San Diego. Her interviews on ways to protect mental health and promote resilience have been included in outlets with high volume readerships, including the Washington Post, ABC news, CNN, and Self Magazine. Her website is www.kiakeating.com and she is on Twitter @drkiakeating.
What Should an Alcohol Problem Look Like On-Screen?
Take a moment to picture someone who has a problem with alcohol. A “drinking problem.”
Got it?
If your notion of “drinking problems” is informed mostly by film, chances are the person you just pictured meets a couple of common stereotypes. Their drinking is visibly raucous (the life of the party!), or visibly lonely (alone in their basement). Or maybe their life is quite palpably falling apart: their family is worried, their friends are watchful, their employer is ticked off.
If, on the other hand, your awareness goes deeper than that – if you have personal familiarity with “drinking problems”– perhaps you pictured someone you know. Maybe you pictured the distinctly affected way that your sister gazed at you, gazed blearily at the world, after a couple of drinks. Maybe you remembered how your best friend in college would sink into a corner, sink into some unknowable reality, bottle in hand. Or maybe you grabbed a snapshot of yourself – the first time that you didn’t study quite hard enough for a test because you were hungover. That time when you hurt a friend’s feelings while drunk. The time you opted out of doing something important, something meaningful, something way more you – because hitting the bars sounded like more fun.
Maybe you remember asking yourself: Does she have a problem? Do I have a problem? before quickly dismissing it.
After all, your drinking – her drinking – most drinking – doesn’t look like “problem drinking” in the movies. For that reason, we don’t often confront it. As storytellers, it’s up to us to change the narrative, to change what people picture when they picture an alcohol problem.
Alcohol use disorder: an invisible problem
It may seem counterintuitive to refer to alcohol use disorder, or AUD, as “invisible.” After all, alcohol is a key player in thousands of car crashes, deaths, and sexual assaults annually. The CDC estimates that the cost of excessive alcohol use is 249 billion dollars every year. Far from being “invisible,” alcohol use disorder seems like one of the most obvious problems we have. (Although, in 2021, it’s facing stiff competition.)
In part, that’s true: many signs of alcohol use disorder are obvious. The Diagnostic & Statistical Manual – 5, as well as two of the most commonly used screeners for AUD - the CAGE and the AUDIT - include visible, clear-cut indicators of problem drinking. Things like: People criticizing drinking. People expressing concern. Drinking first thing in the morning. Injuring oneself or others while drinking. Failing to fulfill major obligations. These are visible signs that someone has a “drinking problem.”
And yet, these screening tools include just as many symptoms of alcohol use disorder that are totally invisible. For example, there’s the feeling you need to cut down. There’s the desire to cut down, followed by unsuccessful attempts. Sometimes those attempts are unsuccessful due to strong desires, urges, or cravings. (And it’s not always “the shakes”; sometimes, these cravings are purely psychological.) There’s telling yourself, “I won’t,” followed by “maybe I will.” There’s saying “Maybe just one,” followed by maybe just three. And there’s guilt about drinking – So. Much. Guilt.
For some, there’s the feeling of being less oneself while drunk: the feeling that a small part of oneself has been lost to the subtle erasure afforded by alcohol. Sometimes, this erasure of self is welcome: a little less perfectionistic. A little less attached to expectations. Sometimes, it’s less welcome, as the activities that we used to prioritize are quietly displaced by alcohol.
Here’s my point: The empirical criteria at the heart of alcohol use disorder are, quite often, invisible. On-screen, the pre-game or the frat party might be likely habitat for AUD, but this disorder can just as easily inhabit a quiet night of board games, a dinner date with mom or dad, or a weekend with a good book. If you’re a storyteller, this raises important questions: How do we tell a truer story about alcohol use disorder? How do we make the invisible visible?
Actionable insights: Making the invisible visible
Here are empirically supported ways to tell a truer story, and to help your audience spot the signs of alcohol use disorder in themselves.
