Yes, Pixar, Art IS Therapy
Painting by one of the chimpanzees who befriended Jane Goodall. The painting really has nothing to do with this Musing, but I love Goodall’s work and her life story, and a post about art seemed as good an excuse as any to share.
[Reprinted from a March 2026 Substack]
The Guardian posted an article titled “Pixar chief says LGBTQ+ plot elements cut from Elio as company is ‘not making therapy’.” I read the article from start to finish and found nothing redeeming in Pixar’s explanations.
First, Pixar said they didn’t want to interfere with parents’ right to discuss “certain subjects” with their children.
Next, Pixar said they want to focus on “more commercially appealing films”—and so I was pleased to see that both Elio and Win or Lose (another pre-censored Pixar movie, this one “sanitized” of its trans character), bombed at the box office. If Pixar’s directors thought commercial success could be ensured by eliminating gay and trans characters, obviously they thought wrong.
Lastly, Pixar dismissed the value of inclusivity in movies, saying they are “not making therapy.” (I pictured the Pixar exec making that comment with an audible sniff, the kind of sniff the villain in Disney movies makes when scoffing at the scrappy young hero who ultimately saves the day.)
As both creator and consumer of stories, including stories for children, I find their arguments wholly unconvincing, in addition to being morally repugnant. I’ll tackle them in reverse order, below.
Art is therapy
Stories of every kind—books, movies, television shows, plays, poems, songs, and myths—can create a sense of connectedness with others, and can help develop empathy (which is in short supply, right now). Stories can not only manifest the veritable rainbow of existence, but also affirm that this rainbow is good. And stories can be a way of escaping too-harsh reality, offering hope in a world that sometimes feels hopeless.
Most of all, stories can be a way of imagining the world as it could be, if our actions were guided by kindness, courage, honesty, and integrity.
In other words, art is quintessentially therapy, with the power to help us evolve into better versions of ourselves.
For the magic of stories to work, kids need to be able to find characters who are different from, and also characters who are like, themselves, and they need to see the possibility of a happily-ever-after for themselves.
What does that look like in practice, for those of us building those stories?
Gay or trans kids whose parents or teachers or peers are less than supportive deserve stories in which people celebrate them for who they are. And so do kids who are subjected to bigotry for their skin color, their parents’ immigration status, or for any other reason outside their control. And kids living in war-torn places, kids whose parents can’t afford food or adequate healthcare, kids whose parents and teachers and caregivers are violently stolen away by heavily armed and masked immigration authorities . . . all children deserve art affirming that they are unique and worthy of love, and hinting at the possibility of a world in which that love is freely given.
Disney, you give lip service to wishing on a star, dreams coming true. Time to put your money where your mouth is, for all children.
“All children” means all children
I keep reading the argument that the public is tired of DEI which, the argument goes, focuses only on diversity and thereby excludes white, straight, Christian children.
After I sigh and shake my head, I can agree that of course white, straight children in families that identify as Christian should be included in children’s stories. My grandson is white and his family identifies as Christian, and I want him to see himself in stories overcoming obstacles great and small.
But a story containing only white, straight, Christian characters is laughably outdated. Our world is diverse, and any attempt to whitewash that (what an ironic term!) is just going to leave children confused, because . . .
Diversity is part of life
According to the latest census and related polls, “50% of U.S. children under the age of 18 are members of ethnic minority groups” (Wikipedia, citing the government website); 9.3% of Americans identify as LGTBQ+ (Gallup); 28% of Americans identify as atheist or do not affiliate with any particular religion; about 3% identify as Muslim; and about the same number are Jewish (Statista).
In childcare and school, in sports and band and choir, in neighborhood gatherings, and at the park, white, straight, Christian children are going to meet people who are LGBTQ+, who have different skin color, who are Muslim or Jewish, etc.
Parents can’t change that by presenting entertainment in monochrome.
And industry leaders shouldn’t kowtow to political pressure to do so.
Another aside: I honestly don’t think it’s the parents who are driving this effort. It appears to me to be simply performative appeasement of the current administration, mostly by politicians looking for an easy way to prove their loyalty.
Which leads to my next comment . . .
Calling out doublespeak
On the issue of appeasement: the administration’s language around these issues is egregiously disingenuous, and the “anti-woke” verbiage that claims to be fighting “discriminatory” DEI practices is classic doublespeak.
