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From Poster Child to Protester

Copyright 1993 by Laura Hershey

[The following article appeared in the Spring/Summer 1997 issue of Spectacle, published by

Pachanga Press, Burlington MA.]

Orange, pink, and lavender flyers fluttered in the breeze as we handed them to any

passer-by willing to take one. "Tune Out Jerry!" the flyers urged. "Boycott the

Telethon!" Some two dozen of us lined up in front of the hotel shouting chants,

distributing leaflets, and answering questions from the media, while the local segment of

the Jerry Lewis Labor Day Telethon broadcast from a ballroom two floors above.

Though I would stay outside all afternoon, I remembered all too well the scene that was

taking place inside.

The singers croon. The eyelids droop. The money pours in. The firefighters, the Boy

Scouts, the business executives, the neighborhood kids, all tiredly smiling proud smiles,

carry in their collected funds, in jars, in boots, in oversized checks. The camera rolls.

The host smiles. The money pours in. The Poster Child gives awkward answers to inane

questions. The host smiles. The Poster Child smiles. The host cries. The money pours in.

You have to keep thinking about the money, because as everyone freely admits, that's

what this is all about. The money raised represents hope -- year after year, promises of a

miracle, the great cure that waits just around the corner. The money manifests faith --

faith in the noble research scientists working desperately to identify, and eliminate,

flawed genes. The money testifies to human love and compassion, ruthlessly

sentimentalized in songs like "They'll Never Walk Alone" which punctuate the twenty

or so hours of the telethon.

The money is what justifies, even sanctifies, this annual ritual of tears and guilt. In 1999

the telethon raised over $53 million. That massive amount of money that people --

young and old, rich and poor -- feel compelled to donate, giving "till it hurts," as Jerry

Lewis insists -- that money makes it very hard to challenge what is actually going on.

But there we were, back in September 1991, on Denver's busy 16th Street Mall,

challenging the Jerry Lewis Labor Day Muscular Dystrophy Telethon. Along with

activists in cities around the country, including Chicago, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas,

we were protesting the telethon's portrayal of people with disabilities as helpless and

pathetic. We were asserting publicly that this colossal begging festival, supposedly

carried out on our behalf, is offensive to us and damaging to our efforts to become firstclass

citizens. Our protests were small, but they would become an annual tradition --

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much to the annoyance of Jerry Lewis and MDA.

For years we had been protesting against the barriers which keep people with disabilities

from using buses, public buildings, and other facilities. Now we were taking on one of

the biggest barriers of all: the paternalistic attitudes which prevail in our society, and

which are reflected so dramatically in the annual telethon.

It is difficult to raise objections to something like the telethon; people are reluctant to

disparage, or even entertain questions about, an effort which they perceive as

fundamentally good, or at least well-meaning. That is understandable. It is an

uncomfortable truth, in social work, in government activity, and in charitable endeavors,

that actions which are intended to help a certain group of people may actually harm

them. By harm, I mean -- among other things -- that these actions may reinforce the

already devalued status of people with disabilities in this society. Looking closely and

critically at the telethon, as some of us have started to do, brings up a number of issues

which I feel are essential to understanding the status of people with disabilities as an

oppressed minority group in America. These issues include: charity versus civil rights;

cure versus accommodation; self-expression and self-determination; and the relationship

between pity and bigotry.