Obsessing: After a character drinks – regardless of whether the drinking was uneventful or disastrous – they are soon eager to drink again. They are already thinking about the next opportunity to drink. This is especially key in young characters, who may not have constant access to alcohol. It’s not always about drinking regularly; sometimes, it’s about thinking about drinking regularly.
Wondering: In thinking about her alcohol use, a character asks herself, Is this normal? Could my drinking be a problem? Perhaps she floats this idea by others. It isn’t often that people without a drinking problem repeatedly wonder if they do, in fact, have a problem.
Disappearing: When a character drinks, his countenance and behavior is significantly different from when he is sober. He seems to be seeking a break from simply being himself. He craves permission to be someone different. Something fundamental to the character has vanished, and he is happy to see it go.
Erasure: Think about the long-term consequences of disappearing, of shooing away these fundamental pieces of oneself. Over time, it culminates into a less colorful, less varied, and less individualized life. In the context of a character’s timeline, the introduction of alcohol might correspond with a gradual diminishing of self.
Getting personal
Remember that friend who sinks into the corner? The sister whose hazy eyes betray that, inside, a fundamental piece of herself has drifted away?
That was me.
Within six months of my first drink, I suspected that I had a problem. Four years later, I got help. In between, I told myself that I couldn’t possibly have a problem. I just couldn’t. Drinking problems are easy to spot, I thought, reflecting on the portrayals of problem use I’d seen in books and on screen. That’s not me.
That’s what the media had taught me: drinking problems are obvious. They are sometimes wild. They are, at the least, a little messy. And so, I thought, the college student voluntarily reading her fifth empirical article that evening, getting up intermittently to refill her glass, could not possibly have a problem.
But I could. I did. And if I’d ever seen a relatable portrayal of alcohol use disorder on-screen, maybe I would have done something about it sooner. Maybe the cognitive dissonance would have caught up to me a little quicker. It’s time to give your audience that chance. Teach them something different about alcohol use disorder.
Anna Joliff, she/her/hers, MS Counseling Psychology
Research Specialist for the Social Media and Adolescent Health Research Team (SMAHRT)
How to Support Mental Health in People with Autism
A new study suggests that autistic individuals have higher levels of stress and depression when they don’t feel accepted.
This article originally appeared on Greater Good, the online magazine of the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley.
Mental health among autistic individuals is an underdeveloped area of research—a situation that many autistic people are advocating to change. This is especially crucial since rates of depression and thoughts of suicide are higher among autistic people than in the general population.
But why would there be a stark difference in the mental health and well-being of autistic people compared to “neurotypical” people? A recent study, one of the few looking at this issue, set out to examine the importance of acceptance.
One hundred eleven autistic individuals in the U.K. filled out online surveys about their levels of acceptance—from themselves and society—and their depression, anxiety, and stress. Authentic autism acceptance would imply “an individual feeling accepted or appreciated as an autistic person, with autism positively recognized and accepted by others and the self as an integral part of that individual,” the study explained.
The results? As predicted, those who felt less accepted by others and by themselves showed higher levels of depression and stress.
When asked about societal acceptance, 43 percent of participants said they did not feel accepted by society in general, and 48 percent said they did not feel accepted sometimes.
In describing their experiences of not feeling accepted, respondents most often alluded to “misunderstandings and misconceptions about autism, experiences of masking/camouflaging,” and other issues, the study authors report. Masking and camouflaging refer to an autistic person making efforts to “pass” as neurotypical and the stress and exhaustion that result from that. It makes sense that feeling pressured to hide a part of yourself would result in higher stress and a tendency toward depression, given how critical social relationships and a sense of belonging are to well-being.
On the other hand, there was no significant link between autism acceptance and anxiety. The researchers postulate that anxiety can come from a host of sources for the autistic person; acceptance may not be as primary as, for example, the sensory sensitivities that can accompany autism.
So how can we support the mental health of autistic people?
According to the researchers, one factor that can contribute to acceptance is how we think about autism—in particular, whether we embrace the “neurodiversity” framework and a social model of disability, as opposed to a medical one. Neurodiversity is a way of conceptualizing mental differences as part of natural human diversity, as opposed to pathologizing some neurological makeups (such as autism) as abnormal. The social model of disability focuses on systemic factors within society that disadvantage particular people, whereas a medical model sees certain people as intrinsically, biologically disabled when they differ from a perceived norm.
