What does it all mean?

The movie, "Precious", is opening tonight in various major cities. I don't think it's playing anywhere near me. I've been listening to bits about it on NPR, on Oprah and it was reviewed on the evening news. It's based on the book, "Push", written by a woman by the name of Sapphire. 

Needless to say, it's been getting a lot of good reviews in spite of being a very graphic and painful film to watch. 


The thing is, I'm not sure I really want to see it. 


And I wondered, as I watched an interview with one of the cast members, "what does the fact  that I don't want to see this film mean about me as a music therapist?"


I work with a lot of traumatized people. People who have intellectual and developmental disabilities have often experienced severe and chronic trauma. I hate that my clients have and continue to suffer this way. I hate that anyone suffers, frankly. 


It made me wonder, "Am I obligated, as a music therapist, to go and watch a film that portrays a young woman who is brutally abused by her family?"


It's not as if I'm in denial that people are abused. 


I guess it's pretty obvious I'm having some ambivalence (and guilt- ah, yes, the ever-present guilt) about my decision to not see this movie. 


The best explanation I can give (not that anybody was asking for one) is that I can only bear witness to so much trauma. I have a larger obligation (if we're talking obligations here- and I seem to be) to not expose myself to so much trauma that I can't even function as a therapist to my clients. 


Anyone else want to weigh in on this? Or am I the only one who obsesses about such things? 

A thought-provoking film

I am visiting with my aunt, uncle and cousin in Massachusetts, and last night, after much deliberation, we decided to watch the film "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly". It is a beautiful and moving film, based on a true story (more about that later) about a well-known French journalist who, at 42 years of age, has a massive stroke and is left completely paralyzed, experiencing a rare condition called Locked-In Syndrome. The only part of his body over which he has any control is his left eye, and in the film we see the world as he must see it, through a very small frame.

Eventually, a speech therapist helps him to learn to communicate through eye blinks, and he writes about his experiences. Sadly, shortly after his book is published, he dies of an infection.

The reason I'm blogging about this is that I think it's an excellent teaching tool for those of us who support individuals who are unable to speak and/or who require physical assistance in all aspects of their lives. First, it reminds us that we are all one moment away from severe disability. Second, it invites us to be mindful of our interactions with people who we presume to be lacking in intellect because of their inability to communicate in conventional ways. Third, we are reminded of the power of the human mind.

The film does not present an entirely accurate portrayal of the relational facts- as in, some of the people who are shown as being part of his life in the film were not involved in the way they were depicted. However, for the purposes I'm suggesting- paying attention to his experiences and how people interact with him once he is disabled- I don't think the factual inaccuracies interfere.