Writing Shame
One of the most compelling disability stories of late concerns the playwright Arthur Miller. After Miller died almost two years ago, he was remembered in numerous obituaries and in a public memorial service at Broadway’s Majestic Theatre. He was noted for such plays as Death of a Salesman and The Crucible, as well as for his political activities – such as his refusal to name names before the House Un-American Activities Committee and his outspoken opposition to the Vietnam War.
Miller was a well-known and highly regarded public figure. What was not known is that Miller had a son with Down syndrome who spent most of his life in a hellish institution. Marcie Roth, now the director of the National Spinal Cord Injury Association, met Daniel when he was a child at the Southbury Training School, a place Roth says “you wouldn’t want your dog to live.” Miller never openly acknowledged the existence of his son, Daniel, and rarely visited him.
I urge you to read the whole story, which was published in an article in Vanity Fair of all places.
It speaks volumes about the multiple ways that people construct disability as a source of shame, and spend enormous psychic energy defending and protecting that view. Another powerful fictional example can be found in the best selling Memory Keeper’s Daughter by Kim Edwards. A disability-focused analysis of the book and the critical response to it can be found here.