The results of this study also indicate that we should pay greater attention to the stressful experience of “masking,” and ways that friends, colleagues, acquaintances, and family members can deepen their understanding of the autistic experience and help autistics feel seen for who they are.
A great place to start is to follow the #ActuallyAutistic hashtag on Twitter (an online social media movement whereby autistic voices are amplified with the slogan “nothing about us without us”), as well as the blog of autistic scholar and activist Nick Walker and my own The Neurodiversity Project. Learning about topics such as sensory sensitivities, heightened empathy (as opposed to lessened), and other unique autistic experiences can go a long way in understanding autistic people in our lives.
This particular study is noteworthy for surveying autistic individuals, as opposed to simply reporting professionals’ views of them. With greater self-acceptance and societal acceptance, autistic people may be able to foster a larger sense of belonging and agency, thereby reducing feelings of isolation, loneliness, and depression—all critical for mental health.
Author of the acclaimed book Divergent Mind
Creator of The Neurodiversity Project and The Interracial Project
This article originally appeared on Greater Good, the online magazine of the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley.
African American teens face mental health crisis but are less likely than whites to get treatment
This article originally appeared on The Conversation.
Black youth in the U.S. experience more illness, poverty, and discrimination than their white counterparts. These issues put them at higher risk for depression and other mental health problems. Yet Black youth are less likely to seek treatment. About 9% of them reported an episode of major depression in the past year, but less than half of those – about 40% – received treatment. By comparison, about 46% of white youth who reported an episode were treated for depressive symptoms.
Instead, some turn to suicide, now the second leading cause of death among Black children ages 10 to 19. That rate is rising faster for them than any other racial or ethnic group. Data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention show the rate of suicide attempts for Black adolescents rose 73% from 1991 to 2017.
With schools nationwide grappling with how to offer instruction to students, principals and teachers need to be reminded that Black children have endured a distinctive kind of trauma since the pandemic began. They have had a different experience. The shootings of George Floyd and Ahmaud Arbery – and what happened afterwards – are just two examples.
As an expert in child and adolescent psychology, I know that a multitude of barriers keep Black children, and their families, from receiving that treatment. They need help to deal with the pervasive poverty and racism that surrounds them.
The ‘crazy’ label
Studies suggest Black youth and their families may be less likely to identify their own mental health symptoms. If they do receive referrals for care, they may follow up less often than whites. Delays in seeking care can lead to negative consequences, including emergency psychiatric hospitalizations and non-compliance with treatment recommendations. These youngsters may then become adults with mental health issues that remain unaddressed.
Parents and caregivers should encourage treatment. But interviews with them done as part of one study revealed they sometimes obstruct the process. Many feared their child would be labeled “crazy.” Those caregivers, sensitive to social stigma, also relied on others in the community when deciding to pursue treatment for their sons. Sometimes they would receive support from those they spoke with; other times, they would not.
Because of discrimination and abuse, Blacks have good reason to distrust the mental health system. Health care disparities exist there just as they do in other health care domains. Black adolescents are less likely than white teens to be treated with beneficial psychiatric medications, and more likely than white teens to be hospitalized involuntarily. Other reports suggest Black youth with psychiatric disorders are more likely to be referred to the juvenile justice system, while white youth are more often referred for mental health treatment.
That same study found that schools were also pivotal, in both positive and negative ways. Some parents and caregivers said school staff validated their concerns and provided support. Others felt forced to seek services only because they believed their son would be expelled.
Stigmatizing mental illness
Researchers have found that Black adults, exposed to a police killing of an unarmed black citizen through media or word of mouth, had worse mental health. This includes an increased fear of victimization, diminished social trust and a revisiting of prior trauma.
