Original work from our Writers, Guest Bloggers and Freelancers
Once in a great while, a stage production makes a fantastic impression and the daunting work behind it seems almost effortless. Goodman Theatre’s “The Matchmaker” is charming, delightful and homespun, but for a comedy penned in the 1950’s, this particular telling has a remarkable 2016-era social consciousness. This “Matchmaker” features a cast that is diverse in age, gender, ethnicity and ability, and takes a certain delight in creating an ensemble that is unique and unlikely.
In the last decade, more so even in the last five or six years, mental health and disability visibility has been gaining momentum. Despite this, access to quality care and health resources is still a challenge, especially for those of low incomes and on college campuses. This isn’t news. But for many colleges, I feel as though mental health awareness has become a sort of trend. It’s easy to make posters and signs and organize events, but not so easy to actually create an environment without stigma, and with quality resources. Taking the time to do this is worth it, and the students will thank you.
You grew up going to hospitals. Not because you had appointments, but because I did. So you began to hate hospitals and going to them. But that hasn’t stopped you from visiting me when I’m in the hospital. Every single hospitalization you’ve come to visit me. To put your arms around me and give me a hug. To distract me for a precious few hours, hours that always seemed to pass too fast. Thank you for bringing sunshine into my hospital room. For taking my mind off of what was going on around me.
Indeed, such experiences enabled me to better understand what exactly awareness entails. There exist so many different flavors, each appropriate for a different situation. Knowing what corresponds to a given mental disorder differs significantly from reading a personal blog or watching videos of the interactions between doctors, patients, and their families; and these video and Internet interactions, like talking to someone on Skype versus in real life, are still a far cry from actually being there.
But what made her reminder even more poignant was that she had the courage to make a joke about something serious. That’s just one of the reasons I love Eric Emanuelson. She is one of my only friends who has the courage to joke around with me about my medical equipment, diagnoses, and medications.
I try to keep company with people that are aware that they are crazy, because I don’t have qualms with admitting that I am, too. But more importantly than self-awareness, I look for the person that cares how their crazy effects the people around them, and persistently ventures to build a healthier way of being.
I thought about all the different people I learned about growing up and the differently able community was the only group left out. Growing up black, I know what it's like to be different. I know what it's like for people to look at you weird on public transportation or for people to talk to you like they’ve never been around “your type” before. That happens when a person really isn’t educated about a certain community. As a kid I was never really taught about blindness and how it affects a person.
Minus the outbreaks mentioned above a lot of us internalize our feelings. We pretend we are fine when in reality it feels like our insides are falling apart. We try to push through the pain, the nausea, the dizziness or whatever other symptom we’re experiencing. We try to be brave and put on a good face for the rest of humanity, but on the inside the struggle is so very real. So we need you to come alongside us and ask us how we’re really doing. Don’t just accept okay or good because odds are we probably aren’t okay.
Living with a chronic disease and fighting for my survival has made me grasp how precious life is and that time is better spent making memories than collecting things. I love each and every memory I’ve made with my family and good friends. And plenty of memories are made around the holidays as the holidays have a tendency to bring people together. I have also seen how fleeting a life can be and how quickly someone can die; through a car wreck, disease or other type of accident. So cherish each and every moment you have with those you love because you never know when your last moment may be.
I try to control or at least anticipate the environments I'm in because it keeps me feeling safe. I’m like the world’s most annoying tourist: I want to know where we are going, with whom, for how long, and what it will be like when we get there. People will ask what kind of restaurant we should go to and instead of naming types of food, I’ll specify the atmosphere. Even my taste in museums has evolved as my SPD has gotten more pronounced. As much as I talk about filling museums with vigor, I’m guaranteed to visit on a slow day and avoid blockbuster exhibitions.
