30 August 2014

Compassion


Just under three weeks ago, on August 12, the world was stunned with the news that Robin Williams had taken his own life in his Paradise Cay home. Like many others, this left me in disbelief. How could it be that a person who - as endlessly described by his friends, family and fellow actors - was so compassionate, loving, and full of life, could end his own? The answer will never truly be known but there have been suggestions linking to depression, Parkinson's disease, and the threat of bankruptcy. The reason, to me, is irrelevant. Whatever it was, it caused him to commit an act which left his wife without a husband, his children without a father, and millions of fans without a hero to revere. You may think that it was a selfish act. Perhaps even a thought worthy of fierce admonishment. If so, I cannot say that I'm of the same mind, but I'm not going to begrudge you the state of yours. A suicidal person is, in my honest belief, one who is in a state of extreme mental anguish. The obvious response to anguish is anything to make it stop. It is not only an obvious response, but also the natural one. Regardless, it's a topic which has been, and forever will be, debated, so it's not something I'm going to focus on.

What I do, however, wish to focus on is one of Robin's films, Jack.

If you are not familiar with the story, allow me to give a description.

Robin plays a boy with Werner syndrome, a condition which causes him to age at four times the rate of 'normal' children. By the time he reaches the age of 10, although he speaks, thinks and acts like a boy of his age, his physical appearance reflects that of a fully developed 40-year-old man. His home-schooling tutor suggests that Jack make the transition to state school, and so his life as an 'ordinary' child begins. The film follows his journey from this point until his graduation many years later, covering the difficulties he faced along the way.

This is a film I watched repeatedly when I was much younger, and again following his death. It's one of the few films that triggers a deep sense of happiness within me. The reason being that the theme throughout is one of compassion. From Jack's parents. From his classmates. From his teacher.

His first few days at school are difficult for him. He is not used to being around children, much less children who continually stare and ogle and make fun of what they deem to be someone who ''looks like my dad''. Although Jack's inclusion leaves the children in a quandary, he soon becomes accepted following a game of basketball in which he makes full use of his considerable height advantage. Thereafter, his relationship with the boys slowly blossoms and leads to tree-house sleepovers, the purchase of adult magazines, and him posing as the principle in order to get one of them out of trouble. Most importantly, it gives Jack a sense of belonging.

His confidence gradually grows and he asks his teacher to be his date at the school prom, citing obvious differences between himself and girls his age as the reason. Touched, but remaining professional, she politely tells him why it cannot be. Jack's feeling of rejection manifests into one of devastation, causing him to suffer great strain to what is already a frail heart, crushing all confidence and resulting in his parents withdrawing him from school indefinitely.

For a few weeks, Jack remains locked away in his bedroom. Feeling shamed by his teacher. Distant from his friends. Embarrassed of his condition. Wishing only that he was like everyone else. During this time, he constantly hears shouts of "JACK'S MOM, CAN JACK COME OUT AND PLAY?", but remains hidden behind his curtains.

Jack's tutor is called upon as a last resort in an attempt to circumvent his state of mind. Their dialogue is brief, yet captures the essence of the story beautifully.


Jack:              You can't quit!

Woodruff:   I don't consider myself quitting. 
                        I consider myself losing a student.
                        Do you know why I like to teach children, Jack? 
                        So I don't get so wrapped up in being an adult. 
                        So I can remember that there are other things that are important in life; 
                        like riding a bike, playing in a tree house...
                        You, my friend, were my most special student. 
                        You were a shooting star amongst ordinary stars.
                        Have you ever seen a shooting star? It's wonderful. 
                        It passes quickly, but when it's here it lights up the whole sky. 
                        It's the most beautiful thing you'd ever want to see.
                        So beautiful that the other stars stop and watch.
                        You almost never see one. They're quite rare.
                        But I saw one...I did.

Jack:               I just want to be a regular star.

Woodruff:    Jack, you'll never be regular, you're spectacular. 

The next morning, as his parents are sipping their coffee and reading the Wall Street Journal, Jack surprises them. He appears, clean-shaven, with a radiant smile as he asks if it would be okay to return to school. When he arrives at class, everyone - including his teacher - is overjoyed. One of his friends is reading a homework assignment aloud to the class. The task given was to write what they want to be when they are older, but Jack's friend gives a heartfelt speech about Jack himself, the person who he wishes to be like when he grows up.

The story concludes with a seven-year fast-forward to the graduation ceremony.

Jack's appearance is now similar to that of a man in his late sixties. He's very weak and softly spoken, but delivers a moving speech to his peers, reminding them that life is short and encourages them to "Make your life spectacular".                                                      

I urge you to watch this film for yourselves, and not merely rely on my few paragraphs of summation to convey what I think is a remarkably important message embedded in the narrative. It captures perfectly the innate, good nature of human beings. In this case, predominantly that of children.

The children in this story wasted no time picking on the grown man in the corner of the playground, yet they soon realised that he was one of them. They changed their opinion of him from 'freak' to 'best friend', only by spending time with him. The importance of this is that it transcended Jack's lonely, ignominious life into a life filled with hope, love, and friendship. Of course, there are times when we, ourselves, are quick to judge. Of course, there are times when we form harsh opinions and unfair criticisms based on gut-reactions alone. Of course, many of us on occasion suffer from ignorance. Yet, there is something within every single one of us which assists in distinguishing right from wrong. It allows us to be kind and considerate. It paves the way for Compassion.

For one reason or another, some of us simply don't adhere to this innate kindness consistently, or at all. Some actively eschew it. And it may well stem from our childhood. It may be some extraneous influence that shapes our reactions to people. Whatever it may be, very rarely will you be in a position, so far removed, so as to not be able to do anything about it. Understanding how fragile one's life is, yet how easily you can change another's with simple acts of kindness is a great step forward in our developments. Each of us has this power to exercise, so why don't we do it more often? If you are quick to form a negative opinion regarding anyone or anything, immediately ask yourselves why? Why is it that I think that? It is really necessary to think that? Will there be any difference if I don't think that? Would it be fairer to wait a little longer to see if there's anything to suggest thinking that would be unreasonable? In any case, we must be willing to accept others. We must understand our differences. We must teach first, ourselves, and second, others, the importance of human solidarity. To not do so would be a severe mistake.

I would like to end with a passage from one of my favourite books, which also relates the notion that we are all connected.


Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair. 





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