Robin Williams' enduring legacy

I had a couple of posts in mind to start off the school year but the others will wait with this week’s tragic death of Robin Williams.  Because of the notion of choice often associated with the word suicide, I won’t call it that.  Death is death regardless of its cause.

Robin Williams in Patch Adams

Like many, I loved Robin Williams!  Somehow he became a quirky uncle who helped me through difficult times.  This particular scene from Good Morning, Vietnam has come to mind numerous times in school board meetings. When I was ill a few years back, I searched the Internet to find Robin Williams videos and split my sides laughing over many I found.  Somewhat ribald, his Dr. Roof piece (What if Dr. Ruth was a big black woman?) sent me into convulsions of laughter.  I’ve often wondered what Dr. Ruth thinks of it.  I bet she loves it!

His impromptu skit on the Tonight Show in 2006 of Angelina Jolie's infamous trip to Africa had everyone rolling on the floor with laughter. Think about it – an incredibly rich white woman goes to Africa with her entourage to adopt a child.  How absurd is that … but it took Williams and his zany insight to show us the irony.

Tragically, Robin Williams suffered from a chronic disease, depression.  From all accounts, he did everything right in treating both the disease and the addictions, which likely sprang from attempts to decrease his pain. 

Earlier this week, a Canadian police chief tweeted that Williams "could have chosen" differently. Others called Williams selfish. This is a man who gave his incredible gift of humour and time to millions and he was selfish?  Really?  Surviving these years with the pain of depression was likely a real act of courage, generosity and selflessness for Williams.

I’ve met police officers who understand that mental illness is just that, an illness.  They are kind and understanding in their approach.  I salute them particularly since they are often called upon to attend to people suffering with mental illness on a daily basis. 

But when a chief of police fails to understand, well it sets the tone for the entire force and reinforces the views of more prejudiced officers.   The tragic shootings of people who are mentally ill, very often people of colour such as Toronto's Sammy Yatim in 2013, is evidence of the systemic racism, ignorance and prejudice within police forces and frankly within society.

Mental illness is a disease.  When I was diagnosed with cancer a few years back, expensive medical resources were used in my treatment and everyone treated me with the utmost kindness.  Why is treatment for mental illness any different?

Mary Hamilton's article in The Guardian should be required reading for every journalist covering Williams' death.  Hamilton talks about the mental health care crisis in Britain but even in wealthy Ottawa, it is very difficult to find mental health treatment particularly for our young people.  Why is that?  Many people may not get overnight treatment for cancer, still I discovered first-hand that some treatments such as surgery are almost immediately available.  Rightfully we have an expectation that people shouldn’t wait for cancer treatment and we’re willing to make personal sacrifices to raise large sums to help find a cure for cancer.  The wonderful Terry Fox Run continues to serve as an example of what can be done.

According to the Canadian Mental Health Association, "20% of Canadians will personally experience a mental illness in their lifetime."  This is a terrible toll in terms of suffering and lost productivity.  Why does the rate of depression continue to rise when there are programs to help prevent and treat mental illness?  I spoke about Dr. Stuart Shanker’s program in my last post.  We should be rolling this out in every school.

What makes mental illness different?  You know the answer.  In our hearts, we still believe mental illness is a moral shortcoming.  We often think those suffering with it are weak, selfish, or lack discipline … and we blame. 

Over the last couple of days, a number of comedians have spoken about depression and comedy as being opposite sides of the same coin.  As Hamilton states, this may not be the case or it may be an over-generalization but still ... on this question, Russell Brand's eulogy in The Guardian is particularly moving.  Does comedic genius spring from an effort to deal with the pain of depression and the human condition?  Does it come from a desperate attempt to distance oneself from others and prevent them from recognizing the illness?  Whatever it is, it speaks to the stigma and shame associated with this disease.

Space aliens can say the darndest things.  Like his TV persona Mork, Williams’ good heart was evidence of other worldliness.  Perhaps we all should take a page from his book and have the courage to sharpen our humour.  Amateur attempts at joke telling can give real pleasure especially when it helps turn the tables on annoying teenagers, not that my kids were ever annoying.  

Williams taught us much about ourselves but perhaps his greatest legacy may be in fostering a public conversation about mental illness.  This seems a fitting tribute of thanks for Robin Williams’ great spirit and comedic genius.


The views expressed in this post are personal opinions only.