

And those pressures, she says, can take a major toll. “In my family, one of the main things is about not letting your family down … especially when you know they’ve made sacrifices to come to this country, to send you to good schools, to live in certain neighborhoods, just the importance of not letting your family down and trying to hold up to their expectations,” she says.įirst-generation children constantly “get the message that we need to be more,” says Lemus, whose parents immigrated to the United States from Guatemala. But her song reveals how limiting perfectionism can be.Īdelakun, whose parents came to the US from Trinidad and Tobago, says the message is relatable for many immigrants’ children – including her. The song that stands out: “What Else Can I Do?”Īt first glance, Isabela looks like she has it all she can make flowers out of thin air and tosses her long hair like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures/Everett Collection The perfectionist who feels she can’t fail I want to be seen.’ A lot of times, the younger generations, what I’ve seen over the years, they want to be seen (by their families), they want the acknowledgment at least, and they’re not getting it,” Lemus says. “She’s trying to communicate with her grandmother – ‘Look, this is what I’m experiencing. Jenny Lemus, a psychotherapist in Chicago, says she heard feelings many of her clients have expressed for years in Mirabel’s song, “Waiting on a Miracle.” Then she comes back home and she’s kind of put in her place and told, ‘you actually don’t have anything to contribute.’” … She’s the only one that’s (leaving the house) and going out, talking to people. She’s the only one that’s in touch with the community. I think that’s why Mirabel’s character resonates,” says Sammartino, whose parents came to the United States from Nicaragua.
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They come here, they establish a life, and then we’re born into this duality, and we’re not seen in one, and we’re not seen in the other.
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“Our parents come here fleeing war, poverty, violence. “Mirabel was really the glue to the family, but no one was really seeing it,” Adelakun says.Īnd it’s no coincidence that her character is someone many can identify with, says Mara Sammartino, a therapist in Fairfield, California. But in the end, her power is in seeing her family members for who they are and doing all she can to keep them together. Mirabel is the only member of the Madrigal family who doesn’t get a gift. We later learn that the magic and the family’s enchanted house have a darker side, originating in a traumatic moment after the family was forced to flee their home, trudge through the wilderness and cross a river seeking safety. The song that stands out: “Waiting On a Miracle”Īt the beginning of “Encanto,” Mirabel introduces us to the Madrigal family, gleefully describing each person’s “gift,” or magical power. The healer trying to keep her family whole Here’s a look at several key “Encanto” characters and the conversations they’re sparking:

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… People are seeing this movie and they’re realizing they’re seeing themselves in it,” Adelakun says. “I think it’s going to have a great impact on society. Therapists who spoke with CNN say they’re talking about the movie with their clients – many of whom are first-generation children of immigrants who see themselves reflected in the story, hear their experiences in the soundtrack, and are using “Encanto” to speak out about things that otherwise might go unsaid. While catchy songs from “Encanto” are topping the charts, Disney’s latest animated film is drawing praise from therapists like Adelakun for another reason: the way the movie portrays trauma and healing. “There are so many layers, so many dynamics,” Adelakun says. The plot of “Encanto,” she says, perfectly captures issues many families are going through. When she finally watched the movie on Disney+, Adelakun realized the figurines were an even better fit than she’d imagined. She knew characters from a multiracial Afro-Latino family would be an important addition to her office in Kennesaw, Georgia, where she holds play therapy sessions and makes a point of finding toys that reflect the diversity of her young patients’ lives. Kadesha Adelakun bought toys from “Encanto” before she even had a chance to see the movie.