The telethon has one goal -- to raise as much money as possible for the Muscular

Dystrophy Association, or MDA. Conventional wisdom says that the most effective way

to do this is to appeal directly to the emotions of viewers -- to move people so strongly,

with stories of tragic suffering, that they will want to help "save Jerry's kids." Money is

tight these days; charitable solicitation is a competitive business. Invoking sympathy

sufficient to pry open wallets is not an easy task. But those orchestrating the telethon

have a foolproof, not-so-secret weapon: children. Never mind that two-thirds of MDA's

1 million clients are adults -- the telethon is not in the business of trying to represent the

real lives of people with muscular dystrophy. That's not the point. The point is to paint a

picture of a victim so tragic, and at the same time so cute and appealing, that viewers

will be compelled to call in a pledge. This victim must also appear helpless, utterly

unable to help him/herself, so that the giver can gain a personal sense of virtue and

superiority from the act of giving. Finally, the victim must display something called

"courage," which does not resemble the bold, active kind of courage most people aspire

to or at least fantasize about, in which one takes one's destiny into one's own hands and,

by exercising will and choice, affirms oneself and/or one's place in the universe. No, the

"courage" demanded in this instance is the willingness to deprecate oneself; to accept

other people's versions of one's own reality; to reject one's own identity in favor of an

eagerly anticipated cure (this is also called "hope"); to tolerate and even encourage the

assumption that life with a disability is a life scarcely worth carrying on with, except for

the generosity of Jerry Lewis and everyone involved in the telethon.

At the age of eleven, I was enlisted into this role of cheerful victim. I was a Poster

Child. In 1973-74, I became a mini-celebrity, appearing at fundraisers throughout

Colorado. I learned to smile whenever a camera appeared, and to say "thank you" -- in

other words, I learned to look, sound, and act cute and grateful. And on Labor Day, I

became a prop in the TV studio where the local portion of the telethon was broadcast.

To whole families, driving by to drop their contributions in a giant fishbowl outside the

studio; to the camera's blinking red light; to the anchorman who squatted next to me,

holding a huge microphone in my face; to everyone, I gave the same cute-and-grateful

act, because that's what they wanted.

So I am no stranger to the telethon. And in the two decades since then, the telethon

doesn't seem to have changed much. I watch it every year, just to make sure. It's still

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chillingly familiar. The sappy music, the camera close-ups of wistful faces, the voiceovers

telling us about that person's dream to walk someday, the tearful stories told by

parents "devastated" by their children's disability, and the contributors coming forward

in droves -- it was all just the same as I remember it.

But some things have changed; I have changed. I don't know what my politics were as

an eleven-year-old, if I had any. But my politics now -- which are not merely political

but also personal, spiritual, and practical -- have led me to question and ultimately reject

most of the values which the telethon represents.

Let's start with the money. Does it help? Doesn't it make the stereotypes, the appeals to

pity, the obnoxious on-air begging worth putting up with?

Yes, the money does help -- some people, with some things. We are talking about a lot

of money here. MDA Executive Director Robert Ross asserts that during its 26-year

history, the telethon has raised over $600 million. In 1999, the telethon raised over $53

million.

With all this money coming in, I would expect the direct services provided to people

with neuromuscular diseases to be much more extensive, and more relevant, than they

actually are. I would expect, for example, that when a person develops a condition

which begins to limit his or her mobility, that MDA might come through with some

money for access modifications to the home, so that the family wouldn't have to choose

between moving to an accessible house (which are hard to find), or hauling the person

up and down stairs all day. I would expect some support services for independent living

-- someone to assist with personal and household needs, training in things like cooking

and cleaning from a wheelchair, and help with transportation. I would expect MDA to

provide a motorized wheelchair for anyone who wants one. Such a chair can boost a

disabled person's quality of life enormously. Instead, MDA has very restrictive criteria

for determining who receives a motorized wheelchair.

Far be it from me to advise a multimillion-dollar agency on how to spend its money. But

when the telethon tells viewers that by donating money to MDA, they are answering the

prayers of people with MD -- offering them a friend to turn to in times of need -- it

exaggerates.

Okay, say the defenders of the telethon, so maybe the money doesn't help people now as

much as it should. Isn't it still laudable that the telethon raises so much money to help

find a cure?

Ah, the cure. That's the promise that keeps people sending in those checks. That's what

keeps this humiliation going year after year. We're getting closer all the time! Jerry

Lewis assures us frenetically. He's been saying it for four decades.

