Megan Durnford (photo courtesy of Charlotte Dunford-Dionne by way of the Westmount Independent
Well, in the category of “better late than never,” I just discovered that Megan Durnford won one helluva an award back in May*. The award is the Betty Youson Award for Best Canadian Short Documentary and is for Megan’s short documentary LAST RESPECTS (more on that in just one sec). As some of you know, Megan is also the writer and director behind I AM STILL YOUR CHILD, a documentary dealing with so-called COPMI (“Children of Parents with Mental Illness”). Yours truly was in that film, dealing with my mom’s diagnosis of schizophrenia and what growing up in that environment was like.
Regrettably, I have not seen LAST RESPECTS as of yet, but the film deals with a part of our culture that is really never talked about, at least publicly. As Megan noted, “What happens to Montrealers who die alone and whose bodies are not ‘claimed’ by loved ones?” As she began doing research, she came across a short article that discussed Father Claude Paradis and his annual ceremony for these forgotten people of Montreal. Rather than have me blather on about it, though, you can read Megan’s own thoughts about the film by reading her essay at https://povmagazine.com/reflections-on-the-making-of-last-respects/. The trailer for the film is on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8vOsGlC5BQ
The film also led to a really unique collaboration. Megan worked with her son, Hugh Durnford-Dionne, a cinematographer and editor in his own right and the two were able to mesh their skills as they developed the film project. While I’ve only met Hugh briefly, it is really neat that the two of them were able to work together in such a fashion. Not every family could actually complete a journey like that.
As the HOT DOCS — Jury statement notes, “For its human, simple and necessary approach to the universal theme of the dignity and value of every single life that stands out by virtue of its compelling, skilfully crafted visual language as much as its personal story and message.” And Instagram has a snazzy photo of Megan accepting her award!
I would encourage you to seek out the film, as I plan on doing, and also follow along with Megan’s career. And remember: she is not only a filmmaker, but is an author.
Salut, Megan!
* Yes, May, but I only came across the news yesterday courtesy of Westmount Independent, based in the island of Montreal.
2025 UPDATE: Please visit the following link for more details and thoughts about Diamond Comic Distributors. Some of what’s discussed below "elided" certain issues, but this the new post discusses the situation more openly now (and that means I’ll probably revisit the post below with updated information, too): https://www.vonallan.com/2025/01/Diamond-Comic-Distributors-Wolfs-Head-and-Me.html
Whew, boy, what a tough couple of months. While there has been some
joy (receiving the
City of Ottawa grant and being shortlisted for the Peter
Honeywell award being the best), for the most part it has been
one helluva frustrating slog. I’m going to do my best to outline
what the current situation is, mainly to help solidify
my own thoughts on what’s gone wrong. Or, to put it another way,
what hasn’t?
To put it bluntly, sales are not good. Worse, every attempt I’ve made
to mitigate that has failed. In different
circumstances, that would be enough to shut the series down. In fact,
I have
done exactly that
in the past (specifically with my previous graphic novel series
STARGAZER, ended
after two volumes,
and with the digital-only series METAL GODS, ended
after four issues).
What
makes WOLF’S HEAD
different from those two? The biggest difference is that WOLF’S
HEAD has never reached the Direct Market and, as a result, has been
cut off from its largest potential audience: comic book fans. Mixed in
with that are the aforementioned awards and grants; these have been especially
important in teaching me that WOLF’S HEAD does
have merit in certain (local) art circles, but there’s a “circuit
break” between that and the larger comics community world-wide.
In
fact, one of the biggest examples I could point to in terms of
specific
my role with in
the comics community is the utter lack of media coverage and interest
in my work. Not just with WOLF’S HEAD and not just recently; a
significant disappointment to me was when the documentary film I’m
in (titled I AM STILL YOUR
CHILD) received no traction whatsoever with comics media. If the
film had been covered, then more people might have been introduced to
both me and my work. I
had partially launched WOLF’S HEAD with exactly this in mind: maybe
my role in the film would help galvanize interest and awareness in
the series. Since
that didn’t happen, WOLF’S HEAD did not receive the momentum from
the film that I hoped it would.
Diamond and the Direct Market
This
has been difficult for me to place, mainly because getting a direct
answer from Diamond
Comic Distributors has been so difficult. For those who don’t
know, Diamond is the largest distributor of comic books in North
America and Great Britain and they also distribute comics and related
merchandise throughout the world. Prior to 2020, they were a de
facto
monopoly in
the world of comics;
however,
with DC Comics breaking from Diamond in early June 2020, the monopoly
label is harder to apply. Diamond was also a de
facto
monopsony; though that, given
DC’s departure,
is harder to apply,
too.
