SF Signal has a new-ish feature called Special
Needs in Strange Worlds, "…a
column focusing on celebrating disabilities in SFF. This column will focus on
book reviews, author interviews, and guest posts to highlight the beauty and
importance of our flaws."
Sarah Chorn's feature has helped inject
some much-needed diversity into SF/F. That said, the title and description
raise two concerns:
* use of the word "flaw"
risks portraying disabled people as inferior overall
* to the adult disability community,
"special needs" is code for "extraordinary" and
"other" in a way that performs a function opposite that of inclusivity. Think of it like this: how often are
the needs of disabled folks considered first
when it comes to Internet and tech accessibility? Something to consider.
During one of my frequent visits to SF
Signal, I noticed author Sharon Lynn Fisher's name pop up in one
of the SNiSW posts. I was like, "Oh, cool! A
sci-fi romance--wait a minute." I scratched my head. Something didn't seem
right.
Then I saw the book that was the focus
of the feature--THE OPHELIA PROPHECY. I had read that book. It's not a book
with disabled characters. Believe me, I'd have blogged about it by now if it
were. THE OPHELIA PROPHECY has biopunk and genetic engineering in a
post-apocalyptic setting, but the characters are as non-disabled as they come.
To Ms. Fisher's credit, she noted in
her post that "…none of the characters in my Tor book The
Ophelia Prophecy have a disability in the conventional
sense." And she reframes "special needs" as "physical
challenges" in order to more accurately represent the characters. But it
doesn't change the fact that her post lacks expected insights about disability.
With a feature like SNiSW, the author of the post can make a real difference.
For example, what kinds of insights might we have gained if a disabled reader had provided
commentary about how, in THE OPHELIA PROPHECY, the heroine's memory loss is a disability experience?
The post made me realize how easy it is
to inadvertently marginalize and erase books with disabled characters--even in
a feature designed to bring them to light.
The post is also a misfire considering there are about a
half-dozen SFRs that would have made a much better fit. Therefore, I
decided this is a good time to have a conversation about disabled characters in
SFR and what one actually looks like (or might look like). One, because readers
with disabilities deserve to see themselves reflected far more often in this
genre and two, SFR's relative youth means authors have a chance to chart a
course, almost from the start, to accurate, sensitive, and thoughtful
portrayals of disability.
