At Last I See The Light: In Defense of A Walt Disney World Vacation, Part III

Which of the following two experiences do you prefer when you visit the Parks and Resorts?

Are you the type to strut around showcasing your birthday button to every character and Cast Member, willing them to honor you with cheering, singing, and cupcakes?

Or do you like to quietly maneuver your way through the crowds, merging into anonymity, finally escaping those e-mails from your supervisor, phone calls from telemarketers, and every other nagging inconvenience of reality?

Perhaps you can have it both ways.

You are totally seen at Walt Disney World.

Sometimes I wish that I could hire a personal applause intern. Someone to trail me through my daily routine, interrupting the tedium with bursts of clapping for all of the little miracles that I perform. Like, finding my son’s baseball pants at the bottom of his hamper just in time for practice, and realizing that they still smell like Febreze from the day before. Or French-braiding my daughter’s hair with military tautness at ten-thirty at night, even when I’m half-asleep. Sweet! Or even making it to the end of a pay period without plunging past zero in my checking account. Wouldn’t it be nice for our small but victorious gestures to be rewarded once in a while? Nobody follows us around with praise for our mastery of normalcy, telling us we’re killing it, even though we know we are.

And I mean, I’m a somewhat well-adjusted adult. If I have to, I can push forward without a trophy.

When I go to Walt Disney World and a Cast Member makes me feel that I, at 44 years old, am the most important Guest in the Park that day—just by lavishing compliments on my Minnie ears (ones that ANYONE can buy at the kiosk just inside the entrance to Epcot)—I can’t fathom the excitement of a child who has been waiting for years to come face to face with her fairytale prince, and to share the air with his very breath. And then, I think about those children whose everyday battles take ten times more effort to win than the majority of ours do. I don’t struggle with a condition that hinders my hearing or sight, or that prevents me from talking or walking with ease. I don’t have a child with a disability whose health and happiness I worry about at every moment. I don’t suffer from poverty, or from abuse, or from a lack of education. And yet, Walt Disney World sees me. Picks me out of the crowd…and sees me. Who am I to deserve this attention?

One morning on the way to work, I was listening to Shannon Albert’s WDW Prep To Go podcast, Kristen’s February 2020 Trip Report, when this concept about “being seen” struck me.  Shannon’s podcast guest Kristen, whose older daughter lives with a hearing impairment, was describing her family’s experience at the Bon Voyage Breakfast at Trattoria al Forno on the Boardwalk, where Ariel and Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid and Rapunzel and Flynn Rider from Tangled make the rounds. Kristen’s mother had made stickers for the older daughter that said PLEASE SPEAK UP – I’M HARD OF HEARING, with pictures of Mickey Mouse cupping his ear and leaning forward. Kristen explained that at breakfast, when Flynn Rider approached their table, he noticed the sticker immediately. Without drawing attention to it, he knelt down so that he could look into Kristen’s daughter’s eyes. His proximity allowed her to read his lips. In addition, he increased the volume of his voice to combat the background noise.

“And she was just over the moon,” Kristen said of her daughter. “I mean, she’s still talking about it.”

I had been blinking away my tears for a good few minutes, listening to this story, and then Shannon Albert pushed me over the edge. She said, “I love that. It occurs to me that I think people that might not feel seen outside of Disney World do feel seen there.”

Well, that was it. I drove the rest of the way to work sobbing. At Walt Disney World, you are not ordinary. You are noticeable and noteworthy. You deserve a heightened, individualized level of love.

I started to reflect on the seemingly unremarkable moments in which characters and Cast Members made me, my family members, or my friends feel “seen,” despite, or even because of, our ordinariness.

Though the interaction happened in a blink, I will always recall my and my daughter Maddie’s Meet and Greet with Elsa and Anna of Frozen in 2014. As the Photo Pass photographer snapped away, Anna chatted with me animatedly. Suddenly, she gasped.

“Oh, my goodness!” she said. “You’re wearing little snowballs on your ears!”

My fingers fluttered up to touch my earring. Indeed, I was wearing my pearl studs. In a matter of a second, Elsa had swept me up into her world, affirmed me as an integral part of her story.

In November of 2019, I brought Maddie to Walt Disney World for a long weekend as an early Christmas and birthday gift. Our festivities included tickets to The Jonas Brothers Happiness Begins Tour at the Amway Center in downtown Orlando. Maddie wore a Jonas Brothers concert tee-shirt to Epcot that day. “I love the Jonas Brothers!” one Cast Member gushed at Maddie as we exited the queue at the Cool Wash slushie stand. Another Cast Member added, “You should check their Instagram to see if they’re hanging out in the Parks today!” Maddie jumped on the task, open-mouthed at her own audacious mistake as a true fan. Why hadn’t she thought of that?!

Unfortunately, we did not bump into any Jonas Brothers at Epcot. However, over the next few hours, nearly a dozen Cast Members engaged Maddie in conversation over her concert tee. Whether these young men and ladies were truly Jonas Brothers fans didn’t matter. They saw Maddie as a thirteen-year-old girl who had fallen head over heels for a boy band, one whose music she found entertaining, energizing, and comforting. They knew that recognizing her interest in The JoBros was key to recognizing her.