For
a small press like Von Allan Studio (that’s
me, folks),
Diamond plays a critical role in facilitating sales of comics and
graphic novels to comic book stores. Fortunately, I have an account
in good standing with Diamond; in
fact,
STARGAZER
was
distributed into the Direct Market (under Item Numbers NOV101057 and
AUG111259) through
Diamond a decade ago. Unfortunately, my amazing sales rep departed
the company and his replacement has been fairly problematic. This
is key: while
Diamond never outright
rejected WOLF’S HEAD, they’ve never accepted the series, either.
In other words, WOLF’S HEAD exists in a sort of limbo
for the past few years.
That
has been dismaying for a few reasons:
WOLF’S
HEAD is a far stronger work than STARGAZER and it remains baffling
to me why the latter was accepted for distribution while the former
hasn’t been.
“Limbo” also means
that WOLF’S HEAD could be accepted for distribution with
Diamond
tomorrow…
or never.
The
specific
format
of
the
print versions of WOLF’S HEAD was a result of attempting to meet
Diamond’s specifications.
While
I don’t want to stray too far into the weeds here, the basic
process works like this: once Diamond has agreed to take on a title
for distribution, each issue/volume has to maintain a minimum sales
threshold or risk cancellation. That threshold is based on total
dollars; so selling 1,000 copies of issue 1 of a $2.99 US series
results in a total dollar amount of $2,990.00, but selling 600
copies of issue 1 of a $9.99
US
series results in $5,994.00! But that requires a print format that
justifies the higher cover price. To
do just that, I
went with a trade paperback trim size and approximately 60 pages of
content per
issue for
WOLF’S
HEAD.
I
felt that this would give the series the best chance of meeting
Diamond’s benchmarks while still giving readers a terrific
experience.
Now,
if Diamond had formally declined distributing WOLF’S HEAD, then I
would have went in a very different direction with the print version
of the series. Since I was in “limbo,” however, I decided to go
ahead with it, hoping that, as the series progressed, Diamond would
get on board and
distribute the series.
Sadly, that has never happened, leaving me with a print format that
I’m not particularly happy with.
I did
manage to get a few Canadian stores to pick up the series. But a
combination of the pandemic (see below) and bad luck have basically
ended that experiment. The store that did the best with the series
was Librairie Astro in Montreal. Sadly, they closed in the summer of
2018 and I lost one of my biggest advocates. Strange Adventures in
Halifax was
carrying the series,
but has apparently stopped. I say ‘apparently’ because I’m not
exactly sure what happened; I suspect the audience simply never
developed for the series.
What format
would
I be happy with? Well, either
a saddle-stitched periodical series (i.e.: ye olde 32 page comic) or,
better, a
beautifully
produced hardcover
series that collected each story arc.
As
it stands, I suspect the next release of WOLF’S HEAD (issue 7) will
be the last with
this 60 page format.
Comics Media
Without
Diamond distributing the series, gaining
media attention for WOLF’S
HEAD
from “comics media” (for lack of a better phrase) has been
problematic. Some of this is understandable; a lot of comics media
supports the Direct Market and are
very
plugged into Diamond’s distribution
cycle. WOLF’S HEAD lack
of distribution with Diamond falls outside of this purview and,
as a result, few media outlets have been interested in discussing the
series.
What’s
been frustrating to me is that WOLF’S HEAD is
broadly distributed. Finding the series is not difficult for either
readers or retailers, primarily because WOLF’S HEAD has world-wide
distribution through Ingram. This also means that the series is easy
to find at
online at retailers like Amazon,
Barnes
& Noble, Chapters/Indigo,
Waterstones, and
so on. However, from the point of view of “comics media,” this
isn’t
enough. Worse, this
lack of distribution from Diamond has
also disqualified WOLF’S HEAD from the Joe Shuster Canadian Comic
Book Creator Awards (while
I’m not positive on
this score, I
believe that the “Shusters” require distribution through Diamond
for eligibility).
More
importantly, the lack of media attention has meant that the series is
pretty much unknown with the audience I need the most: comic book
fans. Especially comic book fans who
like independent or alternative comics (or “comix”). It
is very hard to grow a series if your
key demographic doesn’t know you exist.
Comics
Media are
also tricky to talk about because there’s a split in what
and who receives
coverage. More mainstream sites like Comic Book Resources or
Bleeding Cool
tend
to focus on corporate intellectual property. This means titles from
Marvel, DC, as well as licensed properties. Sites like The Comics
Journal focus on more literary titles. Unfortunately, either due to
the lack of distribution from Diamond or other reasons, I’m persona
non grata
with both. And that’s certainly not for
lack of trying on my end.
The
knock-on effects of all this is problematic. As a simple example,
there is now a great deal of scholarship being conducted on comics
with some truly fascinating insights from
some remarkable scholars.
