'What it means to be human': Lessons from Jimothy, Seattle's viral raccoon

If the name Jimothy means anything to you, there's a good chance you're among the millions who have fallen under the social media spell of Seattle's newest mascot: a rascally raccoon with a spinal condition.

Jimothy's fame stems from a recent viral video that revealed the animal's unique physical appearance, sparking curiosity and delight in viewers. Something about this little "trash panda" that only vaguely resembles a classic raccoon has made Jimothy famous enough to earn bobblehead immortality, star in a special google result surprise and basically become the world's newest meme queen and/or short king. (Like so much about this diva, Jimothy's gender remains an intriguing mystery.)

So goes the internet, but what are the deeper lessons we can take away from the way the world is embracing Jimothy, and what can our collective interest in a raccoon tell us mere humans about ourselves? To find out, we spoke with Helen Deutsch, professor of English and disability studies.

Why do you think so many people around the world have responded so strongly to Jimothy?

I regularly teach a class on disability aesthetics, deformity and beauty, and I can tell you that, throughout time, people have always been fascinated by physical difference. Scholar Rosemarie Garland-Thomson, who is a collaborator with our UCLA Disability Studies program, wrote a book about the cultural history of staring. In it, she talks about "wonder" as a much more generous way to think about what captures people's imaginations about various kinds of physical differences.

One thing that makes me a little uncomfortable about the reaction to Jimothy is people taking the "even he deserves love" angle. There's a long history of disability associated with pity that the disability rights movement has rightfully pushed back on. (There's a very important early book in that line called "No Pity.") Sentimentality does not do anyone any favors, because the story itself is enough: There's this really cool creature who doesn't need to be fixed, who is living its best life and who has captured our imagination.

How can people use the example of Jimothy to reframe how they think and talk about disability?

In my own work, I talk about Alexander Pope and his physical deformity, which was very similar to Jimothy's, or Samuel Johnson, who had so many health conditions he was called the "Caliban of Literature."

Everyone is or will be connected to disability - it's part of the human condition, which is a fundamental truth that a lot of people don't want to admit or think about. The scholar I mentioned before, Rosemarie Garland-Thomson, coined a great term, "the normate," the ideal of "normal" that none of us can ever really achieve but that we relentlessly measure ourselves against.

We free ourselves when we get past the idea that disability is something to cure, overcome or fix. Throughout time, people with disabilities have added so much to our culture - even if you just think about the 18th century, you have authors like Pope, composers like Beethoven. I will never understand this idea that somehow people with disabilities are alien to us … who exactly are the "us"? We're all connected. Even though he's a raccoon, I think Jimothy can remind us that disability is at the very heart of what it means to be human.

Can you talk a little about the role that Jimothy being an animal plays in our reaction?

There's a memoir that I taught last term called "Easy Beauty" by Chloé Cooper Jones, who was born with a deformity not unlike what Jimothy has, and she thinks about all kinds of definitions of beauty in the book. It starts with her in Rome, looking at classical proportions and works of art. She keeps talking about this definition of beauty that Iris Murdoch came up with, looking at a bird called a kestrel, a small hawk. The animal's beauty takes you out of yourself and allows you to connect with something beyond. I don't know if we would describe Jimothy as beautiful - maybe we would - but animals enable that.

The response to Jimothy has been overwhelmingly supportive, empathetic and positive - a rarity for the internet. Most people will never actually see or interact with Jimothy, so how would you like them to translate their reaction to him in their real lives?

It's a nice example of difference being celebrated, not stigmatized, especially if we think of it in terms of Rosemarie's idea of wonder as a way of transforming the limits of what we know and embracing the variation that's all around us. I think that's great, and also an opportunity for us to challenge ourselves and those around us to think about these issues in a more nuanced, sensitive way.

Ultimately, what do you think our obsession with Jimothy says about us all?

What do you think it says?

Especially at a time when so many feel tired, frightened and stressed, stories like this have the potential to remind us that people do care deep down, and that there are things that can inspire us to rally together. The challenge seems to be making that more than just a clickable social media moment.

I think that's right. We are all living with a lot of daily challenges, physically and psychologically; our resilience is constantly being tested. Seeing this creature in a body that might not be the easiest - although we don't know what Jimothy's experience really is - who seems to be thriving on its own terms is a very heartening thing.