Shortly after my stint as Poster Child was over, I remember meeting a stranger in a store

who recognized me from the telethon. He said to me, "I bet you really hope they find a

cure soon!" When he said this, I realized that by this time, I almost never even

contemplated that possibility anymore, let alone hoped for it. I told him that. I don't

think he believed me. I find the same reaction now, when I criticize the telethon for

implying that people with disabilities sit around hoping and praying for a cure. I've

encountered people who, never having tried it, think that living life with a disability is

an endless hardship. For many of us, it's actually quite interesting, though not without its

problems. And the majority of those problems result from the barriers, both physical and

attitudinal, which surround us, or from the lack of decent support services. These are

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things that can be changed, but only if we as a society recognize them for what they are.

We'll never recognize them if we stay so focused on curing individuals of disability,

rather than making changes to accommodate disability into our culture.

Now, I'm not arguing that medical research should halt entirely -- I'm just weighing the

cost-benefit value, in my life and in the lives of my friends with disabilities, of the

millions of dollars spent on the search for a cure, a search that will take decades, versus

the things we really need now, on which society spends far less. We will probably never

benefit from the cure. We will benefit from accessible buildings and transportation

systems, job opportunities, and attendant services to provide us personal assistance. So

will future generations.

We have begun making progress in those areas. In 1990, for example, the Americans

with Disabilities Act became law, putting some legal teeth into our fight for civil rights

and access.

But for all our progress in the areas of legal protection and accessibility, there's still this

lingering attitude that what people with disabilities really need is to be cured. Society

wants the problem to go away, so it won't have to accommodate people with long-term

disabling conditions. It wants us to go away, or at least to "get better." One of my major

objections to the telethon is the way it reinforces that attitude.

Sure, some people with muscular dystrophy do hope and dream of that day when the

cure is finally found. As people with disabilities, we're conditioned just like everyone

else to believe that disability is our problem. We've been told over and over that our

need for accessibility to buses and buildings, and our need for health services, are too

expensive, too unreasonable. Our culture considers it shameful to be physically unable

to dress oneself, or to need assistance in going to the bathroom. Rather than demanding

that the government provide such helping services, many people with disabilities end up

hidden in nursing homes or in our own homes, where personal assistance remains the

private "burden" of individuals and families. Rather than insisting on having our

personal needs and our access needs met, many prefer to keep quiet about these needs,

fearful to show ourselves lacking. The telethon itself encourages such self-defeating

thinking. We are primed to regard ourselves as substandard. We therefore hesitate to

assert our right to have that which, because of our disabilities, we need. The telethon

teaches us to think that others will provide for us because they are kind and generous,

not because we are a strong and vocal community. When so many of us feel so negative

about our disabilities and our needs, it's difficult to develop a political agenda to get our

basic needs met. The cure is a simple, magical, non-political solution to all the problems

in a disabled person's life. That's why it's so appealing, and so disempowering. The other

solutions we have to work for, even fight for; we only have to dream about the cure.

The idea of a cure is at least in part an effort to homogenize, to make everyone the same.

To draw a parallel, when I was a child and first learned about racial discrimination, I

thought it would be great if people could all be one color so we wouldn't have problems

like prejudice. What color did I envision for this one-color world? White, of course,

because I'm white. I didn't bear black people any malice. I just thought they'd be

happier, would suffer less, if they were more like me.

We all have our own ideas about which human condition is best, based on our own

assumptions about other people's lives. These assumptions don't always jibe with reality.

People who assume that I live for the day when a cure is found, when I (or future

generations) can live disability-free, simply don't understand my reality. It's a question

of priorities. On the list of things I want, a cure for my disability is pretty low. Higher up

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on the list would be achievement of my personal, professional, and social goals, and

these are not in any way dependent on a cure.

Besides, there's an issue of pride involved. Disability is a part of my whole identity, one

I'm not eager to change. Especially not at the cost of my dignity and personhood, as the

telethon implicitly demands.

