Letter from the Director
“Years ago my mother used to say to me, she’d say, ‘In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart, or oh so pleasant.’ Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me.” Elwood P. Dowd.
When I think about people that I’d like to emulate in my life, Elwood P. Dowd comes straight to the top. Authenticity in a world that is always pressuring you to conform is a rare quality to have in a person, let alone a person like Elwood. I think this might be one of the earliest examples of a neurodivergent character in an American play—this being a term we didn’t have in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Mary Chase states freely that this neurodivergence is a result of trauma. The trauma in this case is something that most, if not all, audiences can relate to: death of a loved one. Grief, as nuanced as it is, has a way of manipulating the ways in which we cope with the gravity of a loss like that, especially without the proper support. Death and grief affect each of us uniquely. We all cope differently; no “one size fits all” treatment plan when it comes to death. Elwood, and some would argue Veta, suffer from the great loss of their mother and only have each other to lean on. That loss is a significant strain on their relationship, and it truly changes the trajectory of this family, as most deaths do. When we look to the time period when Mary Chase wrote this play, the world was on the heels of World War II ending. Not only had the world been shaken up by how that war was resolved, but we had thousands of our men (and women) to bury—death again leading the charge. We weren’t given the tools to deal with changes that not only affected our men who came back from war, but our women who came back into the household after serving in our factories to support the cause. That’s its own kind of death, too, its own kind of grief.
Society, modern medicine and various talk therapies have revolutionized what it means to deal with the myriad traumas and life-altering events that not only shake up the collective consciousness, but the individual consciousness, too. Suffering alone, in silence or without support doesn’t have to be the final ending anymore. Trauma, mental illness, neurodivergence, aren’t such taboo words as they first were. The stigma is slowly dissolving, yet we still have a way to go. We have stronger and more concrete ways to help those with mental illness and the families who are taking care of them. Research and technology are ever-evolving. We learn more about the brain, its ability to heal and what the collective can do to foster that healing in real time. NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) has been a lifeline for so many people surfing these waters. If you, or anyone in your family, needs help, please reach out to this wonderful organization at nami.org. They will provide the support and tools to ensure the care of both patients and families.
– Lisa M. Ramos