to a T Provides Surprising Insight Into Life With a Disability

I’ve been thinking a lot about the nature of disability and how people with disabilities navigate the world. These aren’t random thoughts; it’s part of the health science degree that I’m studying part-time (if, for whatever reason, you were wondering why I’m not on this site as much anymore, that’s why). The study, combined with work, has at times been all-consuming. Obviously, none of this has stopped me from playing video games. One of these games, which are supposed to be my break from my heady uni thoughts, got me thinking about people with disabilities, due to an unexpected piece of positive representation.

The game in question is to a T, the debut game from Uvula, the new studio founded by Katamari creator Keita Takahashi. Like the Katamari series, to a T has that particular brand of pastel-coloured whimsy that has become synonymous with Takahashi. The concept of the game, on its face, seems goofy, and possibly pointing towards meta-humour.

The main character of the game, a gender ambiguous 13-year-old named Teen by default, is permanently stuck in a T-pose. For those unaware, a T-pose is the default state for a 3D model of a person/bipedal character — legs straight, arms out. However, this idea is mostly played straight, and the T-posed Teen is never the butt of a joke. That’s not to say that to a T is exactly grounded in reality. The game goes to some wild places by the end of its 5-6 hour runtime, and I won’t spoil it, but I sincerely doubt you can guess the origin of Teen’s T-pose. However, I should go back to the start, because I think that is where the game is at its most evocative.

To a T has an episodic structure, complete with theme songs for both the opening and ending of each episode. The opening song, as with some of the best sitcom themes, lays out the main premise.  

You can see a couple of things straight away. Firstly, there is the positive messaging of the refrain — You are the perfect shape, followed by Teen’s struggle to be independent — I want to change P J. I want to dry my face, I want to use the restroom by myself/The little things are hard for me.

Now, before I continue describing the opening of to a T and why I like it so much, I need to put my academic hat on for a moment and talk about something called the social model of disability. Don’t worry, it’s not staying on long. 

Basically, we used to see disability as something that needs to be cured, because the disability could prevent someone from fully participating in society. If someone has some form of impairment, that is what is disabling them. These days, we don’t see someone’s impairment itself as a disability, but a lack of accommodations in the world around them that is the cause of disability. For a basic example, if someone is paraplegic and requires a wheelchair to get around. What makes this person disabled is not the paraplegia itself, but the fact that not everywhere has sufficient ramps for wheelchair access. Therefore, the onus has shifted from the individual to the wider population and governments, as Costanza et al. (1989) say, “we live in a society!”

Now, back to the game. After the theme song in most episodes, you go through Teen’s morning routine. In the first episode, there is a nonsensical minigame where you use the toilet with button-mashing and help from your pet dog. Then you decide what to wear and get dressed, again with the help of your dog. Moving Teen is awkward. All the controls in this game are awkward, which is nothing new for a Keita Takahashi game, but it feels more deliberate this time.

Back in the bathroom, Teen shows off his special tap, custom-made by his mum — it pushes down to point up so they can wash their face, hands-free. Then it’s breakfast time. It’s cereal, eaten with an extra-long spoon that accommodates Teen’s permanently outstretched arms. Their toothbrush is also suitably long, as is the sandwich you buy for their school lunch from one of a number of friendly giraffes littered throughout the town.

I hope you can see how it lines up: Teen would be disabled by their T-pose, but isn't because they have the extra-long utensils, or the shop that sells sandwiches they can eat, or the helpful dog that can be seen as a stand-in or a support worker. It’s a view of how things should be for people with disabilities.

By the end of the first episode, there is some conflict in the form of school bullies. They don't stay bullies for long, because as you can see in the opening song, Teen learns how to fly by spinning like a tornado and saves one of them. I was worried that the story might focus on this newfound superpower as a means of being accepted, and falling into the trope about people with disabilities being accepted only if they can prove they are useful. It does not, thankfully, though it would be better if that weren’t part of the story at all. As I said before, it gets weird, even as it sticks to a broad but sweet sentiment about the importance of accepting people as they are and celebrating what makes us unique.

If this seems like I'm over-analysing to a T, it's because I am to some extent. It's easy just to see this as a silly, sweet little game, but I think it's worthwhile to celebrate when a game does some form of representation well. Now I need to rest my brain for a bit. I don't know if it's entirely healthy to put Seinfeld quotes in APA referencing.