This gets to another important issue the telethon raises in relation to the oppression of

people with disabilities: Whose job is it to tell the story, or stories, of a group of people?

The telethon is full of "profiles" of people with various forms of muscular dystrophy and

their families. Yet these stories are packaged as products, not told as truth. Favorite

subjects are children, for reasons discussed earlier -- children can be made to appear

more helpless, more pathetic, more dependent on the public's generosity. Children are

also cute; therefore they seem more deserving of help.

In comparison with my telethon years, recent telethons do profile more adults with

muscular dystrophy. Some are successful, competent adults. Yet somehow, even these

individuals were made to look desperate and pitiable.

On any given telethon -- both on the national broadcast from Las Vegas, and during the

cut-aways to local segments -- you will see profiles of children and adults with muscular

dystrophy. These spots are all fairly similar in tone and emphasis. As if by a prescribed

formula, each one contains several key ingredients. In each, the parents speak about

their reactions upon hearing their child's diagnosis -- even if, as in most cases, this has

occurred years, or even decades, before. Naturally, these reactions include disbelief and

grief. Yet there is rarely any discussion of how (or whether) the family has since come

to accept the knowledge of their child's condition, to find resources (other than those

offered by MDA), to plan for the child's future, or to promote the child's self-esteem.

The situation is presented as an unmitigated tragedy.

I'm suspicious of this presentation. I'm not trying to minimize the pain a parent might

feel upon learning that a child has a disabling, potentially even fatal, diagnosis. There is

a very natural grieving process that goes along with disability at any stage. But when I

see those emotions exploited so crassly, I can't help wincing. For most of us, our losses,

gains, sorrows and joys are simply part of a rich human life. The telethon works very

hard to convince people that our suffering is extraordinary. This produces pity,

confusion and misunderstanding.

Another common element in these pieces is the emphasis on "what Johnny can't do." A

child, usually a boy, is shown sitting at the edge of a playground. The narrator talks

about the games the child can't play, and how he has to watch other children running and

jumping. He can only dream, the narrator tells us sadly.

Never mind that the kid might be adept at playing Nintendo, or making rude noises with

his mouth. In the real world of children, these skills are valued at least as much as

running and jumping. The truth is, all children play at different levels of skill; most can't

run as fast as they would like, or jump as high, or play as well. Children in wheelchairs

do play with other kids on the playground -- I did. A child in a motorized wheelchair can

be mobile, active -- and popular, if willing to give rides now and then. But instead of

acknowledging any of this, the telethon encourages viewers to project their own worst

fears onto people with muscular dystrophy: "Just imagine what it would be like if your

child couldn't play baseball."

Finally, each piece puts forward an archaic and gloomy picture of the disabled family

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member's role, and of the role of the family in a disabled person's life. All the families

are described as "courageous"; and they all seem to bear total responsibility for the care

and support of the person with MD. Spouses and parents alike are shown carrying the

person with MD up and down stairs, pushing their wheelchair, and so on. Rarely if ever

is the disabled family member shown making any positive contribution. In these stories,

the disabled person's status is clearly (even if the word was never used) that of "burden."

I am all for supportive families. My own parents and brother have stood by me

throughout my life, backing me with assistance and encouragement. But I have also

built a life apart from them. Many people with disabilities do so, getting educated,

working, and having families of our own. I am able to live independently, working

toward the goals I choose, as long as I have access to the support services I need --

primarily attendant services. I am lucky that the state of Colorado pays someone to

come to my home and help me get up in the morning and get to bed at night. Most states

do not offer this service, forcing people with disabilities to remain in the care of their

families, or to enter nursing homes. Indeed, attendant services is the number one

disability rights issue of the 1990's. Activists are demanding that the federal government

divert a part of the huge budget which currently subsidizes the nursing home industry,

and create a national system of attendant services, available to anyone who needs them.