Unfortunately, comics scholars aren’t, as far as I can tell, aware
of my work. Or even aware of me, for that matter. A
second example are librarians.
Librarians
have become key advocates
of comics, but I’ve never managed to gain library support for
WOLF’S HEAD outside of my
own
local Public Library. WorldCat
certainly illustrates
this plainly.
This
is disappointing because my work has
been
in libraries in the past,
but without awareness of the series it would be difficult for a
librarian to justify the purchase of the series, especially given the
times of austerity we’ve been experiencing for the past twelve
years.
COVID-19
The
pandemic has effected everyone. In the face of the death toll (it
boggles my mind that 200,000 people have died in the United States
alone and we’re not that far from 1,000,000 dead throughout the
world), it’s a bit hard to think of anything else, but there have
been knock-on effects for everyone, even those who haven’t directly
been hit by the virus itself.
Obviously
declining retail sales are a significant example. The effects are
more horrifying when you think about food scarcity, layoffs,
evictions, and the like. Yes, it could certainly be worse; in fact,
I’d argue that one of reasons that COVID-19 has not been as
horrific as, say, the 1918-19 Influenza pandemic is that there are
still enough social programs by various levels of government to help
prevent the situation from spiraling out control. Plus science has a
far greater understanding of how pandemics spread than it did back in
1918-19. Still, the official governmental responses has been
problematic (really? 200,000 dead in the US?) and we are clearly not
out of the woods yet.
Since
art tends to be a discretionary purchase, in the face of the global
pandemic my print sales have declined. Not that sales were robust
before 2020, but the pandemic has destroyed them. While book sales in
general slumped when the initial lockdowns occurred, there seems to
be some evidence that book sales are now stronger,
at least in some
markets. Unfortunately, this has not led to any sales growth for
WOLF’S HEAD or any of my other backlist, though this is not
surprising given what I’ve outlined above.
Digital Comics
What
about digital sales? WOLF’S HEAD is available on both ComiXology
and Kindle and released in periodical format (i.e.: approximately 30
pages) for $1.99 US each. This
format has not led to strong sales. In fact, sales have been very
weak. Kindle is almost a non-starter; while it doesn’t take too
much work to format titles for Kindle (using the Kindle Comic Creator
software), I’ve only had a handful of sales in this format. My
ComiXology sales have been marginally better, but ComiXology (and
Kindle, for that matter) really require reader awareness and interest
when
seeking
out titles. What
do I mean?
Well,
there’s
a conundrum with digital discovery
that I don’t think has been solved yet. In a ‘brick and mortar’
environment, people can stumble
across titles that they might not have known about simply because they are
on a shelf, let
alone activism from a passionate sales staff.
While COVID-19 has obviously effected the ability of people to enter
into retail stores of all types, this
is still a key element of what makes ‘brick and mortar’ stores so
compelling. Wander in, stumble across something interesting, buy it,
and try it. With digital comics, it would appear that you really need
to know what you’re looking for. I realize that
digital does allow some
degree of browsing, but (at least from my point of view and
experience), this doesn’t seem to work all that well in
practice.
As
a result,
my digital sales have been very poor. What I find interesting about
this is that my 2020 experiences with Kindle and ComiXology mirror my
2014 experiences with ComiXology and my series METAL GODS. Things
really haven’t changed all that much at
all.
Where Things Are At
As
disappointing as this has been, the good news is that the comics art
grant from the City of Ottawa has helped mitigate some of the damage
detailed above. In fact, if it was not for the art grant and the
Peter Honeywell award shortlist, I suspect I would cancel WOLF’S
HEAD immediately. As it stands, WOLF’S HEAD will continue, at least
through the current story arc, and then I’ll revisit in 2021.
Self-publishing
is hard. Frankly, I’ve never wanted to do it, not because I’m
against self-publishing per
se,
but
because of the immense
amount of work
involved in doing
it. Hell, I already wear all the hats (writing, art, production,
etc…).
Adding “publisher” to that list is a
bridge too far.
I badly need a publisher. I badly need an agent, too.
With
WOLF’S HEAD, it’s hard to know how things will go. My efforts to
find a publisher for the series will continue, though that is one
helluva slog right now (my jealousy of authors with formal publishing
contracts knows no bounds!). For the short term, this means that
WOLF’S HEAD will probably be turned into a webcomic.
Webcomics
actually terrify me. While once-upon-a-time I did do
a
webcomic through Girlamatic
(THE
ROAD TO GOD KNOWS...),
that
was both a long time ago and with a group of allies. Doing it alone
is scary. And WOLF’S HEAD was never
designed to be a webcomic; I’m leery of how transitioning the
series to that format will work in practice. At the same time, I know
that a
WOLF’S HEAD webcomic might be the best (only?)
chance
that
the series
has to find a real audience.
