Catholic dwarf explores his world in PBS documentary
Marylynn G. Hewitt, SFO, of The Michigan Catholic
Published October 20, 2006
My name is Steven. I'm 48 years old and I'm a dwarf."
It's OK for you to say it. He does.
And it's OK to look. That's part of why he did this documentary in the first place.
He wants you to know more about his life, more about him and more about others who have dwarfism. He, in fact, wanted the same thing.
Steven Delano undertakes this journey with a camera crew tagging along and the end result is the PBS P.O.V. special "No Bigger than a Minute."
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Photo courtesy of “No Bigger Than a Minute”
Steve Delano, a dwarf and a filmmaker, in “No Bigger Than a Minute.” | "I knew nothing about dwarfism," he says by phone from his home in Denver. "I only knew my own day-to-day physical existence. I had very little contact with other dwarfs until now.
"The hook for me was in discovering how many interesting ways we dwarfs have been represented in various forms of media throughout the ages. … All this intrigued me. But if that's all the average person knows about short people, then they don't know much at all."
As a filmmaker, he took his career skills and decided to "take charge of the way people of short stature are represented, add a dash of style and humor and take it to the next level."
That he does.
While he takes the topic seriously, Delano doesn't take himself too seriously. The result is a delightful trip in someone else's shoes – very small shoes – but worn by someone with a much bigger heart and an obvious sense of humor.
He's seen a breadth of people's reactions to him. "I've had people kiss me in bars. I've had people kiss me on a shuttle bus. I've had people want to pick me up and hold me."
He interviews a few dwarfs including Matt Roloff ("Little People, Big World") Meredith Eaton ("Family Law") and the X-rated rapper Bushwack Bill. He also gets a chat in with Randy Newman who wrote "Short People," which Delano says "is the only Top 10 song that will go down in short-people infamy."
Much of who he is he attributes to his parents and the Catholic faith they passed on to him. "I do have a real faith and it enables me to continue to be strong in life," he says by phone. "It's just reassuring as well to know that I'm being taken care of even still. Even though I'm an independent person, there is a God. … I find it reassuring that no matter what I'll be OK."
That's something his late father instilled in him early on. His Dad got "an old baby carriage with plywood on top to push me around the boulevard. That's the best thing they ever did for me," he says. He had no idea he was any different than anyone else at that young age.
"Positive self-esteem comes pretty easily in the first 4 or 5 years when you don't care about such things," he tells viewers. "All you want is a fire engine for Christmas. Self-image, ultimately, has to do with other people and its harder control."
Delano, who addresses the tough issues of abortion and genetic testing as well, says working on the documentary helped him be more accepting of who he is.
His journey of self-discovery means he can look into the camera and say, "Look at me. My head sits on my shoulders like a Pez dispenser, a block for a forehead you could post advertising on, a barrel chest, club foot, great teeth."
No, he doesn't take himself too seriously. He knows he's a dwarf, but there's more to him than that.
"A random mutation of just one gene has determined much of my life. Among other things, I'm a dwarf. Just call me Steven."
Marylynn G. Hewitt, SFO, is the managing editor of The Michigan Catholic. Contact her at mgh@aod.org.
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