As the Nana of an 18th month old toddler, I’ve been watching a lot of Moana lately. I had never seen the movie before, but since it’s the favorite, I’ve seen it more times than I can count.
Recently, I’ve been paying special attention to Hei Hei, Moana’s pet chicken. He isn’t very bright. Early in the film one of the islander’s announce that it might be time to eat the chicken since “he seems to lack the basic intelligence required for pretty much everything” as Hei Hei devours a rock. But Moana sticks up for her friend, responding: “Sometimes our strengths lie beneath the surface. Far beneath, in some cases” just as Hei Hei spits up the rock.
My daughter, Ani, is autistic and cognitively impaired. We adopted her from a Bulgarian orphanage when she was five years, 11 months. She weighed 23 pounds. She had never learned to chew or sip. She had never taken a bath or had her hair washed. She had never brushed her teeth. She had never been comforted, rocked or held. Instead, she learned to soothe and comfort herself. She didn’t know Bulgarian, but “spoke” infantile babble because no one had bothered to talk to her.
However, fast forward to today. Ani is a 24-year-old woman who is employed by our local pediatric hospital. With the help and support of therapists, teachers, family and friends (remember, it takes a village to raise a child), Ani is a thriving socialite. She is a part of Special Olympics, Best Buddies and, as evidenced by her social calendar, is busier than most young people.
Here’s why I’m so intrigued: when Ani was in second grade, I remember bemoaning to Mrs. B, Ani’s art teacher, a mother whose son has Down’s syndrome, that I didn’t know how Ani would ever progress; much less get a job and learn how to take care of herself. I had become anxiety ridden thinking about her future.
However, Mrs. B gently encouraged me not to worry because “there is natural support within the community. You will find people who will just automatically help – without being asked or told. They will offer Ani help and she will be able to move forward.” I appreciated her kind words, and of course, hoped they would be true.
Watching Hei Hei, one appreciates that he, too, has natural support within his community. As Moana sails beyond the reef, she hears a clunking sound underneath her canoe. She opens a hatch and out pops Hei Hei. As Hei Hei looks around at the vast ocean, he begins to scream in sheer terror. Moana puts her hand in the water and explains that the water is her friend. Hei Hei has so much trust in Moana, that he jumps right into the water, because if the water is Moana’s friend, it must be his friend, too.
There are parts throughout the movie that show Hei Hei’s “basic lack of intelligence” – he pecks at the hull of the canoe and Maui, “demigod of the wind and sea – friend to all,” gently moves him toward a pile of seeds. The gesture is small and kind, and could go unnoticed, but, as I’ve witnessed, most gestures toward Ani are small and kind, gestures that move her toward the seeds, as well.
Or when Hei Hei falls into the ocean (again); the ocean picks him up, puts him into a wicker barrel, puts the cover on and puts him in the hull. There’s no anger by the ocean, no need to embarrass Hei Hei or shame him; but it is a significant action to keep him safe and alive. I’m reminded of the countless people who have lifted Ani up, brushed her off and kept her safe when we were not able to be there – that natural support Mrs. B. spoke of so many years ago.
Hei Hei and Ani are similar in many ways; they both lack the intelligence that many of us take for granted, they both need countless reminders and reinforcers to stay safe, and one can argue, they are society’s outcasts. The islander wanted to eat Hei Hei because he saw no other use for him. If we hadn’t adopted Ani, we were told she would have been put out into the street to fend for herself by the age of 15 – probably becoming one of the thousands in the human trafficking system. But, Hei Hei and Ani are the lucky ones – they are loved and supported by their respective villages and protected by their very own demigods of the wind and sea.