To
paraphrase one of my favourite movies, “art is a cruel mistress,
but she is her own reward.” Easier
said then done. I
don’t like writing and drawing in a vacuum. While I’ve never
minded the solitary nature of the craft, my stories are meant to be
read.
I’ve
never wanted to make ‘outsider art’ that few if anyone reads. My
goal was never to ‘hermetically seal’ my work from the world at
large, either.
It’s
not a fun feeling to be where I’m at, struggling to find an
audience and struggling to make a living at it. Solutions
are difficult to find. And the loss I’ve been feeling is difficult
to place. Given the state of the world (not just with COVID-19 but
with the wildfires in California and Oregon, the explosion in Beirut,
and so on), there’s a lot to be thankful for. There really is. Art
and writing bring me a great deal of joy, not to mention the fact
that I’ve grown
a great deal as an artist.
I’m
extremely proud of WOLF’S HEAD, despite the terrible sales and lack
of awareness that it even exists. I think it’s some of the best
work I’ve ever done. And it’s been a joyful experience, too.
It
would just be truly awesome to be able to share that joy with
readers.
In a
surprise (well, at least to me!) turn of events, I’ve received a
$4,000.00 grant from the City of Ottawa’s Arts Funding Program (the PDF announcement from the City is here). The
grant is in support of my ongoing comics project WOLF’S HEAD and
represents a significant step in my arts career. Why significant?
Well, bear with me here for a sec and I’ll try to explain.
As
I’ve struggled to cobble together an arts career, there have been a
number of obstacles that I’ve had to overcome. This is not unique
to me, unique to Canadian comic artists, unique to visual artists, or
unique to the arts in general. Despite certain stereotypes of artists
(“heads in the clouds,” blah, blah, blah), it’s quite a tricky
career to manage. There is not a lot of support “out there” for
artists, either. Most artists I know are forced to manage their
careers as best they can and there really isn’t a road map to help
along the way. That’s been very true for me. While a lot of words
come to mind to describe this — ‘challenging’
being a very good one — it just is what it is. And there is a
certain truism to the notion that by the time acknowledgement does
come (usually in the form of awards, accolades, and sales), the
artist doesn’t need as much support as they once did. That’s
definitely not true of me.
Let me say that again: That’s definitely not true of me.
It’s been a fight every step of the way. The first fight was simply to
become competent and that might have been the toughest battle of them
all. The learning curve, at least for me, has been extremely steep
with a lot of false starts and dashed hopes along the way. Then, the
next fight is to survive. Truth be told, that’s been tough, too.
Being pretty much a fringe artist at the best of times and a true Outsider most of the time meant that building awareness for my work has been a
never-ending struggle. Pragmatically speaking, surviving as an artist means generating an
income. In my case specifically, that primarily means selling my
comics. And that has never been easy.
As some folks know, I really had hopes that I AM STILL YOUR CHILD, the
documentary film I’m in, would help build awareness for my art.
That really hasn’t happened, at least so far, and the
disappointment was hard to place. That doesn’t mean I’m not proud
of my role in the film. Far from it! And I still think the film is
important for shedding light on parental mental illness, a taboo
subject to this day.
That said, as my wife is fond of saying, the film was ‘kindling’ for
my arts career and represented a milestone in its own right. While it
hasn’t changed awareness of my work in the larger comics community,
it has led to growing awareness in the local arts scene. I’m pretty
sure that I wouldn’t have been a finalist for the Peter Honeywell Award without it. And I certainly wouldn’t have won a CBC Trailblazer Award without it, too.
And
with today’s announcement of winning a grant from the City of
Ottawa, I’m pretty confident saying that it wouldn’t have
happened without the film and the other awards. One thing does lead
to another. And the grant is important from another point of view; it
really does give some much needed financial support for my comics
endeavours. As I’ve noted, being an artist is not an easy path and
every little bit of financial support helps. When a jury of my peers
determined that my application was worthy of financial support, my jaw dropped. And it’s taken a bit
of time for me to really get my head around it. I’m both honoured
and pleased as punch to receive it. And in these pandemic times we
live in, it is one helluva lift.
So yes, Von Allan Studio (that’s me, folks!) gratefully acknowledges
the financial support of the City of Ottawa. Boy, do I!
Not to be outdone, I was also interviewed on the Out of the Basement podcast. Out of the Basement is a local podcast from here in Ottawa, but with social distancing due to COVID-19, it was handled remotely. This chat ranges from comics to D&D and was a lot of fun. This interview can be found at https://outofthebasement.ca/pod/ootb/out-of-the-basement-podcast-episode-91/ or downloaded directly as a MP3 here (again, just right click to download).
