Mr. Rogers – Bringing Particular Poignancy to a Sad Week of Loss

Last week was a tough emotional week for many people I know.  There were numerous high profile suicides.  First Kate Spade, then the sister of Queen Maxima of the Netherlands, then Anthony Bourdain.   Of course the story we don’t hear is the one about the 123 not particularly famous people who die from suicide every single day.    We all recently experienced the suicide of Robin Williams, who lived very near me and who I frequently saw at local restaurants and shops.  Suicide hotlines report that their volumes are up massively this week.

I was particularly hard hit by the Bourdain story.  It made me depressed beyond measure. I have been a huge fan since his first book, Kitchen Confidential, came out in 2000 and I was among the first wave to read it. I was taken both by the unbelievably high quality of writing and humor, but also by the very human story of someone who had succeeded and failed and succeeded and failed again but kept getting back up.  Bourdain got incredibly famous over the subsequent 18 years and was always quite open about his struggles.  He was one of the leaders who made a point to bring strangers in and to encourage us to reach outside our borders and the limits of our own experience to the very real world lives (and meals) of others all around the world.  He also was one of the people that assertively  spoke out against Harvey Weinstein on behalf of his girlfriend, Asia Argento, who was one of the people victimized by the producer.  I greatly admired Bourdain for his inclusiveness, fearlessness, loyalty to friends and what looked like joie de vie.

All of this was very much in my head when I went to see Won’t You Be My Neighbor, the new documentary just released about Mr. Rogers and his epic career in children’s television.  If you haven’t seen this yet, drop whatever you are doing and go see it.  It is an incredible movie, not just because Fred Rogers is a genuine hero, but what he preached in life is exactly what we seem to need right now in every quarter of our country and beyond.  His basic message is choose love, choose kindness.  Hard to argue. And yet as I type I am watching the news and it is not everyone’s obvious choice.

Rogers was also known as someone who embraced others who were different way ahead of his time.  He honored all races, all genders, diverse sexual orientations, people with disabilities, you name it.  Starting in the 1960’s during the Viet Nam War, he was hell-bent on using honesty and kindness to teach kids real life lessons about hard things: love, death, danger, fear, divorce, anger, you name it.  We so rarely see these frank discussions on TV, much less in a way that they can be absorbed appropriately and meaningfully by children.  A commitment to inclusiveness is something I admire in people; you might see the pattern.

Much of Mr. Roger’s appeal was his repeated refrain that he liked people exactly as they are.  He gave a gentle if constant reminder that all people are worthy, are special enough to deserve love.  At one point in the movie, Mr. Rogers (through his Daniel the Tiger puppet) and Lady Aberlin sing a duet called Sometimes I Wonder if I’m a Mistake.  I have to admit that I broke down in full blown tears as this song was sung, thinking that the words would likely be so resonant for people like Bourdain and others who suffer from crushing mental illness amplified by self-doubt and who lose sight of the fact that they are needed and loved by others.

As Mr. Rogers so aptly put it in the movie, “All everyone wants to know is that that they are loved and lovable.” As I sat there crying like a baby, I was particularly thinking of the many high achievers I know who never quite believe they are good enough or that they have done enough to be worthy of accolades, attention and affection.  I was also thinking about those who tend to be unusually strong and resilient but sometimes are not, and yet they feel so uncomfortable sharing those vulnerable moments.  I have, at times, had these feelings and I suspect many do, but it’s so uncool to admit it.  So for all of you who have ever felt like this, I wanted to share the lyrics to the song here. I suspect that they will resonate with a lot of people, particularly right now.

Note that the two matched stanzas of this song are sung like a round.  One person laments their insecurities while their friend reassures them that they are worthy of love.  It’s quite profound, actually, as I am quite certain this type of scene must have occurred in real life for Spade, for Bourdain, for so many others.  And yet…

Sometimes I Wonder if I’m a Mistake

[Daniel the Tiger]

Sometimes I wonder if I’m a mistake
I’m not like anyone else I know
When I’m asleep or even awake
Sometimes I get to dreaming that I’m just a fake
I’m not like anyone else

Others I know are big and are wild
I’m very small and quite tame
Most of the time I’m weak and I’m mild
Do you suppose that’s a shame

Often I wonder if I’m a mistake
I’m not supposed to be scared am I
Sometimes I cry and sometimes I shake
Wondering isn’t it true that the strong never break
I’m not like anyone else I know
I’m not like anyone else

[Lady Aberlin]

I think you are just fine as you are
I really must tell you
I do like the person that you are becoming
When you are sleeping
When you are waking
You are my friend

It’s really true
I like you
Crying or shaking or dreaming or breaking
There’s no one mistaking it
You’re my best friend

I think you are just fine as you are
I really must tell you
I do like the person that you are becoming
When you are sleeping
When you are waking
You’re not a fake
You’re no mistake
You are my friend

I don’t think it matters whether Mr. Rogers was meaningful to you as a kid as he was for me, or whether you have never seen him before.  Either way, it is hard to be unmoved by this message.

I don’t have much new to add to the conversation about suicide that has been rapidly circulating through all circles except to say thank goodness it’s finally out in the open and if you are a person who is tough and accomplished on the outside but a mushy mess on the inside, tell someone.  It doesn’t make you weak, it makes you powerful when you take care of yourself and the ones you love.  It is so easy for us to think others have their shit together only to find out that it’s not as it seems.  Everyone has a story.  Everyone is dealing with things we can’t see. And it’s pretty damn clear that money and fame don’t buy happiness.

As Mr. Rogers once said (as if he were watching today’s news), “Confronting our feelings and giving them appropriate expression always takes strength, not weakness. It takes strength to acknowledge our anger, and sometimes more strength yet to curb the aggressive urges anger may bring and to channel them into nonviolent outlets. It takes strength to face our sadness and to grieve and to let our grief and our anger flow in tears when they need to. It takes strength to talk about our feelings and to reach out for help and comfort when we need it.”

As I walked out of the theater today I noted that nearly every single person was crying.  Men, women, young, old – a tremendous catharsis was in progress.  It was comforting to me that everyone seemed to be moved as I was and that I wasn’t the only emotional wreck in the room. I have to believe that the prior week’s events had left many raw and ready to receive these messages.

One of the most memorable moments in the movie is one I’ll leave you with: reflecting on Mr. Rogers death in 2003, the interviewer asks a variety of people to take one minute to silently reflect on someone who made a positive difference in their life.  Each of them did this while the camera rolled, watching the emotions cross their faces.  It was powerful and profoundly uplifting to participate in doing this from the audience.  So in a tough week, I’d encourage you to try this yourself.  Set a timer and spend one minute thinking about the person or people who have most uplifted you in life.  And when you are done, take a deep breath and choose kindness.

And if you ever need it for yourself or for a friend or loved one, The Suicide Prevention Lifeline provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress.  Don’t hesitate to get help when it’s needed.  1-800-273-8255.  Put it in your contacts.  One just never knows.