“Out of my mind” - a parent/caregiver review

As a parent of a child with multiple disabilities and another without, I approach this critique from both a personal and informed perspective. While my views may not align with the majority, they reflect the lived experience of many families navigating life with disabilities.

First, I commend Disney for centering a character with cerebral palsy and for normalizing the inclusion of disabled actors. It’s a significant step forward in representation and may pave the way for future films to approach disability with greater nuance. However, I believe there’s much room for improvement in how stories about disabilities are told.

A common issue with films aiming to promote inclusion is the tendency to portray disabled characters as exceptional, often to an unrealistic degree. In this film, the main character, Melody, is portrayed as extraordinarily intelligent, which is undoubtedly inspiring. However, as a parent of a child with developmental delays, I find this narrative problematic. It inadvertently sets an unattainable standard, ignoring the reality that many children with disabilities face profound challenges in achieving basic milestones such as speaking, walking, and eating. These accomplishments, though seemingly simple, are extraordinary victories for many children with disabilities. I wish films would celebrate these everyday achievements rather than defaulting to the "superhuman" narrative.

The film also missed an opportunity to authentically depict the role of family caregivers, particularly mothers. While it’s heartening to see a father portrayed as a caregiver, the reality is that the majority of caregiving often falls on mothers. This role is physically and emotionally taxing, leading to high rates of depression and chronic illness among caregivers. The depiction of caregiving felt overly sanitized, glossing over the relentless advocacy required to ensure children’s needs are met, such as the ongoing fight for their AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication) devices to be respected and understood.

The portrayal of sibling dynamics was another missed opportunity. The brief moments addressing the sibling’s experience felt superficial and failed to explore the complexities of growing up in a family where one child’s needs often overshadow the other’s. Many siblings of disabled children struggle with feelings of neglect, as parents juggle competing responsibilities. The film’s attempt to address this with a single scene lacked depth and nuance, ignoring the broader realities of these relationships.

Moreover, the depiction of school life and peer interactions felt forced, likely in service of the storyline but at the cost of authenticity. Schools are often pivotal in the lives of disabled children and their families, and more realistic portrayals could foster meaningful discussions about inclusion and support.

While the film has its relatable moments, and I acknowledge the challenges of representing such a diverse and complex community, I believe we are overdue for more substantive narratives. Disability is not a taboo or niche topic; it’s part of everyday life for many. In 2024, we need stories that go beyond the basic "hero complex" and instead show the genuine struggles, triumphs, and the kinds of support disabled families need from schools, teachers, and communities.

This shift in storytelling can only happen when creators begin engaging in genuine, meaningful conversations with disabled individuals and their families, and when they actively listen to the advocates who have long been sharing their insights and lived experiences. True representation requires not just visibility but also a commitment to authenticity—one that comes from valuing the voices of those who navigate these realities every day. Only by centering these perspectives can we move beyond surface-level narratives and create stories that reflect the full humanity and diversity of the disabled community.

While the actress did a commendable job and brought beauty and grace to her role, the storyline once again leaned on the trope of the "extraordinary disabled character" as a prerequisite for inclusion. It’s time for films to shift the focus to the everyday realities of disabled families and individuals and the ways society can better support and uplift them. We need deeper, more authentic conversations—because disability is not just about overcoming; it’s about living, thriving, and being understood in all its complexity.