Maria Rose, I find Little People intriguing, too. I find their physical characteristics very appealing; but even more I am so interested in the way they fulfil their desires for a rich life in the face of so many challenges and bigotry.
I can easily imagine the discomfort of encountering the ignorance of those with limited sophistication & experience of the wider world, who see them as only "freak-show" jokes.
I've only gotten to know dwarfs in lit & film - here are a few I recommend:
The Station Agent [
http://thestationagent.com/reviews.html]
The Dork of Cork [
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0446670006/002-1478932-1910439?v=glance]
Maybe the Moon [
http://www.literarybent.com/mtm_02_about.html]
Just now I discovered the Little People of America website, which has chatrooms as well as news and info. [
http://www.lpaonline.org/resources.html]
And that led me to this very cool article, about the dwarf star of The Station Agent, written by a member of the community: [
http://www.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,3604,1177330,00.html]
Peter Dinklage is a hunk. Those of you who have seen his portrayal of Finbar McBride in the indie film sensation The Station Agent, will know what I mean.
By celebrating his leading man looks I don't mean to demean Dinklage's tremendous feat in portraying the alienation, the social anxiety and the loneliness that can characterise what it means to be a dwarf in these modern times. I am confident that the critics will praise him for that. Dinklage's sex symbol status, rather than his acting ability, interests me because it has made him popular with a different crowd, and in my experience, one that's much more difficult to please.
As a 37-year-old woman who - like Dinklage - has achondroplasia, the most common form of dwarfism, I encounter that crowd almost every day. It is not unusual for me to be heckled as I walk to work, or a restaurant or movie, by people who expend a great deal of energy to let me know that my short arms and legs are enough to make me the object of their disdain. This mockery is a jarring reminder of my physical difference because, most of the time, I don't dwell on it.
I will never accept the "shock jock" mentality that considers the derision of people with dwarfism to be one of the last bastions of humour on the politically incorrect frontier - despite efforts by the Little People of America and the UK's Restricted Growth Association to educate people about the realities of the condition.
I am a professional woman with a masters degree, and I know dwarfs who are doctors, lawyers, teachers, plumbers and writers - and yet in the media we are still more often portrayed in the unlikely role of elf or circus entertainer.
When people laugh at me, all they see is my difference. The alienation of dwarfism arises not because we can't reach things on high shelves at the supermarket, but out of the stares, comments and laughter of people who are determined to remind us that we are different, when deep inside dwarfs tend to not feel so different at all. We're just trying to do our shopping like everybody else.
Peter Dinklage has changed all that. When People magazine included him in its annual Sexiest Man Alive issue, dwarfs had finally arrived. And those of us involved in educating the public about dwarfism have learned an important lesson.
Within the dwarf community, we've noticed an almost imperceptible change in the air. Suddenly, with The Station Agent's arrival, male dwarfs between the ages of 18 and 45 are being stopped on the street, not to be taunted, but to be congratulated on an excellent performance. (My 4ft 1in fiance gets mistaken for him all the time.) Many times even I've encountered the quizzical gaze of a passer-by, which is then followed up by a thoughtful nod, as if at that moment they are finally learning something.
Maybe those individuals are pondering that, deep down, we are all alike - but I'll settle for them recognising that I am a bit like that hottie in the film.