Much the same seems true for Black adolescents. When a group of them aged 11 to 19 viewed traumatic events online – including viral videos of police shootings – they had higher rates of depressive and post-traumatic stress symptoms, including re-experiencing, avoidance, numbing, and hyperarousal. Experts have suggested that police violence be viewed as a public health issue, because each killing impacts individuals and communities both physiologically and emotionally. Each incident reminds Black youth that, in this country, their lives have been devalued.
One might consider the impact from the case of Ahmaud Arbery, a 25-year-old Black man shot to death in Glynn County, Georgia, last February. Three white men are charged in the killing. An attorney for one of them attempted to cast doubt on the character of Arbery, who reportedly had a previously diagnosed mental illness. The lead investigator in the case testified that Arbery suffered from hallucinations, though he was not undergoing treatment on the day of his death.
Hallucinations are actually relatively common in children and adolescents. Up to 13% of youth experience them. If Arbery had hallucinations, it appears they had little bearing on his killing, but those with mental health issues were further stigmatized.
With protests sweeping the nation calling for racial justice and defunding the police, I believe more funding to address disparities in mental health care for Black youth is critical. But merely investing in treatment is not enough. To support them and their families, we as a society must deal with stigma, cultural mistrust, systemic inequities and social supports.
Assistant Professor, Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Neurosciences, Wayne State University
This article originally appeared on The Conversation
How Adults Can Support the Mental Health of Black Children
Psychologist Riana Elyse Anderson explains how families can communicate about race and cope with racial stress and trauma.
This article originally appeared on Greater Good, the online magazine of the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley.
With his last breaths, George Floyd called out, “Momma!” before he was killed in Minneapolis. He was one of nearly 1,300 black people who have been killed by police in the last five years. They are two times more likely to be killed by police than white Americans.
Facing destructive policies and attitudes in the United States, mothers and fathers try to safeguard their black children from racism. This often takes the form of preparing them for bias and communicating the real threats to their lives from a history of othering that continues today. But it also involves highlighting how to draw from a well of strengths that black culture and black families—immediate, extended, and historical—possess.
To better understand this process, we interviewed Dr. Riana Elyse Anderson, clinical and community psychologist and professor of public health at the University of Michigan. Anderson developed Engaging, Managing, and Bonding through Race (EMBRace), a program to help families communicate about race, cope with racial stress and trauma, and build strong relationships and well-being. Below, she explains how black parents can support their children’s mental health, and their own.
Maryam Abdullah: Your research focuses on how black families use racial socialization to protect their children in the face of pervasive racial stress and trauma. What is racial socialization?
Riana Elyse Anderson: Socialization, generally, is the statements that parents are making to their children about how to think or behave in the world. Some common examples of that might be “Look both ways before you cross the street,” or “Don’t touch that iron. It’s hot.” For gender socialization, we’re familiar with suggestions of which sports to play between girls and boys, as a crude example.
Racial socialization is the behaviors and the attitudes being passed down from parent to child with respect to race in particular. Some of those might be wearing certain kente cloth if you’re going to celebrate Kwanzaa or if you’re going to the National African American Museum in Washington, D.C., to celebrate your culture. Those are some of the more positive ones. Unfortunately, we also have to think about “Keep your hands on 10 and 2,” “You can’t wear your hoodie in the store,” or “You have to work twice as hard to get half as far” as some of those elements that are part of “the talk,” the racial socialization talk.
MA: How does racial socialization help black children cope with racial stress?
REA: We’re talking to our children about what it is that mommy or daddy experienced or what they see in the world. We’re able to have that conversation between parent and child, rather than the children not really having a space to ask what’s going on and why so many people are upset or frustrated—or seeing people like them on the news either being snuffed out or arrested for uprising, and then wondering or just keeping it to themselves. That opens up lines of communication, and it doesn’t stop there.
After that line of communication opens up, we get to practice and talk through what it is that we would want to do as a parent or as a child—a series of coping strategies. Do I want to sit here on the couch? (which is totally fine if I want to do that). Do I want to go out and protest? Do I want to write a letter to someone? Do I want to not support a certain business? Now I have options of the things that I want to do, and I feel more efficacious in my ability to execute any of them because I’ve talked with my family about that.
