What Queer Eye Gets Right About Disability
As a disabled woman, I’m always excited to see disability portrayed on screen because our stories are so rarely told — and even more rarely told by our community. But nervousness closely trails that excitement since several insensitive tropes plague disability representation in the media: the tragic disabled victim, the inspirational disabled hero, the disabled person who only serves to advance the story of a caretaker.
When I heard that the newest season of Queer Eye dropped an episode featuring a wheelchair user, I tuned in with cautious hope for an authentic, multifaceted and pity-free makeover.
And thankfully, my hopes were realized.
The episode begins by introducing us to Wesley Hamilton, a 30-year-old Black man who became paralyzed from the waist down after sustaining gunshot injuries seven years ago. Since becoming disabled, Wesley has pursued a great deal of personal transformation and considers his disability to be the best thing that has ever happened to him. He is an award winning bodybuilder as well as the founder of the organization Disabled But Not Really, offering fitness and nutrition programs for people with disabilities.
Wesley is at an exciting chapter in his life. His identity has evolved since becoming disabled, and he’s ready to elevate his style and public persona, with a little help from the Fab Five, to reflect who he has become. “People look at me and say, still the same Wes. I’m ready to let go of my old life and grow into my new one.”
The way Wesley discusses his disabled identity resonates deeply with me, as an occasional wheelchair user with limited mobility. Becoming disabled has required many years of identity work to understand who I am now that my life, career and activities have fundamentally changed. Hearing Wesley open up about his process is the first time I’ve seen this intimate and nuanced part of my life reflected back to me on television.
Interior design expert Bobby Berk’s pronouncement that “Wesley doesn’t need anybody to do anything for him,” is an unfortunate exaggeration, as none of us — disabled or not — can live without depending on other people. Normalizing caregiving relationships is an important part of supporting disability culture and should not signal a lack of independence.
Nevertheless, Bobby’s goal of maximizing Wesley’s independence at home is crucially important, and his handiwork greatly improves Wesley’s day to day access. Bobby’s team renovates Wesley’s home to be fully wheelchair accessible and relocates his washer and dryer to the main floor so he can do his own laundry.
Wesley exclaims, “I’m gonna wash clothes every day!”, expressing a specific type of disability joy I vibed hard with. It’s incredibly meaningful to gain access to an aspect of your life that you’ve been living without, as mundane as it may seem to a nondisabled person.
Exuberant grooming expert Jonathan Van Ness jokes that he wants to “get Wesley to take his shirt off and take very many gorgeous Instagram pictures,” an important public affirmation of Wesley as a sexual being, an often disregarded aspect of the disabled identity.
Though the Fab Five are there to support Wesley, they end up learning as much from him as he does from them. Tan gets an education in adaptive clothing, learning that Wesley hasn’t been wearing outerwear because a jacket can get stuck in the wheels of his chair. For the final event of the show, Tan arranges for Wesley to don a custom made suit with an altered jacket and an elasticated waist in the back of his pants.
The name of both the episode and Wesley’s brand, “Disabled But Not Really”, is unsurprisingly controversial within the disability community. Personal preference around nomenclature varies widely, with some individuals preferring a person first language (person with a disability), others preferring identity first language (disabled person) and others preferring to distance themselves from the word altogether (i.e. differently-abled). I can understand why proponents of identify first language, the most common identifier among disability activists, could interpret the name of the episode as invalidating to the disabled identity.
I personally use identity first and person first language interchangeably, but I view Wesley’s meaning of “Disabled But Not Really” differently.
What I hear Wesley saying throughout the episode is: I am disabled, I am proud to be disabled, and the word “disabled” does NOT mean “less able”. Which is absolutely true.
The word “disabled” is used by scholars and activists to signify that the physical and social world we have constructed is not accessible to people with disabilities, thereby people with disabilities are disabled by the society we live in — not by our brains or bodies. Disability civil rights leaders coined the term, versus the previously used “handicapped”.
Nevertheless, our society continues to mistakenly understand the word disabled to mean “less able” or “not able”, implying that disabled people are less capable than our nondisabled peers due to the way our brains and bodies work. This definition is clearly steeped in ableism, perpetuating a stigma against disability and distracting us from the most important work we need to accomplish together: building more just systems that include disabled people in every aspect of life, ranging from healthcare to the built environment to the workplace and beyond.
Are there whiffs of ableism in this episode? Yes. Are there hints of inspiration porn? Absolutely. Karamo’s final line “We’re ready to watch one of our most inspirational heroes ever!” should have landed on the cutting room floor.
But overall, Wesley is presented in his full, dynamic, multifaceted glory — as a disabled Black father who is living a very full life.
As exciting as it is to see a disabled person on Queer Eye, we can’t rely on Wesley to be representative of all of our experiences. We aren’t all athletes. We haven’t all developed disabilities as adults. Our disabilities vary widely, our community embodies every combination of intersectional identity and we each lead extremely different lives. Some of us, like Wesley, feel that becoming disabled is the best thing that ever happened to us — and many of us don’t.
This wasn’t just great episode of Queer Eye — as one of the most popular episodes of the season, it proves the concept of a disability focused spinoff show. How about a reality show that explores disability culture and identity? That actually dives into meal planning and dietary restrictions in an inclusive way? That adapts homes affordably and shares practical tips that we could use in our real lives?
Netflix, we’re so ready to see our stories and experiences more fully represented.
Natasha Walton writes about Diversity & Inclusion and disability representation. She founded Tech Disability Project and you can follow her work on Instagram.
Thank you to Liz Travis Allen, Brianne Benness and Jessi Gold for your feedback and guidance on this post.