As the Tom Hanks’ character in Ladykillers says, “to flog a horse, that if not dead is at this point in mortal danger of expiring,” I will point out that the “I” in DEI stands for INCLUSION; any pressure to EXCLUDE non-white, non-Christian, and/or LGBTQ+ children from stories is discriminatory by definition (not to mention un-Christian, for anyone claiming to follow Christ’s words and actions).
“Certain subjects”
In the article, a Disney+ representative defends the deletion of gay and trans characters from Pixar movies thusly: “When it comes to animated content for a younger audience, we recognise that many parents would prefer to discuss certain subjects with their children on their own terms and timeline.”
Since this is a post about stories for children, I’ll keep it clean and say only: Poppycock. Or, if you prefer: Balderdash.
Sure, parents want to talk about the birds and the bees with their children “on their own terms and timeline,” and those conversations should be developmentally appropriate for the child’s age.
But we’re not talking about including an explicit sex scene in a G-rated movie! We’re talking about a male character who loves his pink bicycle.
Ultimately, it is largely irrelevant whether or when parents want to have a conversation about sexual orientation and gender identity. Their child is going to meet people who are gay and trans, because gay and trans people exist. Refusing to talk about it won’t change reality. And, if their child is gay or trans, refusing to talk about it is only going cause their child harm; by contrast, seeing a movie affirming to their child that they are good and lovable just as they are sends the message every child needs most.
What children need
In addition to stories for adults, I have written and occasionally still write stories for children. I’m also mother, grandmother, and former teacher. What follows is a lengthy aside—chalk it up to my passion for writing, and my love of children.
First, the conversation shouldn’t get so mired in concerns about profitability that it completely loses sight of what children actually need.
(Remember the scene in the movie Elf, where the cold-hearted publisher rejects the idea of re-printing a children’s book that is missing pages, because of the money it will cost him? Let us not allow ourselves to become “that guy.”)
But a focus on profit is only part of the problem. There’s also a related but equally mistaken argument that children’s stories need to be BIG and FLASHY in order to be “commercially appealing.” And that’s problematic, too.
As much as I love wild adventures in which the cape-wearing, bad-guy-fighting hero overcomes seemingly insurmountable odds, I also think small children i.e your average Pixar movie attendees, need characters who demonstrate the heroism in small acts of perseverance, self-sacrifice, and kindness, stories with diverse characters and pint-sized triumphs.
The television show, Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, is a perfect example.
Another example is Ezra Jack Keats’ Whistle for Willie. In Whistle for Willie, a child named Peter works hard until he masters the art of whistling, so he can whistle for his dog. The point of the story is the value of perseverance and creative problem-solving; the fact that Peter is Black means Black children get to see themselves in the story. For that matter, so do children with pets, children with two parents in the home, children who live in urban areas, and any child who has ever desperately wanted to do something just beyond his/her/their capabilities. All of that has intrinsic value in a children’s story.
What the story does not have is an evil wizard with skeletal hands threatening destruction of the world as we know it. If makers and purveyors of art for children insist that every story include BIG SCARY themes, because that’s where the money is, we will all be the poorer for it. (Wordplay intentional)
One more aside on this issue: the children’s show Stillwater also epitomizes the ideal. The three main characters, siblings who are (gasp) kind to each other, experience small, ordinary problems. A quiet, gentle panda helps them navigate their problems by asking simple questions that help the characters find answers within themselves. No bombs or superheroes needed . . .
Is it commercially viable? Maybe so, maybe not. But it is exactly the kind of art real children need.
And it is beautiful. (By the way, I am obsessed with this show.) Which leads to . . .
Take a peace break
My suggestion?
Go watch an episode of Stillwater, and allow yourself to be reminded that, outside of Pixar and politics, the world is full of people who manage to be kind, in spite of whatever struggles they may be facing.
Some of them even manage to create high quality, engaging stories for children that, by virtue of their kindness, are marvelously therapeutic.
Postscript 1: Here are just a few resources for anyone who wants to read more about the importance of diversity in kids’ literature:
All of these articles point to the benefit, to children, of diversity and inclusion in stories and, conversely, the harm to children who feel they are invisible (because there are no characters like them in movies and books). Early immersion in diversity develops empathy, and we could all use more of that!
Postscript 2: No part of this post was written (or endlessly revised) using AI. And in case you’re wondering, my love of em-dashes predates AI by several decades, so there!