On September 27, 2018, I was part of a panel discussion during the 2018 Low-Beer Memorial Lecture that followed a screening of the documentary film "I Am Still Your Child." The film and panel discussion were presented by AMI Quebec (Action on Mental Illness) and was held at Concordia University's Oscar Peterson Concert Hall in Montreal. It was a pretty amazing evening!
The panel discussion was moderated by the always awesome Loreen Pindera from CBC Montreal and featured Megan Durnford (the film's writer and director), Rebecca Heinisch, Marie Leavens, and myself. AMI Quebec's Dr. Ella Amir added closing comments. It took a little while, but I'm very pleased to announce that the audio recording of the panel discussion from the panel discussion is now available! Yeah!
Marie Leavens: I’m Marie Levens. I’m Sarah’s mother.
Rebecca Heinisch: Hi, my name is Rebecca
Heinisch. I’ve been working with children who have parents
suffering from mental illness for the past, I would say, 14 years. I
wrote a children’s book to help children better understand what is
going on in their families when the parent is ill. And I’ve also,
with my husband, founded a non-profit organization and we run
programs for these children. And they’re for children between the
ages —
the program’s between the ages of 7 and 17.
Loreen Pindera: And Marie would like to say something about that
program.
Marie Leavens: Sarah is actually part of that program when she was
8 years old and it really, really helped her.
Rebecca Heinisch: Thank you.
Loreen Pindera: I have… I think you can hold off on the applause
till the end now. Or we’re going to get really tired.
It’s the third time I’ve watched the film now in the last few
days. And what I notice is every single time I take something
different away from it that I didn’t notice the first time. And
then I thought “oh look, there’s these things that are…”
some of that is just the fantastic editing job I think, Megan. But
one of the things, I actually pulled out a pen and jotted down this
time one of your lines, Von, which was, “I was trying to go to
school. I was trying to live my life.” And I thought, “what a
challenge that must have been.” And I thought maybe we could just
start by you talking about how you managed to juggle school, work,
friends, and caring for a parent, at the same time.
Von Allan: I’m not great
with these things, so bear with me. You know, the thing is it’s not
like there’s a blueprint for anything. You’re in it and things
are happening. And then you’re reacting to what’s happening. So I
think if I had known some of what was eventually going to happen with
my mom, that might have made my childhood and teenage years a lot
harder. But it was tough.
It’s very hard to be — for me — being in a public school. It
was never a particularly safe environment. And I never particularly
had — you know, you hear stories of the fantastic mentor-teacher
that you can really bond with. I never had anything like that and I
was bullied and picked on and what have you, as well. It helped being
tall early. That aided me a little bit. I hit the height I am now at
about 13, so that kind of helped. But for the most part, I kept my
head down. And I tried to get through the day and just get through my
school time as much as I could.
And I was lucky in some ways; while I’m not close to my father
at all, my dad also lived in Ottawa. My mom and dad got split up very
young, when I was very young. And it meant that there was somebody I
could go to during the times my mom was hospitalized or in deep
crisis. And it’s unfortunate; my relationship with him sort of fell
apart in my early 20s. I haven’t seen him since 1998. So, yeah,
it’s been a long time. But I’d be lying if I said he actually
wasn’t there for me. He was. And he did what he could.
So a lot of it is just, “it sucks.” It’s hard to go through
this. And it’s hard because you don’t know how anything is gonna
play out. You don’t know what the other end looks like. You have no
idea of what the future will bring. And you just muddle through. And
that’s basically how I view most of my childhood and teenage years,
is I just “muddled through” as best I could.
Loreen Pindera: I’m gonna turn to you now, Marie. I saw in all
three of the protagonists in this film some incredible strength of
character. And also the challenges. You, Megan, put the stat up very
early on that 30 to 50 percent, I think, of people who have parents
who have a mental illness can come into a mental illness themselves.
So that’s been… that is clearly a struggle for Sarah throughout.
And we have a little hint of that, that she’s not going to school
that you homeschooled her. Do you want to share a little bit of that
story?
Marie Leavens: Well, when Sarah was in kindergarten, she missed a
third of the year because of a different illness. She had a surgery
and stuff. And by the end of the year, you know —
well, because we read a lot at home —
while the other kids at school were able to put two, three
words together, my daughter was able to read entire books in English
without help, and in French with a little bit of help. So we’re
like, “what’s she gonna do in grade one?”
My husband already couldn’t work at that time. For various
reasons, but mainly his mental illness. So he’s like, “well, I
might as well, you know, let’s do the homeschooling routine.” And
we’re sure glad we did. She performed really well.
