Dear Pixar,
When I first heard about your parent company, Walt Disney Studios, launching a streaming service called Disney+, I had no inkling that the “plus” would symbolize inclusion.
I completely missed the reports detailing how your new series of short animated films, SparkShorts, aimed to empower women and people of color in leadership roles within animation. It wasn’t until the much-anticipated Disney+ premiered on November 12 and featured a SparkShorts film called “Float” that I grasped the significance of this initiative.
At first glance, “Float” narrates the tale of a father who attempts to conceal his infant son’s extraordinary ability to fly—a trait that distinguishes him from his peers. However, beneath its surface lies a poignant metaphor for autism and a heartfelt appeal to celebrate differences in a society that often pressures conformity.
I was heartened to discover that “Float” draws inspiration from the real-life experiences of its creator, Marco Alcid Rubio, whose son is on the autism spectrum, marking the first Pixar film featuring Filipino Americans in leading roles.
As a father of a daughter with autism, I resonated with Rubio’s narrative and was captivated by the film’s insightful symbolism, especially the recurring motif of the dandelion—seen by some as a weed and by others as a lovely flower. Dandelions stand out in manicured lawns, much like how autistic children often stand apart from their neurotypical counterparts. (My daughter, age 5, will forever be a unique bloom in my eyes.)
I initially believed that “Float” would be a remarkable milestone in your studio’s animation legacy. However, shortly before Thanksgiving, my social media feeds buzzed with excitement over a second SparkShorts film titled “Loop,” set to premiere on January 10, 2020. Directed by Clara Milsom, this film centers on a non-verbal autistic girl paired with a talkative boy on a canoeing adventure. They must learn to navigate their differences to complete their journey across an urban lake.
Seeing the promotional poster for “Loop” left me in awe—not just because of the vibrant, rainbow-hued font (a nod to neurodiversity), but also because the autistic girl depicted is a person of color. This is a HUGE step forward, so let me emphasize: THE AUTISTIC GIRL IS A PERSON OF COLOR.
In popular media, children on the spectrum are predominantly portrayed as young white boys, despite autism affecting children globally. While it’s true that boys in the U.S. are diagnosed with autism four times more frequently than girls (1 in 37 versus 1 in 151, according to the CDC), Milsom’s choice to diversify the representation of those impacted by autism is a breakthrough to be celebrated.
I eagerly anticipate whether “Loop” will fulfill the promise of its script, ideally informed by the voices of autistic people of color. But “Float” has already shed light on the internal battles many parents face as they strive to accept their children for who they are.
One particularly emotional scene in “Float” features the father, overwhelmed with frustration, exclaiming, “Why can’t you just be normal?” Though these six words are the film’s sole dialogue, they carry immense weight. What parent of a child with special needs hasn’t found themselves grappling with that sentiment at some point in their journey toward acceptance? These are the emotions that parents harbor but often feel unable to express for fear of judgment.
These feelings aren’t about the child; rather, they stem from our frustrations with why everything can feel so challenging. Take, for example, when your child is sensitive to food textures and tastes, preferring only smoothies and specific crunchy snacks—leaving you constantly anxious about their nutrition. Feeding your child shouldn’t be this difficult, but it often is.
Following the father’s outburst, shame washes over his son’s face, as if he is silently asking, “Why can’t you love me just as I am?” This entire scene stirred deep emotions within me. (I’m not crying, you’re crying.)
In a recent interview, Rubio reflected, “Accepting my son’s autism diagnosis took years. The short may last only six minutes, but it took time for me to embrace him fully.” He shared how he once urged his son to stop spinning—only to later realize that it was a calming mechanism for him.
I recall when I shared my daughter’s autism diagnosis with my aunt Maria, who replied, “What is normal?” and then recounted her encounter with an autistic boy. She concluded with a wise saying that resonates with me: “Normal is whatever we define it to be.”
In truth, every child enters this world as a unique individual. There is no one else like them. Even identical twins differ in countless aspects. None of us—neurotypical or otherwise—are meant to fit in seamlessly. Like dandelions, we all stand out in our own special ways.
During this season of gratitude, I want to express my appreciation to Pixar for acknowledging us, the parents of children with special needs. Thank you for recognizing our children and shifting their narratives from the edges to the forefront, fostering greater understanding and acceptance. Thank you for promoting diversity and inclusion behind the scenes. Thank you for redefining what “normal” can look like in animation.
Here’s to a new era of storytelling that validates us all. If you’re interested in learning more about home insemination, check out our other blog post at this link. For more resources on pregnancy and home insemination, visit Kindbody.
In summary, Pixar’s innovative storytelling has significantly influenced my understanding of my daughter’s unique needs, while also shedding light on broader issues of representation within the autism community. The emotional depth of films like “Float” and “Loop” offers valuable insights into acceptance and love, reminding us that every child is beautifully unique.
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