Don’t underestimate the power of disability representation

Nearly anyone that knows me knows that pasta has been my lifelong favorite food. We stock a variety of shapes and flavors in the pantry so I always have different options to choose from. Among them are single serving, microwaveable mac ‘n cheese cups.

A few weeks ago, I realized we were out of these easy meal cups, so I hopped on Amazon to order a box of my preferred brand’s white cheddar flavor. Before checking out, I spotted another package with noodles shaped like characters from the Disney movie “Moana,” which I also love.

I wasn’t at all committed to buying these, but I was curious enough to click on it. As I scrolled through the product details, my attention turned to a photo of a boy in a wheelchair who apparently endorses this mac ‘n cheese. Sold!

Recommended Reading

April 28, 2023 Columns by Halsey Blocher

How to savor every bite while eating for pleasure

My pasta haul arrived the next day, and I tried my first cup of “Moana” macaroni later that week. It was delicious.

I also found that the fun shapes doubled as an unexpected disability hack. Similar to hollow pasta shapes like penne or rigatoni, the little holes that form the design allowed me to easily slide the food onto the fork’s tines without needing to forcefully press down on it with the little strength I possess due to the severe atrophy and fatigue in my arms and hands. And unlike those other examples, the openings in the macaroni shapes were small enough that they still fit snuggly onto the end of the fork instead of wiggling around while I try to move the bite to my mouth.

Depicting food as animated movie characters is surely meant to make it more appetizing to children, but as I’ve written before, items meant primarily for kids often provide an accessible alternative for disabled adults, too. Plus, who doesn’t want to have a bit of fun with their food?

Macaroni matters

I’m so glad I decided to try this new version of a favorite food, but I almost didn’t. My thoughts keep circling back to what gave me the final push to add these particular cups to my cart: an ad featuring a child with a wheelchair.

Growing up with SMA, I don’t recall seeing much disability representation in food ads. If there were any, I must have missed them. The kids with wheels that I saw were on bikes, scooters, and skateboards, usually chasing after some iconic mascot or another to obtain their tasty treats. Unlike with me and my childhood friends, you weren’t likely to find a wheelchair rolling alongside them.

These days, disability representation is growing more commonplace. We can find members of the disability community in fashion, sports, and television — including my favorite show. Now that I understand how valuable it is to see people like me in marketing and media, I can’t help wondering how something as simple as an inclusive mac ‘n cheese advertisement might have influenced my thoughts and preferences as a child.

Would I have been more willing to try things that I turned my nose up at? I won’t suggest that it could have persuaded me to eat vegetables (it’s a nice idea, though), but maybe I would have sooner discovered foods that I only learned are enjoyable to me in adulthood.

If nothing else, I’m sure it would have made little Halsey smile every time she flipped through a magazine or watched a commercial that validated her place in society, even if she might not have realized that’s what it meant yet.

I probably would have shown it to my friends, and maybe they would have told some more of their friends, who would have carried the news onward to their families and other social circles. And maybe that ripple effect would have continued through the community and fostered greater inclusion, accessibility, and awareness for kids with all sorts of disabilities.

I was fortunate to grow up surrounded by wonderful friends who welcomed me and supported my needs not just because it was the right thing to do, but because they genuinely cared about me. Not every kid has that. Some are bullied or ignored because of their disabilities or whatever makes them unique. Could this kind of representation in popular snack packaging and advertisements be used as a tool to normalize disability among peers?

Maybe a wheelchair user in a macaroni ad seems inconsequential, but I’d caution against underestimating its power and persuasiveness. After all, that’s all it took to convince me, a 28-year-old adult, to spend my money on something I didn’t plan to, so what else could it do? I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if the influence of inclusion is capable of having a positive impact that reaches far beyond the pasta industry.

Note: SMA News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of SMA News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to spinal muscular atrophy.