Talking to our family, thinking about strategies, and supporting our children in their ability to execute those strategies is how racial socialization works.
MA: In EMBRace, children and parents work together on a variety of practices. Can you share one?
REA: We use a family tree exercise. Before we even meet with the family about their family tree, we ask them to do some digging. Tell us a bit about who your family members are, who your support system is, then go ahead and put that on this family tree.
Then, demonstrate on this family tree how big and resourceful your community, your garden, your village is. Now you’re seeing, OK, my grandma is with me, my aunts are with me—especially as a child, I can rely on all these people.
And even though I don’t know Michelle Obama, she feels like an auntie to me, so I’m going to put her on my [family] tree. We have a space for greater community influences. OK, Rosa Parks passed away before I was here, but I know that there are streets named after her in Detroit and she’s given a lot of support to black people like me, so I’m going to put her [on].
You start to understand there are people who have come before you and who will come after you who will continue this really rich tradition of who we are and how wonderful our people are. You’re now demonstrating and seeing that I have a whole community who has my back in a time where George Floyd’s life was taken from us in the most violent and visible way. To know that there are millions of people, who now count him as our brother and that he now has as his family, continuing on his legacy, speaks to what it is that we’re trying to do here within EMBRace. We have a whole group of people who are going to support you should you need us. You don’t have to take this racist event by yourself. You can come to your family and that family is an extended family.
MA: What’s important for parents to know about when and how to speak to their young children about racism?
REA: I want you to think about this concept of racial literacy that psychologist Dr. Howard C. Stevenson talks about. Racial literacy pretty much means you’re not going to give a Shakespearean novel to a three year old. You’re going to give an age-appropriate reading book or coloring book to that child, and you all are going to work up gradually to the understanding of what literacy means for their age. We don’t ask you to go beyond your child’s level.
When we’re saying we’re afraid to talk to our children about race, it’s not for them; it’s because we are afraid, if we’re being honest. We don’t know how to talk about it and we’re concerned. What we encourage in EMBRace is to think about your competency, rather than your content—to focus first on building your own skills, confidence, and resilience to stress in these conversations before talking with children.
Skills: Becoming more skillful at these kinds of interactions might involve preparation for and practice using inquiries or questions to ask our kids: “What did you notice?” or “How did that make you feel?”
Confidence: Confidence comes from practicing it more. Maybe that means you practice with yourself in the mirror like you do when you go to your job interview. Maybe you practice it with your loved one. You’re unpacking for yourself first.
Stress: If you go into it without having spoken about it, without thinking about what it means for yourself, you’re going to be highly stressed the entire time you talk to your child. But you can focus on “What are the things that are within my control when I talk to my child? Maybe I can’t change the entire police system, but I can help my child to navigate that one specific thing that they have going on. What can I do today?” That will reduce stress in that moment, along with practice and with inquiry-based questions.
Your child is never too young to have any discussion about it, but you don’t want them to have the most stressful and the most strenuous conversations. You’re the expert, you’re the parent, you already know what [the right level of conversation] is. It’s time for you to take your fear away from your child being the best that they can be.
MA: What further advice do you have for parents right now as they help their children cope with the trauma of current events?
REA: We’re thinking about this idea of “the talk.” Sometimes people have it once and they say, “Done. Great. Did my job.” Then they walk away.
If you think about how frequently you have to tell your child to pick up toys, buckle their safety belt, and clean up after themselves, we understand that having the racial talk once is not sufficient. So, yes, these events are current and, yes, it feels so imminent and so important that we have this conversation right now. There’s a lot going on in the media. There’s a lot going on that your children are hearing or experiencing and they have access to it in ways that years ago children would not have.
At this moment, you should be having conversations with your child. And next week when the protests have died down, you should continue having conversations with your child. And the month after that, you should continue. And weeks after that. At this point, the amount of content in books or media that is around you makes it possible to create a consistent environment. If that practice becomes consistent enough where you are bringing it up and you are letting them know this is an expectation you have for conversation, they will feel comfortable enough bringing it to you: “Mom, I noticed this.”