On the telethon, of course, this is a non-issue. Disability is a private problem,

demanding faith and fortitude from families, demanding generosity from viewers,

demanding nothing from the government, or from society as a whole. If the need for

personal assistance is mentioned at all, it is only to highlight, once again, the purported

helplessness of people with MD, as in phrases such as "totally dependent on others for

the most basic activities the rest of us take for granted." In fact, the opposite is true:

With decent attendant services at my disposal, I become more independent, not more

dependent. But to present that truth might undermine that vision of the long-suffering,

burden-bearing family.

The unvarying tone and content of the pieces made it difficult to distinguish one

"patient" from another. The profiles put forward a stereotyped view of what it means to

have a disability, rather than any genuine stories of real people. We are all individuals,

and families are all different. Not on the telethon, though. There we are made to fit the

mold. Even the language used on the telethon distorts our reality and thereby

dehumanizes us: We are "victims," we "suffer" from our conditions, we are "desperate."

I have firsthand experience of this distortion effect. Six or seven years after my Poster

Childhood was over, just before my second year of college, I was asked to be

interviewed for a local pre-telethon TV special. At first I said no. I was by now quite

leery of the telethon mentality. I had also started becoming politicized, and was now

more interested in civil rights than in charity. And I couldn't see any reason to

participate once again in the simple-minded propaganda I remembered from my oncamera

appearances as Poster Child. Back then, I had been asked questions like, "What

would you like to say to all those nice people who are calling in their pledges, Laura?"

to which the obvious reply was, "Thank you." Such questions left little room for honest

expression.

But the local MDA office promised that the interview would be handled differently in

this program: The plan was to take a positive, realistic approach and portray the real

lives of three real people. So I agreed.

A TV news reporter conducted the interview in my parents' home. She asked good

questions and allowed me to give complete, intelligent answers. It was certainly a

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different process from my earlier experiences. Afterward, I felt good about the

upcoming show. I had been able to discuss issues, describe my life as a college student,

and project a strong, positive personality.

Or so I thought. When the program aired, I was horrified. Through careful editing, it had

turned into a sob story entitled "Waiting For A Miracle." From that point on, I vowed to

have nothing to do with the telethon.

Until 1991, that is. I learned that two Chicago activists, Chris Matthews and Mike Ervin,

were interested in coordinating actions against the Jerry Lewis telethon. Like me, they

were both former poster children. I urged people from Denver's community to join the

campaign. My decision to organize a protest did not come without some thought. In fact,

I had for years contemplated doing something like this, but had not. I knew that our

message would not be an easy one to convey to the public. Many people are involved

with the telethon, either as volunteers or as contributors. I knew that openly criticizing it

would cause confusion and anger. The telethon enjoys widespread acceptance, even

acclaim.

But that is exactly why it's so important, I feel, to raise our voices against it. Because it

is accepted as our reality. This is my biggest gripe against Jerry Lewis, and against the

telethon: the extent to which they claim to tell my story, our stories, without any

legitimate authority to do so.

The telethon's hegemony over the image of disability is quite staggering. A 1996 press

release issued by MDA states, "According to A.C. Nielsen, last year's Telethon was

watched by some 70 million Americans or 27 million households. The MDA Telethon --

considered the granddaddy of all Telethons -- ranks in viewership with the World Series

and the Academy Awards. " Those 70 million people are absorbing a message shaped by

greed, deception, and bigotry.

The bigotry of Jerry Lewis is worth discussing. I don't necessarily enjoy attacking

another person's motives, but I hear defenders saying, "Jerry Lewis is trying to help so

many people. How dare you criticize his methods?" This means-justifies-the-ends

argument has a long and despicable history, which I don't need to go into here. Even

more dangerous is the attitude that people who are "being helped" have no right to say

how they want to be helped, or treated, or thought of. This is paternalism at its worst. By

being the object of charitable efforts, do we thereby waive our right to respect, and to

free speech? If people are really interested in helping me, wouldn't they want to hear me

tell my own story, rather than hearing a distorted version of it from someone who not

only doesn't share my experience, but who doesn't even seem to want to listen to me?