And then in 2015, my eldest son passed away. And that really had a
big impact on Sarah. And according to psychologists that we saw, if
she had been in school, she might have fell in a crack. So it was a
good thing she was home. This year, she’s back at school. She’s
at adult ed, because she’d like to have a diploma. But as you saw
in the movie, she mentioned she had anxiety, and so it’s been
really tough on her. Especially math, causing her a lot of anxiety,
which is why she couldn’t be here tonight. Her anxiety was too
strong. She just couldn’t get out of her room. But on the whole,
she’s still very strong. She has her days like anyone else, but
she’s still very strong. And we finally just managed to get her
some counselling.
Loreen Pindera: That, I’m sure, is a whole other chapter that
would take us in another direction. Focusing on the issue tonight of
carers, Sarah —
because she was home with her dad a lot —
took on this role of carer along with you too. Do you want to
talk about how that affected her?
Marie Leavens: Yeah. Well, especially at the beginning, because I
was the breadwinner, so I was out of the house up until the end of
2012, I was out of the house. So her dad was taking care of her, but
then he got sick around, oh my gosh, 2007, roughly. And so Sarah was
taking care of him. He couldn’t bend down to do things, because
he’s physically ill as well as mentally ill. So, yeah, she had to,
on a very early age, you know, “Sarah, can you do that?” “Sarah,”
all the time. And then he had his episodes once in a while. So she’d
just hide in her room, and I’d come home at night, and you know,
she’d be crying.
Finally, by the end of 2012, my husband couldn’t be left alone,
so I came home with her. But many times we heard her say —
not many times, but a couple of times —
we heard her say, you know, “I can’t ever leave my
parents, because they both need me.” Because, of course, with the
mental illness, I also had depression. So there’s been a time where
she’s been picking me up, as well. So it’s been tough on her. But
eventually, my husband and I convinced her that she has to have her
life. So I’m glad to say that she’s looking forward to that.
Loreen Pindera: How old is Sarah now?
Marie Leavens: She’s going to be 18 in a few weeks.
Loreen Pindera: I want to turn to you now, Megan, if I can. Just
talk about what drew you to make this film. Why did you feel it was
an important subject to tackle?
Megan Durnford: Well, the way that came about is quite a
complicated story, but I’ll just sum it up. I have a friend who
organizes TEDx youth talks in Montreal. So she’s always looking for
speakers. And at one point she invited me to go hear the story of a
young woman in St. Jerome. And this woman was going to talk about
what it was like to grow up —
everything was quite fine. And then, suddenly, her mother went
into a depression when she was 14. And so she was going to talk about
the next 10 years, what happened after that, how they both came out
the other end. So I went and I heard this young woman, and then my
friend said, “well, do you think this could be an interesting topic
for a documentary?” And I said, “well, I certainly don’t know
now. I have to do so much more research. I have to see is this a
typical story? What is the incidence? What’s the international
context? What are the resources?” But then as I started to look
into all these other issues, I realized,
“my goodness, it’s an extremely common situation that isn’t
especially well known. And there are potentially very serious
long-term repercussions for all of these children and teenagers.”
And so I realized, “yes, there is absolutely a potential to make a
documentary, and absolutely there is a need to raise public awareness
about this.”
Loreen Pindera: Do you want to tell us a little bit about the
process? How did you find your amazing protagonists?
Megan Durnford: That took a long time. That took a long
time. Well, the first step was I had to pitch a project to a
producer. So I pitched it to Katarina
at Catbird Productions. And she was able to pull together money
for research and development. So then I was travelling in different
parts of Quebec and meeting families who were living with this
situation. And you can imagine each situation was so different,
right, depending on the age of the child when this happened. I mean,
in many cases the child grew up from babyhood on with the parent
already suffering from mental illness. In many cases it sort of
happened suddenly. Huge range of different disorders. And then I was
sort of looking for commonalities
in the young people’s experience. I would say the hardest part of
all, though, was not finding people to tell me their stories.
The hardest part was to have someone agree to be filmed while
telling me their story. So, yes, so thankfully, Jesse, Sarah, and Von
agreed to participate and I think really they realized that —
although it was, of course, going to be difficult for them to
do that —
they realized that they could help other people through
telling their stories.
Loreen Pindera: That’s a good segue to pass the mic back over to
Von, perhaps, and ask you that question. Why did you agree to put
yourself out there like this?
Von Allan: Well, Megan and I first started talking, it was a while
before —
it was a slow developing process, with me sort of constantly
thinking, “this thing isn’t going to happen. It’s going to fall
through.” But it didn’t. And, well, no, obviously, I mean,
who knows how it was going to play out. But I felt I had the
advantage, I think, of having…
my mom died in 1994. So there’s been a certain amount of time
that’s gone past with that. And I felt getting involved in the film
was for some very similar reasons for why I wanted to do the graphic
novel [“the road to god knows…”].
