Moonlight, the Movie: Of Parenting and Role Models

  

My patient Mr. B. said one day,  “I’m still angry at my father (for what he did/didn’t do) but I realized I’m like him in many ways.” In actuality, our identity, for better and/or worse, is formed by attributes of each of our role models. We become who we are through experiences with people closest to us: our parents or care-takers.

The award-winning movie Moonlight dramatically portrays this theme through the coming-of-age story of a poor African American homosexual boy named Chiron in the segregated south.

Chiron is raised, more or less, by a drug-addicted mother who throws him out of the house when she needs to entertain men. 

He wanders the streets bereft before being befriended by a handsome, successful drug dealer who takes him home to his girl friend and serves him a home-cooked meal.

In a review in the March issue of Out, L.F. Brathwaite notes that drug dealers not infrequently show kindness and serve as role models for street kids who have no other caring people in their lives. Gay men have approached the writer of Moonlight in the street, Tarell Alvin McCraney, with tears and gratitude, thanking him for portraying “their” story for the first time on the big screen.

In high school, a peer Kevin, initiates a homosexual encounter with Chiron. Later, a class bully taunts Chiron about being gay and forces him to beat Kevin up. A school councilor tries to patch matters up, but she doesn’t understand the complex dynamics, and Chiron can’t explain them to her. As a result, he takes matters into his own hands by beating up the bully and landing in jail.

 Upon his release, he follows the only path he knows: he becomes a drug dealer, perpetuating the cycle of dealing and addiction that ensnared his mother and led to his sorry fate. But he sees himself as a success who drives a cool car and dons gold chains and gold teeth.

Years later, curious about his old pal, Kevin contacts Chiron, who visits him at the diner where Kevin has made an adjustment to a working class life as a fast-order cook. Kevin has been able to form relationships with women and children. (Presumably, he had better parenting.)

Kevin is curious to know who Chiron really is.  With a few halting words, Chiron reveals that Kevin has been his only sexual/love encounter; essentially Chiron is a loner.

Conclusion: We’re exquisitely dependent on role models to shape us. Understanding our role models lends/leads to empathy. The question:  how can we help children deprived of healthy role models? Our social system at this point in time, seems inadequate to the task.

In our age of computers, perhaps it isn’t far-fetched to imagine a future where robots provide some child-rearing functions, providing better care-taking than some troubled parents can.

Dear Reader, Your comments are welcome. jsimon145@gmail.com 

Projects: Motion for the Mind

The idea for this blog came when I was speaking to an 82 year old friend, Mr. W, a very smart, social, semi-retired scientist who mentioned that he needed a project. Although he’d written a memoir, now he was thinking of beginning a second one. In spite of his many friends and extended family, he wanted to invest in an ongoing activity with a foreseeable goal.

Then I began to think of all the people and patients I know who share Mr. W’s need, and for the most part, are happier for it.

Then I began to think of projects like motion for the mind.  In a recent New York Times article, Gretchen Reynolds cites research reporting that people who move often are happier than people who sit in chairs. When the mind is in motion, we are also happier. Projects serve to lift us out of ourselves and connect us to other people.

The Cambridge University psychologist Brian Little has devoted his career to studying how everyday personal projects are essential for human flourishing.

Bodily maintenance can be viewed as an essential lifelong project. Taking care of our bodies fosters good health, which confers energy to invest in projects outside ourselves.

When one project is completed some people find a related one, and some switch gears entirely. Here are some examples of people who have changed their focus:

1.      A ballerina becomes a Pilates teacher.

2.      A retired school teacher works as an assistant in children’s collection at a bookstore.

3. A retired secretary knits and donates hats and sweaters to the needy.

Some people alter their activities when physical limitations interfere.  A famous example is Grandma Moses, who early in life, owned and worked on a farm and raised many children.  She retired at age 76, and at age 78, when arthritis interfered with her ability to embroider, she became a painter of bucolic scenes reminiscent of farm life. When illness interfered with his ability to paint, the French artist Matisse turned to cutting out shapes for fabric design.

Sometimes we grapple to find a project, while at times they drop into our lap. The current governmental turmoil has motivated and impassioned thousands of people to become involved in the political scene.   Ms. G. suffered from apathy until Trump’s election stirred up her passions and conferred a project she believed was essential.

Conclusion: We don’t outgrow our need for projects that keep us invested (in the world) and happier in our lives.

Dear Reader, I look forward to hearing your experiences.