#if you want further resources please let me know
I’ve seen a lot of talk in the fandom lately regarding Viktor and the representation of his disability. There’s a lot of anger going around on both sides of the argument. A lot of people seem to think that disabled people asking for proper representation is a targeted attack on artists. I don’t agree with this.
I do see how things could have been phrased kinder. Absolutely, I do. I understand why the artist’s response was defensive. But, I have also seen a good deal of misrepresentation with Viktor’s disability in this fandom. It’s everywhere. It’s understandable, especially for disabled people, to be upset about it.
This misrepresentation of Viktor’s disability ranges from infantilization of his character, to simply being represented incorrectly, to not being represented at all.
From my perspective as a writer, I am not disabled. I do my best to represent disabilities properly and can fully recognize that I might fail at that. If a disabled person starts telling me I am representing it wrong, how should I respond?
Well, I am not the one who is seeing my experiences being consistently erased. I am not the one who is being harmed by this erasure. I am not the one who knows what it is like to be disabled.
For abled people, this is one conversation, and an effort to be better. For disabled people, this is their lives. This is what they deal with, every single day. It’s going to get frustrating after a certain point. It’s going to be disheartening to see this erasure, over and over. As abled people, it is so easy to say, “Oh, this should have been worded kinder,” when we are not the ones who are being affected. But it’s not that simple.
If I am being informed I’m representing a minority wrong, when I have not lived that experience, all I can do is be better with this information. To make an effort to represent things better in the future.
Which is truly all people are asking for - that we, as creators, make an effort,andlisten.
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Chiming in as a disabled person to support this and to add:
Everyone’sexperience with disability is different.
So it’s important to practice patience, empathy, and self-compassion when working towards a shared understanding when discussing disability representation. Bodies are inherently political, acutely so when talking about disability representation. For so many disabled folk, our very erasure in fandom is a reminder of how most societies prefer their disabled citizens invisible or dead.
Did you ask for a miniature essay on Viktor, disability representation in fandom, life as a disabled person, and being a disabled writer? No. Did I want to write one instead of editing chapter three of Arcane Treats? 100%. You’re welcome.
Fandom and Disability Representation
Fandom and disability representation have a long history. Fan creations — whether that be writing, art, animation, cosplay, craft, etc. — and fandom offer safe escapist spaces where disabled people can feel truly seen without being subjected to exclusionary media censorship where our disabilities are regularly minimised, fetishised for non-disabled folk (see inspiration porn), completely erased or even worse, presented as a death sentence.
When you’re disabled, your disability shapes a significant part of your identity growing up because your disability affects how you navigate the world. In Viktor’s case, his disability affected his self-perception and self-worth growing up, including how he interacted with his Zaunite peers as a child and how he gravitated towards invention, where he felt empowered by and valued for his intellect.
It also underpinned his motivation for seeking Jayce out years later in Act I. Viktor saw parts of himself in Jayce’s desolation; and he gave Jayce the thing that Viktor, himself, held onto for years:
Hope.
Hope for a brighter future. Hope for innovation. Hope for invention that could “improve lives” of the disenfranchised, of the disaffected and of the disempowered people of Zaun, in Viktor’s case.
Viktor’s experiences as a disabled child growing up in Zaun, without the disability supports he needed — and seeing how being physically disabled was a death sentence (systemically constructed by the Piltover oligarchy, might I add) in Zaun — is closely tied to his hopes of bettering the lives of others. One day I’ll write an essay about disability representation in Zaun and the Piltover oligarchy. Today is not that day.
Viktor’s hope — this yearning and drive for a more equitable future is part of the reason why Viktor is so beloved. Not just for his ambition, pacifist nature, kindness, diligence, sparkling wit and genius intellect (and cheekbones that could, honestly, slice haloumi). But also because these traits are part of his identity as an academic, an inventor, an innovator, a reckless and stalwart companion and friend, and a disabled man.
Viktor isn’t defined by his disability but it’s an integral part of his identity. His disability doesn’t make him a hero nor does it villainise him nor does it disempower him and make him a victim.
It’s part of the reason he’s considered a nuanced and refreshing disability representation in fandom. His desperation in Arcane isn’t because he’s disabled, it’s because he’s grappling with the mortality of a terminal diagnosislikeany non-disabled person.
The (Disability) Invalidation Game
Being disabled is often layered with years of trauma from not only rejection, but humiliation, invalidation, disappointment and frustration spent navigating a world that constantly defines you solelyby your disabilities to strip you of your agency, autonomy and individuality.
This can include, but is not limited to, infantilising you and thus invalidating your experiences and struggles, creating — quite often —inaccessible and disappointingly lacking disability support systems for the layperson to navigate, making erroneous assumptions about your capability based off your disabilities, or comedically worse, claiming you’re a disability-friendly venue but having no accessible toilet for disabled folks, no elevator or ramp access to the venue, etc. (like, why??!)
Being constantly invalidated and disappointed by people, systems and spaces that claim to support you is exhausting. Let alone frustrating, harmful and enragingwhen it already feels like you’re constantly fighting to be able to safely navigate, and exist in, our world.
So it’s an understandable frustration when people we admire are unaware of their internalised biases that devalue and erase disabled people’s identities, similarly to the media censorship that is shown in films, books, TV shows, advertisements, etc. The media continues to associate disabilities with naivety and impotency (powerlessness), a poor moral compass, or suggesting characters’ disabilities are their ‘superpower’, e.g. Daredevil, Quasimodo in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Forrest Gump, Captain Hook, the Joker, Harlequin (earlier iterations), etc.
So sometimes our frustration can come across unkind and abrupt, because we’re upset. We’re so used to having to yell to be heard. Not listened to, but just heard. Just making noise to validate our physicalexistence.
Making an effort to listen to input from disabled people on how to have more nuanced, affirming and empowering disability representation is one of the most validating things you can do.
It also makes you a better ally for disabled people.
Writing Disability Representation
That written, my experiences as a disabled person are inherently unique to me.
My mobility experiences and struggles are not identical to others. My conditions and how they affect me are not identical to others. My relationship to my disabilities, including how they fluctuate, is not identical to others. They can be similar but the underlying experience is inherently different.
Even as a disabled writer, I still listen to my disabled peers when writing about disability to ensure it doesn’t perpetuate stereotypes or repeat patterns of poor disability representation. I am just as susceptible to unconscious internalised ableism as non-disabled people.
My un-dismantled ableism was a huge part of the reason that it took years to identify as disabled and access disability supports, which markedly improved my quality of life (pals, baby wipes can only get you so far). Disability prejudice is the underlying reason why each chapter for Arcane Treats takes a month, at least, to write.
Reader is disabled. Not physically like Viktor or because of underlying chronic illnesses like me, but because of her mental illnesses.
I have different mental illnesses and conditions from Reader, which also manifested for entirely different reasons. So a lot of my writing process is engaging with disabled friends for sensitivity reading and/or questions, and doing a heck-tonne of research (and praying to Apollo that my work is worthy enough to avoid submission for divine retribution from Nemesis). That feedback and research has helped me become a better writer, a better artist, and a better critic — and arguably, a better academic.
Conclusion
Personally, we have an obligation as people to listen to diverse and marginalised voices, e.g. LGBTQIA+, BIPOC, disabled, neurodivergent, etc. Even when it’s confronting and it pains us.
It’s part of the journey of living on this space rock hurtling at 30km/s (67,000m/h) around a star called the 'Sun’. But more importantly, it’s the first step to creating a better future for ourselves, others and future generations — similar to what Viktor wants.*
*Let’s ignore his transformation to The Machine Herald at this point because, uh, that’s, um, an essay for another time.