I thought it was an interesting story. I thought in many ways that
what happened to my mom —
and I still think what happened to my mom —
isn’t fair. And I think that talking about that helps. It
doesn’t solve anything, but getting some of those experiences out
there can’t hurt. And there is —
and I’m sure everybody here knows this —
but there’s still a lot of stigma, still a lot of
stereotypes with it. So anything you can do to sort of punch through
that is great.
Really, the best thing I can use as an example for how things have
changed is I said earlier my school life wasn’t great —
and it wasn’t —
but I had the opportunity this past May to go back to my
junior high school —
Glashan
[Public School] —
and they were doing something which would have been
unthinkable when I was a kid is they actually had, for grade eights,
a mental health
week. And they had a mental health symposium and they had all
kinds of different guests and public health advocates and what have
you. It was really neat. And they invited me. And it was weird
to go back into that school that certainly was not a happy fun place
for me, but talking very openly, very similar to what’s in the film
and what have you —
and I’m pretty open when anybody talks to me anyway —
it was really neat to talk to kids that were 12, I guess,
grade eight, and then have, at the end, some of them even share some
of the stuff they’re going through. And that, again, would have
been unfathomable when I was a kid.
Loreen Pindera: Of course, one of the purposes of AMI-Quebec’s
existence is to network and make some of these connections and to
find ways to provide some of these resources. So maybe you could just
talk about what you were missing as a kid. What might have helped?
Von Allan: Money!
Loreen Pindera: Okay, start with that.
Von Allan: Well, because it’s still the thing that poverty made
harder. And the courage my mom must have had —
I’m only more aware of now as an adult —
to navigate Ontario —
we were in Ontario —
so to navigate Ontario’s social services system when she was
at her worst. And, we were on welfare. So there was a constant battle
of “there’s not enough money, how are we going to make rent?
Where’s food going to come from?” She went to food banks. She got
help and aid anywhere she can, any way she could have. And I don’t
know how she did it. And she shielded me a lot from it. So I only
became vaguely aware — more when I was getting into my teenage
years — about what she was doing. And it was just…
it was brutal. And that was under —
to be political —
that was under Bob
Rae’s NDP government in Ontario. And she died the same year, I
think, that Mike
Harris’ conservative government came into power. And at that
point in Ontario, welfare, social services, mental health, took a
massive hit. And I don’t know how my mom would have handled that.
She was already holding on barely at that time. And there would have
been a massive reduction in what meagre income she was getting into
the later part of the 90s.
So first and foremost, it’s not that money cures everything, but
it can take some of the pressure off, the pressure of how you’re
going to make rent, the pressure of how you’re going to feed this
kid. Or this kid needs clothes for school, this kid needs some
various support. And I know — particularly as an adult, because we
all go through this — but looking back on it, the anxiety that must
have been terrifying to deal with, on top of everything else. And
then the rest of it is certainly a better, a more easily navigatable
social services system. My mom bounced around. So, there was — to
this day, I think — that the one big thing she was missing was an
advocate. Somebody that could have spoken for her,
particularly when she was going through —
again, at her worst — to get help, to have somebody there
who could represent her.
And, on a personal note —
it’s already a personal note, but on a more personal
note —
my wife has gone through five physical surgeries now. So,
she’s fine mentally, but she has gone through a lot. And I’ve
been able to go with her. And it’s hard. It’s been interesting to
watch her talk to her surgeon or various physicians and what have
you. And, you know, be anxious, to be sort of struggling and to be
like, “well, you’re going to go into surgery and we’re going to
do some stuff.” And it’s been nice to — for the most part, keep
my mouth shut — but then to be able to go, “oh, you wanted to ask
about this.” Or, “can we talk about this?” To have somebody as
a third person —
and I love her —
but to have somebody as a third person being able to help
navigate the system. My mom had nothing. And, wow.
Loreen Pindera: To what extent, I want to hear from everybody else
too, but while we’re on this track, to what extent, Von, did you
play that role as advocate as a kid?
Von Allan: Not as much. I’d be lying if I said otherwise. And I
think it’s twofold. One, a lot of it is I was really young. And
then secondly, I think my mom really did try to shield me from it.
And that broke down as I got into my teenage years. So she got more
open as I got older about what she was going through, but I think her
ability to shield me from it also deteriorated. But it wasn’t like
I was going to into psychiatric wards with her, except to visit her.
And she had a psychiatrist that she was seeing. And I mean, I would
sometimes go with her and wait in the lobby, but that’s it. It
wasn’t like I was going into the room with my mom.
