When you’re stuck in traffic, you can’t help but notice the decor people choose to adorn their cars with. You’d be surprised how often this adornment is Disney-related (or maybe not, but I certainly was). This week alone, I spotted two different license plate frames expressing their zeal for Disneyland. The first frame said, “Em eye see kay ee why em o u ess ee.” The second, “Magic lives here,” was inscribed at the bottom, with the Disneyland logo emblazoned at the top.
The “Disney adult” is a real phenomenon, and the evidence is everywhere.
But what is it about Disney and its subsequent land, a fabrication of fantasy created by a man with conservative worldviews and a purveyor of misogynistic and stereotypical stories, that incites such fandom?
I grew up in LA until I was seven years old, and went to Disneyland several times as a child and once as a jaded twenty-something; having grown up on Disney movies, these were indeed magical experiences. But as I grew older, the fairy dust sheen of Disney began to fade. How could it not?
Disney and Disneyland are not spaces designed with marginalized experiences or people in mind. It is not a place for feminists or misfits or people who question the status quo. It is a land predicated upon white heteronormativity, upholding gender norms and romanticizing damsels in distress, toxic masculinity, lack of agency and even less bodily autonomy. How has such a nightmare become the dreamscape of so many?
You may be thinking, It’s not that deep. But it is. When we accept fairytales as aspirational, when we allow our social conditioning to indicate what is the truth and what is beautiful, we uphold the isms that are designed to keep us docile and complacent, never free.
Whose Fairytale Is It, Anyway?
We all want to believe in magic. We all want to believe that it could be, should be, more beautiful than this. That the good guys always prevail and the bad guys always lose. But who are the good guys in this equation? Why are the bad guys always “exotic,” dark, “other”? To embrace enchantment and mysticism, in the world of Disney, to believe the fairytale, is to believe that “good” means white, demure, and golden-haired, and to be bad is to be dark, impure, and prideful.
Disney plays off of old, tired tropes, invoking mysticism to cloak its messages of xenophobia, chauvinism, and “traditional” norms. The prince saves the princess, pressing a kiss to her cold, seemingly dead lips. The villain, queer and deviant from the norm, is vanquished.
We are conditioned to believe that goodness looks like the industrious, meek white woman, that magic is what happens when we put our heads down and accept the scraps that are given to us. Men are strong and outspoken, women are good and subordinate.
What are we saying to our children when we expose them to these simplistic stories?
Sometimes I wonder, if I didn’t live in a marginalized body, would I be awake to these stereotypes and tropes? Would I care? I like to believe that I would, but how it all is designed, the innumerable and insidious ways we are incentivized to remain asleep, it’s hard to say.
The global enterprise of Disney has made strides in its century of movie-making, but is it enough? Can its box-checking progress overcome its checkered past of beauty and brawn over brains and heart?
Not to mention, visiting Disneyland itself these days is an outrageously expensive endeavor. Whereas tickets used to be affordable enough that my single mom could take me and my sister, a day pass will now run you anywhere from $104 to $209. For one person. (And this rate does not include parking, which can clock you up to $50.)
Factor in food and merchandise, and a day at Disneyland will easily run you well over $500 (check out this breakdown for two adults who left with a final tab of $776.34—for ONE DAY). Who can afford this?
Entertainment is a luxury not all of us can afford, and the exercise of simply being entertained has become increasingly classist as the cost of living continues to climb. When a bag of groceries from the local supermarket costs $70 and gas prices in California hover around $4.50 (and up!) per gallon, the thought of spending so much money at a theme park is ludicrous at best, offensive at worst.
I am not immune to the nostalgia that thoughts of Disneyland evoke. I remember hopping in my seat with excitement in the Tiki Room, screaming with unbridled glee on Splash Mountain, growing delightfully dizzy in a swirling teacup. I know all the words to all of the songs from the Disney movies of my youth—The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin—and became lost in these worlds of imagination and make-believe. But then, you grow up.
The Little Mermaid shows that a woman must lose her voice to become desirable. Beauty and the Beast features a strong female lead, yet it’s still about her lowering her standards to accept bad behavior and ending up with a literal beast. Aladdin is full of racist stereotypes and exoticism, peddling dangerous fabrications of culture.
Why can’t we just enjoy it? some may ask. This question is one of privilege, of being able to reside in a bubble that floats high over the endless sea of oppression and marginalization, the stripping of bodily autonomy and basic necessities like food, water, and shelter. Sure, it’s just entertainment, but it’s also a reflection of who we are and what we value.
If we are to believe this world of make-believe, who we are is shallow and fearful. If we buy in to the land of Disney, what we value is individual freedom over collective freedom. Is this enough? Is this really what we stand for?
Art exists to illuminate truth, to interrogate what has always been, to imagine what could be. Art that does not imagine, that does not question, is not art at all. It is propaganda.
The Friday Finds
Action. Calling all artists! My favorite place to get t-shirts, Philadelphia Printworks, has an open call for artists to submit on the theme: Ceasefire Now! Eligible submissions may include, but are not limited to, posters, zines, and apparel designs. Find out more here.
Listen. Obviously, Beyoncé’s new track, “TEXAS HOLD ‘EM”! I can’t tell you how thrilling it is to hear the most dynamic artist of our era reclaim the country genre. I’ve always liked country (let me be clear, good country music, none of this “cold beer, short skirts” stuff), yet I never sought it out as I felt it wasn’t for me. Beyoncé reminds us that Black folks created country music (did you know the banjo is from Africa?), that it is for us, and that enjoying country is our birthright.
Watch. Deadloch! This Tasmanian detective series has it all. Lesbians! Murder! Mystery! Drama! Humor! You will be on the edge of your seat while laughing out loud, staying up far too late to see what happens next. I hope the show gets picked up for another season!
Read. You Got Anything Stronger?: Stories by Gabrielle Union. A follow-up to her incendiary first book (and one of The Find’s first recommendations!), We’re Going to Need More Wine, Union’s second book gets even realer. Tackling everything from racism to motherhood, anecdotes from boozy nights out to the horror of blackface, Union employs her sharp wit and storytelling skills to offer an intimate examination of life as a Black woman in America.
That’s it for this week—thank you for being here.
In solidarity,
Emma
You and tuggy I love and miss you