More recently, on the moms trip I took with Chrissy and Julie, an unexpected move by a Cast Member at Art of Animation’s food court rendered us down to emotional sludge. One morning, we decided to hop on The Skyliner and take a ride to Landscape of Flavors for brunch before heading to Disney Springs. As we were checking out with our trays, leaden with eggs and biscuits and that cheesy, salty, crispy mound of heaven they (woefully) call “breakfast potatoes,” the lovely server ringing us up asked us where we were from and what we were celebrating.

“You’re not celebrating any occasion?” Maggie said. “Not a birthday?”

“Not really!” we said. “I mean…girl time? A break from the kids? Loving Disney?”

“You must be celebrating something!” she retorted.

We thought for a second. “We’re celebrating each other!” we said.

And Maggie thought that this was just divine.

Five minutes later, as we were digging into our carb troughs, Maggie waltzed over to our table carrying a tray with three cupcakes. It took us a few moments to realize that she had not stopped by to say hello on her way to another family’s table, or to the dessert refrigerators to replenish stock. She knew just what we needed to commemorate our celebration of one another: three generous, rich chocolate mini cakes, topped with foamy cookies-and-cream frosting and drizzles of chocolate syrup, colored sprinkles, and chocolate candy Mickey ears. Not just one cupcake for us to share—no. We each got our own, hugged in a brown and beige gingham wrapper, as gourmet as you would find in a country bistro.

Maggie set down each of the cupcakes, one at a time, in front of us, and then followed with one fresh fork apiece. She made a simple procedure, part of her everyday routine as a Landscape of Flavors Cast Member, into a flourish of ceremony to honor the friendship that Chrissy, Julie, and I shared…and she had known us for only ten minutes, and would most likely would never see us again.

Photo Credit: Chrissy LaBrecque

At the same time you are totally seen at Walt Disney World, you are totally unseen at Walt Disney World.

As I was packing my carry-on bag on the way out the door to the airport in early March, my father, who was staying with my kids until my husband arrived home, pointed at the decorative case holding two pairs of my Minnie ears (an adorable Etsy purchase) and said, “What do you use those for?”

“It’s a case, Dad,” I said. “To protect my ears in flight.”

“No—I mean, what are you going to do with those ears?”

My dad has been trying hard over the past couple of years to understand everything about my new-ish love affair with Walt Disney World. He is genuinely interested, and has a lot to learn.

“We wear them at the Parks, Dad,” I said. “Everybody does!”

“Is that right!” He was amused. “People just walk around wearing those? I’ll be a sunava gun.”

Not only can you wear ears like Minnie Mouse at Walt Disney World, you can wear Betsey Johnson designer ears, The Little Mermaid kind with reversible aquamarine and pink sequins, Flounder and Sebastian figures, and a bedazzled seashell against a backdrop of fanning coral. The more of a Walt Disney World fan you are, the more vibrant a tribute your outfit to the Films, Parks, Resorts, and Uncle Walt himself, the more you harmonize with everyone and everything around you.

You can wear Birkenstocks, Crocs, or platform leather orthopedic shoes, even if you are 25 years old. (Or white Skechers with a green-and-navy Lands’ End dress…yeesh.) You can ride around on a scooter, and no one looks twice. You can wear shirts that say, “This Teacher Runs on Starbucks and Disney” and “I’m So Fly I Neverland” with a silhouette of Peter Pan, and you can make your husband wear shirts that say “I’m Just Here to Pay for Everything” and “Here Comes The Smolder” and even he will play along. You can wear a puke-yellow poncho from Walgreens in the rain and not care one whit that your sneakers are squishy…because you are screaming at the top of your lungs with dozens of other poncho-wearing, squishy-sneakered people as you plummet down the final drop of Everest and pray for your life.

You can let your belly hang out of your cropped tee shirt. You can wear short shorts because it’s hot and let your thighs rub together and worry about the chafing later. Or, you can wear nude-colored Spanx underneath those short shorts to avoid the chafing, even though the Spanx hit you at mid-thigh. You can be thirty pounds overweight and not be self-conscious, because Walt Disney World is come-as-you-are-and-nothing-less. In fact, you can be thirty pounds overweight and hold a Mickey Ice Cream Bar in one hand and a Dole Whip Upside Down Cake in the other and take a bite out of the turkey leg that your friend is holding out for you, and feel utterly unencumbered by shame.

And don’t forget…you can also be six months old or 89 years old (or even a service dog) and ride The PeopleMover.

Your social status or economic class or thwarted dreams don’t really translate to Walt Disney World, because Walt Disney World equalizes everything that’s unequal or unfair in the real world. Perhaps for once, you are able to join the masses—the masses of the fantasy elite!— without anyone second guessing whether you should be there or not.

So, come to Walt Disney World to be singled out, but also to blend. Either way, it’s a matter of belonging.