Not My Fairy Tale: My Problem with Disney Movies

The Truth About Why I Never Bought Into Disney’s Magic

Aug 28, 2024

There was a time when Disney movies were meant to embody the magic of a child's dreams, where anything is possible and happily ever afters are assured. Well, they turned out to be anything but enchanting for me. My relationship with Disney Classics has always been a little more complicated than that. From endless replays in elementary school to growing up and finding the glaring lack of representation, these movies seem less like a fairy tale and more like a reminder: their world was never meant for someone like me.

The Early Days: Overexposure and Exhaustion

Let me take you back to elementary school when it seemed like my teachers had the same movies in their arsenal: Pinocchio, Bambi, Snow White, Cinderella—on and on it went. Every recess during the cold months or when it was raining outside, it was always the same cycle of Disney movies.

As a kid, I started by hating these movies from pure exhaustion. Imagine being made to sit and watch the same stories for days until you can recite all dialogue in your sleep. That's where my Disney fatigue first kicked off—a deep-seated annoyance that made me cringe when I would hear those titles mentioned. And truthfully, no matter how much time passes, you will never get me to like Pinocchio, Snow White, Cinderella, or Bambi.

Growing Up: The Realization of Exclusion

Years later, my annoyance evolved into something more profound. It wasn't a question of being fed up with the same stories told a hundred times; it was a question of what I wasn't seeing. I didn't see any characters who looked like me in those beloved Disney classics. None had brown skin, hair like mine, or family that looked anything like mine. I realized these fairy tales weren't written for me or anybody who looked like me. Stories that should have inspired and delighted now seemed alienating and far away.

She was a frog for the majority of the movie…

And before anyone tries to bring up Uncle Remus from Song of the South, he doesn't count. That character, steeped in stereotypes and controversy, only highlights the problem. It wasn't until 1946 that Disney even introduced Uncle Remus, and let's be honest, that portrayal did more harm than good. The first actual Black character in a Disney animated movie didn't appear until The Princess and the Frog in 2009, with Princess Tiana, over 70 years after Disney's first animated feature, Snow White. Mind you, she was a damn frog for the majority of the movie, but I guess.

Black Disney princesses are breaking the glass (slipper) ceiling for little kids.

The Problem with Disney's "Magic

Disney has long been hailed for its "magic," but there is a catch. It's a very catered, sanitized version of life whereby only certain people can be the heroes, princesses, or kids having fun. For all its speech about dreams and wonder, Disney's classic lineup told me—without ever saying it outright—that my story didn't belong in their world.

Halle Bailey as Ariel. Brandy as Cinderella

Representation Matters: Why Diversity Is More Than a Buzzword

Diversity has become a buzzword, but representation means a great deal more. It's all about seeing oneself reflected not just in the movies people consume but also knowing their experiences, culture, and identity matter. Failing to offer this sort of representation sent an unmistakable message about who was allowed to have a happily ever after. Oh, and—spoiler alert—no one who looked like me.

Where Do We Go From Here?

In recent years, Disney has progressed towards more inclusive storytelling, but the classics still loom large in our cultural imagination. They're the ones still re-released, remastered, and rewatched. And even though they hold a special place with so many, they'll always remind me of what was missing from them—a fairytale that wasn't mine.

No, Disney classics weren't my fairy tale. That is quite alright, though, for I have learned to find magic in stories that include me—in tales where my skin, hair, and experiences are part of the narrative, not an afterthought.