Australian & U.S. Films on Parenting: one a dirge, the other a dirigible
By Barbara Duncan (bjdnycla@aol.com)
Belinda's Baby (Australian)
Family Challenges (USA)
In preparation for the now postponed International Conference on Parenting with a Disability, Barbara Kolucki and I reviewed several films on the topic. Following are a summary of and some reactions to two of them: "Family Challenges: Parenting with a Disability," a 25 minute U.S. documentary about three families, and "Belinda's Baby," a 56 minute "warts and all" documentary shot over 18 months in Australia.
Overall, we found both films overwhelmingly negative; the U.S. one due mostly to the production/editing team that seems to perceive parenting with a disability as a wearying process, weighted with sadness and regrets for the whole family, and the Australian film that has guts, but ultimately wore us down through long, darkly lit scenes, amateur production values and sheer length. However, to be fair, they are negative in significantly different ways: "Belinda's Baby" is as much an indictment of Australia's lack of personal assistance and support for disabled parents as it is the filmed record of a particular family's trials. In this regard, it was intended to be negative--exposing bureaucratic nightmares and inhospitable practices from the disabled parent's point of view, while "Family Challenges," shot from the outside looking in, seemed to reflect an editorial point of view that disabled parents not only have a harder row to hoe physically and emotionally, but cheat their children of rightful joys as well.
The protagoonist of the first film, Australian Belinda Wardlaw-Jones, is a strong well-known disability advocate with muscular dystrophy who decides, with her husband, Andrew, to have a baby against medical and family advice. As we go through the pregnancy with her, it is scary to witness the erosion of all Brenda's support systems and her own admirable, gutsy self-confidence: she has to quit work as her health and physical strength deteriorate, her mother is unsupportive, her husband is laid low by all the extra demands on him, and, anyway, where are her friends? And this is just the beginning-the birthing and post-birth scenarios are even darker, relieved only occasionally by a few "cute baby-happy family scenes."
Barbara Kolucki, being an early childhood specialist, was screaming out during our "Belinda" screening-"Why don't they do Kangeroo care???" Being stupid, I thought she was talking about either jumping joeys or some sort of specialized care available only in Australia, probably reliant on pouches or some such equipment. But, no, it was patiently explained to me that some of the "Who's my Mommy?" effect of the endless, anonymous line of nannies and carers could have been offset by Brenda having been instructed in this skin-to-skin infant-mom bonding approach. This long-established no-cost "kangaroo care," among other things, might have made up for in close contact what was being lost by Belinda not being able to control which carers pick up her son due to her own limited arm strength. In this sort of thing, the film was maddening in that even though Australia is a resource-rich country, it was filmed as if this were the first time a substantially disabled woman had ever given birth. No one-family, bureaucrats or advocates-seemed to have any access to practical information or seasoned opinion.
Eventually, we do see Belinda regain her equilibrium and begin to create a family life, but it seems a singular product of pluck and luck and we couldn't help wonder what any other disabled Australian wanting to have children could draw from all this. We admired Belinda, but felt this dirigible needed some hot air siphoned off and a few practical tips added in.
As for the dirge, "Family Challenges," at times we wondered if this film had been made to convince disabled people not to parent. Okay, every once in a while a delightful kid's viewpoint slips through (a youngster describes her dad's hand controls as "pretty cool" and "worth it if you want to drive") and there are a few rustic shots of unrestrained parent-child silliness and affection, but for the most part, these three stories are relentlessly sad and serious. Some of the sadness that pervades is due to the specific situation of the parents chosen for the film: two of the three became disabled after the children are born, so the production team focuses on loss: loss of the once physically able parent, loss of a formerly physically capable spouse, etc. A dad falls off a ladder and is now in a wheelchair, a mother becomes progressively disabled from multiple sclerosis, tears fall, the music shifts to minor keys.
I was a bit confused-these were real-life stories, how could they have been told differently, presented in a more upbeat way so as to show disabled parents handling more issues or exhibiting more coping skills? Kolucki, who began her professional media life on Sesame Street, spotted the problematic technique. She explained that it was evident from the kids' answers, and even sometimes the adults' responses that the questions asked were pretty negative, probably something like, "How does your mom's/dad's disability makes you feel sad," or "What does your child ask you to do that you can't?" It was also evident that when the child or adult had by chance provided positive information, little or no follow-up resulted.
This film, like most documentary films in the disability field, had been shot so that the questions were largely silent; a little bit of introduction was followed by a series of direct responses. In this case, we both agreed that three families who probably could have provided a lot of tips, hints and colorful, humorous anecdotes about parenting with a disability had, instead, been led in another direction. We are in search of unusual, practical, humorous and/or helpful films on parenting with a disability and will return to this topic in a later issue of Disability World.
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