With the stated goal of "helping" his "kids," Jerry Lewis is helping to keep alive the

most pernicious myths about people who have disabilities. He ignores our truth,

substituting his own distorted assumptions.

If our protest did nothing else, it allowed some of us the opportunity to say, "No, this is

not our reality. If you want to know what our lives are like, listen to us. If you want to

know what we need, ask us. If you truly want to help us, let us tell you how. And if you

pity and fear us, please own that; then let us work together at changing the world so that

disability will not be something to fear, but something to try to understand."

The response to our protest has been interesting. Many people seem to resent our daring

to object to these distortions, half-truths, and stereotypes. I have been called

"ungrateful," "cruel," and "insensitive" -- simply for trying to counter all this with the

truth, with my truth. At the very least, I feel that the protest has enabled me and others to

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begin getting on record our own stories, in contrast to the misleading accounts that come

from the telethon.

Media is a powerful thing. It can deceive, or it can enlighten. About a week after that

1991 telethon, a publication arrived in my mailbox called MDA News Magazine, put

out by the national Muscular Dystrophy Association office. I started to leaf through it,

expecting to find the same kinds of negative stereotypes that permeate the hours of the

telethon. Instead, I found articles about job-seeking strategies; profiles of successful

individuals who have neuromuscular diseases; honest and thoughtful pieces about

families of children with neuromuscular diseases; lists of useful resources; and clinical

updates. All of it was written in a positive, realistic tone, using respectful and

appropriate language. The phrase "people with disabilities" was used at all times --

never "victims," or "sufferers," and certainly not "cripples."

One article, written by Marie Hite, whose son has muscular dystrophy, stood out. Its

basic theme was very similar to some of the telethon spots I had viewed: the difficulties

a child has in coping with a progressively disabling condition. But Hite's treatment of

the subject couldn't have been more different from that presented on the telethon. In her

article, her son confided that he could no longer climb a neighbor's tree; he asked his

mother for an explanation. She replied that his muscles didn't work the same as other

children's.

Whereas the telethon would have used this situation to create pity, this article used it to

tell a touching, upbeat story. In it, the focus was not so much on how the boy differs

from other children, but on how the author helped her son understand his disability, and

on his own resourcefulness in adapting to it. The grief was not denied, but neither was it

overdone.

Tears instantly flowed down Petey's cheeks. 'But, Mom, I want to climb trees, too,' his

voice pleaded.

Silence....

What to say?...

I let him know that it was OK to feel sad, and I stayed with him.

Five minutes later, he was OK again.

'Petey, I'm going to help you climb Mrs. Kurly's tree when I get home from work,' I

said. His face lit up....

Her conclusion emphasized the boy's fundamental similarity to other children in

struggling to understand and come to terms with himself and his world:

He had accepted his limitation as only a 6-year-old can, with childish grace and fantasy.

There are limits -- and tree trunks -- that love, with a little ingenuity, can rise above.

Like other 6-year-olds, Petey just wanted to play in the tree.

In Hite's piece, Petey got what he wanted, with some assistance and adaptation; in fact,

this describes fairly well how most people with severe disabilities live -- with assistance

and adaptation. Petey was portrayed as a real child, full of humanity. What a different

view from that to which telethon viewers are exposed annually!

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I was impressed by the sophistication and sensitivity of the writing in this magazine --

but also a little baffled. How could the same organization that edits this publication, with

its realism and insight, also produce the Jerry Lewis telethon? They know better! I

thought.

Then I realized the reason for the apparent split personality within MDA. I was seeing

two very different presentations, intended for two very different audiences. The

magazine is aimed at people with neuromuscular diseases and their families. I commend

MDA for offering their clients such a high-quality forum for education, information, and