Use things in the environment, use things in your media, use things in books to ask your child what is it that they’re seeing, how can you support them through this, how do they feel about it?
MA: How can parents take care of their own well-being so they’re in the best position to help their kids?
REA: Our own well-being is compromised right now. We know that anxiety and depression are up three times the amount that they were in January. We are not doing well as a nation right now. If you need time as a parent to step away from this media and these types of conversations, remember that you are a human being, first and foremost—you’re not daddy or mommy first. You really are a human being who needs rest, restoration, self-care, love. There are tasks that parents have that are beyond description. You’re being asked to provide in ways that just defy the amount of energy you might have most days, especially in a stay-at-home-order situation where you are the go-to principal, teacher, nurse, etc.
Unless your child is so young that you cannot step away at all and it would be a physical danger for your child to be alone, if you need a moment to walk around the block or close a door, or to do something for yourself to engage in self-care, by all means, take it. As we’re starting to open up the community a bit more, if you need to create a small cluster of families with whom your child spends some time so that you can find some space and time on your own, by all means safely create that space. It is a cardinal and critical component of your child being well that you are well.
We’ve all heard the mask analogy. We’ve all experienced times where our behaviors can impact those of our children. We know that. It’s not just a saying; we really need you to be well, first and foremost. The practice I would really recommend is just to find time for yourself to carve out your wellness so that you can be the best parent that you can be for your child.
Developmental psychologist, Parenting Program Director of the Greater Good Science Center
This article originally appeared on Greater Good, the online magazine of the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley.
How Parents Can Support Their Transgender Teens
A new study shows that teens exploring their gender identity value simple acts of caring from their parents the most.
This article originally appeared on Greater Good, the online magazine of the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley.
When teenagers confide that they are transgender or uncertain about their gender identity, their parents may be unsure how to offer support.
To understand what types of family support transgender adolescents consider helpful, a Stanford research team asked 25 of them for their thoughts. The team also interviewed the teens’ parents.
The actions teens said they valued most were among the simplest, the researchers discovered. Their findings were published in March in the Journal of Adolescent Health.
Teens said they most appreciated having parents use their preferred name and pronoun, as well as knowing that their parents were emotionally available and listening to their concerns.
The teenagers usually rated their parents as more supportive than the parents rated themselves, said Tandy Aye, M.D., associate professor of pediatrics at Stanford Medicine and a pediatric endocrinologist at the Stanford Children’s Health Pediatric and Adolescent Gender Clinic. Aye is the senior author of the study.
“Even when parents are thinking that there is tension over gender identity, that parent-child relationship is still super important,” said Aye. She spoke with Stanford Medicine News about her research.
Erin Digitale: Set the stage for this study. What was previously known about the value of family support for transgender children?
Tandy Aye: Kristina Olson, a researcher in Seattle, has studied how important family support is for young kids going through gender transition or who are gender-expansive, meaning their gender identity doesn’t fit neatly into traditional “boy” or “girl” categories. If they have a supportive family from the beginning, children who are transgender and gender-expansive don’t experience higher rates of anxiety, depression, suicidal ideation, or suicide compared with cisgender peers. Without family support, all those mental health risks increase substantially. And having family use a child’s preferred name and pronoun has been shown to be protective.
ED: What was new about your approach?
TA: In our study, we were trying to classify the commonalities in families that were supportive. No one had really looked at both perspectives—of transgender teens and of their parents—to see what support looks like.
We used a combination of closed-ended survey questions and open-ended interviews to get information about what parents and teens were thinking, saying, and doing at pivotal times during the teenager’s gender journey. We interviewed parents and adolescents separately; it was very important that we got their views independently.
Among those who seek care at our gender clinic, we meet all sorts of families, and as we were doing this study, we realized that there’s support and there’s acceptance, but they don’t always go hand in hand. Hopefully, support leads to acceptance. We hope we can use what we discovered to help families who are not initially supportive learn how to support their teens.
ED: What did teens tell you about the support they got from their families?
