CK
There's something Aunty Brandy wants more than anything... but she can't have it, and there's not really anything anyone can do.
I cried.
I cried in the middle of a man camp, on a construction site, in rural Alaska, in the peak of summer, where the Sun doesn’t set, at a children’s cartoon.
It wasn’t the cartoon per say.
I was Atlas. I was the little Dutch boy running out of fingers to plug all the holes, trying desperately to hold the dam of my external persona together.
It was the first time I had seen myself. The first time I had seen my wife.
We are involuntarily childless.
Aunt Brandy, the estranged aunt to everyone’s favorite cartoon dog, Bluey, was the perpetrator and cause of all my tears. This was the first time I had seen childlessness or infertility expressed in the media.
It was a relief to have my experience with infertility and childlessness portrayed. The sadness of longing intertwined with joy of spending time with family succinctly mirrored my grief. You could feel the sorrow emanating from Aunt Brandy throughout the episode and it seemed to blanket even the simple, happy moments. I wanted Aunt Brandy to be me. When you are infertile and childless, it can consume your complete identify. In a media landscape that depicts this so infrequently, it is no wonder that you are instantly magnetized towards any characters with a similar condition. In the moment, it felt great to feel seen and to provide an easy reference to point my friends, family, and even niece and nephew too. In hindsight, it feels sad.
Why does it feel sad?
Bluey’s depiction of childlessness feels sad because I am not Aunt Brandy.
While I appreciate the efforts of Bluey to broach this difficult subject, to bring knowledge of this lifestyle to the masses, and to build sensitivity in the next generation, I am disappointed with the character of Aunt Brandy and the characterization of those who have chosen (voluntarily or involuntarily) to be childless). This is all to common in media depictions of the childless community.
In Bluey, before the episode she appeared, Aunt Brandy is introduced via old family photographs; however, it is clear she is estranged entirely from her family and has not built a relationship with her niece and nephew.Since the episode in which she appears, we have gone 16 episodes without another mention of Aunt Brandy. I understand that it is a children’s TV show that must have simple, concise story lines; however, this simplicity is reflective of the general media and society’s view on childlessness.
In books, television, or movies, we are shown childless characters whose complete identity is enwrapped in their childlessness. Rarely, we hear about these characters dreams or passions. More rarely, these characters reach happiness at the end. In Bluey, Aunt Brandy was barely allowed to be an Aunt. Her sole identity was childlessness.
When you continue to see the few characters in literature that you identify with depicted as single-minded and hopeless, it can be dangerous to stare too close at the reflection. Before long, you begin to see these same characteristics in your own image. Like with Bluey, it was only when I stepped back that I understood.
I think back to my childhood and adventures with my Aunt Janet, a quite librarian, and my Uncle Jerry, a humble handyman. I think back to my wife’s Aunt Laura, a natural gardener, and her Uncle Don, an avid pickleball player. I think back to them and all the diverse role models that I loved and loved me before I even knew what childless was. I just wish the world could meet them, could meet me.
I am not Aunt Brandy nor do I want to be.
Photo by Ajeet Mestry on Unsplash