TA: The adolescents always rated their parents to be more supportive than the parents rated themselves. I think that’s surprising, since there can be times of tension between parents and children during adolescence; it is a hard time for anyone. Our finding just shows how much teens really value their parents.
When we asked each group what actions they saw as showing support, parents talked about taking their teen to the gender clinic, getting them connected to resources. But what the majority of adolescents wanted most was for parents just to use their preferred name and pronoun. That validated what another study had found.
Parents come to us worried about what a gender clinic would do, with lots of medical questions and concerns about taking those first steps toward the medical aspects of a gender transition. But we found that what adolescents want is just for their families to acknowledge that they’re exploring their gender. If you can use their preferred name and pronoun, it affirms that you support that exploration.
ED: You also talked with parents about their internal reactions. What did they say?
TA: We asked the parents: While you’re being supportive, what’s the struggle you’re having? I don’t think researchers have asked that of the families of transgender or gender-questioning adolescents before. We found that even parents who are being very supportive are still internally having an adjustment.
The things that were the hardest adjustments for them, interestingly, included using the child’s preferred name and pronoun. The child’s original name was the name that parents really thought about choosing before their child was born, and for the child to say that’s not their name anymore was often challenging for the parents. As to the pronoun, parents would say, “We’ve used it for so long.”
But most parents we spoke to were hiding their adjustment because they wanted to be perceived by their children as being as supportive as possible. I think this is a key takeaway from the study, especially for mental health providers. When the parents come in with their child and say, “Yes, we’re supportive,” it’s important to acknowledge what parents are experiencing and talk to parents about providing services for them, to help them process their own emotions.
ED: What takeaways from this study will be helpful for other families that you see in the Stanford Children’s gender clinic?
TA: When families come to us, they’re often thinking about hormones, surgery, and how difficult all those treatments at end of their child’s transition are going to be. Typically we bring parents back to the moment they’re in and ask, “Where is your child now? Where are you?”
Sometimes parents say, “We’re just having difficulty using the child’s preferred name and pronoun.” We talk about acceptance and ask them to just practice using the name and pronoun at home, and acknowledge to the family how important that support is to their teen. We also let them know that their teen may argue against them or shut down, but that the love they have for them is not forgotten, and it’s still very important to foster that relationship.
Our new research adds to the evidence that transgender adolescents’ perception of their parents’ support may be the key protective factor in the teens’ mental health. It’s that perception of support that parents want to nurture. What can you do? It’s things like offering a hug, being there to listen. These are things anyone can do. They are free and fully reversible, whatever path the teen takes in their gender journey. There are no medical side effects to listening and giving hugs, or trying your child’s preferred name and pronoun. It’s all about helping the teen fully explore who they are.
Pediatrics science writer in the Office of Communications, Stanford University
This article originally appeared on Greater Good, the online magazine of the Greater Good Science Center at UC Berkeley.
We studied depression messages on YouTube videos and found dangerous and stigmatizing stereotypes prevail
This article originally appeared on The Conversation
Rates of depression have tripled in the U.S. since the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, and most recent estimates suggest these numbers remain elevated compared with pre-pandemic rates of mental health problems.
Even before the pandemic, depression was a leading source of disability, affecting over 17 million Americans each year. In a society where mental health education is not uniformly taught in schools, and where most people with depression go untreated, this is a recipe for disaster.
Psychologists have proposed ways to reform mental health care such as increasing access to care through telehealth. These actions are important. However, few experts have provided recommendations for how everyday citizens can flatten the depression curve by reducing stigma.
To better understand why depression stigma persists, my colleagues Ansley Bender and Jon Rottenberg and I examined how depression is depicted in the public sphere. In a recently published study, we systematically coded 327 YouTube videos on depression based on how they presented depression’s causes, prognosis and recommended treatment.
We hoped to gain insight into how one channel of social media presents information on depression. We learned that popular messages on YouTube may unknowingly perpetuate stigma and misconceptions about depression.
Stigma makes depression even harder
While we are no longer in the era of mental institutions and lobotomies, stigma toward depression is alive and well. In a 2018 study that provided 1,173 Americans with a vignette depicting someone with depression, 30% rated them as “violent,” and 20% supported the use of involuntary treatment. In everyday life, many people with depression hear declarations that “depression isn’t real” or “depressed people are just weak and lazy.” Public perception, it seems, either exaggerates or downplays the severity of depression – neither of which captures the truth.
Stigma like this worsens people’s ability to cope with and seek help for depression. For example, a review of 144 studies found that stigma considerably lowers the chance that a person with depression will seek treatment. This is concerning – especially for those who struggle with thoughts of suicide. Former U.S. surgeon general Vice Adm. Jerome M. Adams has called stigma the nation’s No. 1 killer.
This video provides a balanced and accurate depiction of depression.
YouTube says: Nature or nurture
We found that about 50% of the YouTube videos we viewed presented depression as a biological condition, like a “brain disease” or “chemical imbalance.” Over 40% discussed how situational circumstances like losing a job, experiencing abuse, or other life events can cause depression. But these messages are only partially true.
In most cases, depression is the result of a combination of biological, environmental and psychological circumstances, though just 8% of videos showed messaging consistent with this understanding. This is called the biopsychosocial model and is the consensus across clinical psychology and psychiatry. Framing depression as either biological or situational can narrow one’s view of potential treatments, so it is important to convey accurate information about the illness.
For instance, studies show when people are told that their depression is caused by a chemical imbalance, they are more likely to favor antidepressant treatments over other treatments. In other words, these messages may lead people to accidentally ignore other evidenced-based treatments that could help them, including therapy, exercise and lifestyle changes and social support.
The reality is that many treatments work for depression. It might, however, take time for those with depression to find the right treatment combination that works for them.
Further, while many believe that talking about biological origins decreases depression stigma, a review of studies actually found it can have the opposite effect. The story goes like this: When people view depression as a brain disease, they are less likely to blame someone for having depression. However, they are also more likely to view the person with depression as “different,” “dangerous” and “untreatable.” Studies show these beliefs may lessen people’s willingness to support or feel empathy for those with depression.
Regarding his period of depression, Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson states, “I wish I had someone at that time who could just pull me aside and [say], ‘Hey, it’s going to be OK.’”
YouTube says: Depression lasts for years…sometimes a lifetime
This message is partial truth, but the science suggests a more complicated picture. For some, depression can last for years depending on their life circumstances and access to treatment. For others, depression may last for only a few months. A 2011 review of depression studies concluded “the majority of individuals who experience depression will recover within one year.”
Making this distinction is important because it reminds us that depression is not permanent; even though depression, by its nature, can make us feel as if everything is hopeless and won’t improve … or if things do get better, they will inevitably get worse again.
It is important for all of us, in these times of uncertainty, isolation, and worry about our loved ones, to remind ourselves and one another that, with time and direct efforts to improve our mental health, we can persevere.
This video misleads by saying that dark chocolate can treat depression.
YouTube says: There are quick fixes
Some of the most irresponsible videos I watched suggested that depression can be “fixed” with a few “simple lifestyle hacks.” Such videos are reminiscent of overpromising self-help gurus. Quick-fix assertions like “just exercise, you’ll feel better” are not only invalidating but untrue. It’s concerning that these videos disguise themselves with scientific-sounding words.
The video “10 Foods to Eat to Fight Depression” shows how the public can be misled. With over 1 million views, the video states, “Dark chocolate can help raise serotonin levels in the body” to fight depression. Unfortunately for people with depression who love chocolate, this scientific-sounding claim is not accurate. Our diet of course affects our mood. But it is oversimplified to say that eating chocolate cures depression.
These messages could lead people to downplay and invalidate the severity of depression. Imagine how a person with depression would feel upon hearing “I know you can’t get out of bed, but have you tried eating a Snickers?”
The next time you or someone you know is feeling depressed, take it seriously. Although the times are tough, and circumstances might feel hopeless, depression is treatable and can be overcome. Check out the National Alliance on Mental Illness for more information.
Doctoral student, clinical psychology, University of South Florida
This article originally appeared on The Conversation