So really, at the end of the day, my mom —
she was still on her own. So I could help at home. I could
take some of the pressure off at home. I could clean. I could do
certain things. But it was still tough. And in some ways I wish I
could have done more. But I think the film —
it says it in the film pretty well. “At what point do you
stop living your life?” And I was 18 and 19 just at the very end.
My mom died when I was 20. So my life might have been very, very
different.
Loreen Pindera: I’m going to take the mic away from you and pass
it over to Marie and ask some of the same questions, from the context
of Quebec, about the resources that you could have used for Sarah
that maybe weren’t there to start with.
Marie Leavens: Well, I think we’ve been very blessed as a family
here because I have a big mouth, so I’m able to barge through
stuff. And I have learned very early that I had to, you know, when I
go to a doctor, it’s like, “yeah, she needs this, she needs
that.” But sometimes it’s very difficult. Sarah is finally going
to get help from the Jewish hospital for her anxiety disorder. They
refused to have her diagnosed, to diagnose her earlier. They refused
to try to diagnose her earlier. They just diagnosed her with ADHD.
She was too young, apparently, to be diagnosed for bipolar disorder.
Today we’re finally getting somewhere. We met with a
psycho-educator just this past week. It’s been four or five years
now that I’ve been trying to fight my way there. Especially since
2015 when my son died, it really hit hard on Sarah because he was
like her second dad. She’s been seeing a psychotherapist for two
years now, but she can only see her once a month because I can’t
afford more. And, you know, when she went to the CLSC for
counselling, first of all, it was all in French. Yes, I am French,
but my daughter is a lot more comfortable in English than in French.
And the psychotherapist refused to acknowledge her faith as something
to help her. So Sarah was feeling really bad about that because her
faith — as you’ve seen — she’s very connected with the
church, with the youth especially at the church. And it’s really
helping her. These kids have really been supporting her throughout
everything, although they don’t understand everything. But just the
fact that they’ve been praying for her, being there when she was
crying, you know, it’s really been tremendous for Sarah, that
network.
Loreen Pindera: I want to come back to that, Marie, and I’m not
forgetting about you, Rebecca. But, Megan, maybe you could talk about
why that was so critical to include in the film. Because the church
scene and… what were
you trying to show there?
Megan Durnford: Well, in fact, that was absolutely essential
because that is a huge part of Sarah’s story. Because I spent quite
a bit of time with Sarah and Marie and Andy. And I could see that
even though Sarah hadn’t really found a lot of help through the
social services yet. They were waiting and now, finally, success.
They had, well, a lot of really strong emotional bonds within the
family. But I could also see that the church was a very important
source of support for Sarah. So it was essential to include the scene
because that is part of what was helping Sarah deal with the
situation that she was in.
Loreen Pindera: There’s also her friendship with Helena. Helena,
is that…
Megan Durnford: Marlena.
Loreen Pindera: Marlena, sorry. Yes. And I guess it’s the same
thing in terms of community and friendship.
Megan Durnford: Right. And as she says in the film, she says that,
of course, obviously they’re teenagers. They have a lot of fun just
goofing off. But both of them can relate to each other on a very deep
and serious level about anxiety and other mental health issues. So I
could sense that right away and hopefully you can from the film that
they’re very tight.
Loreen Pindera: Von, maybe I could ask you the question about
friendships and whether, you know, how isolated were you as a kid?
Were there people you could talk to? What other resources did you
draw on to become so grounded as you are today?
Von Allan: [Laughter] Well, I don’t know about the last part,
but I did have a small collection of really good friends, some of
which I’m still friends with to this day.
But. I was pretty embarrassed about how I lived. I knew we
were poor and I knew our place was pretty crappy. And I was pretty
shy and —
I don’t know if I would use embarrassed, but it’s probably
the best word for it is —
talking when you’re 12 or 13 with other friends about my
mom’s situation was just a non-starter. So I didn’t do it. And I
can only look back and go, “yeah, I probably was more isolated than
I realized.” But at the same time, I don’t think one can
overstate the ability to just go hang out with friends and not
have to stress about this stuff and not have to think about
it. And that, I think, in hindsight, helped me far more than I ever
realized. You know, I was a geek so I like comics, I like sci-fi, and
I like role-playing games, and being able to go do that on a Saturday
afternoon or after school or something like that was probably far
healthier than I ever realized.
Loreen Pindera: Would it have been helpful if someone had said to
you, “there’s a group of other young people whose mothers are
schizophrenic, would you like to go talk?” Would you have even done
it?
Von Allan: I really don’t know about that. I really don’t. I
get asked this sometimes, “what if there was a great teacher? What
if…” When I did
the presentation at the junior high, at the end one of the
[sessions], teachers were like, “well, where do you suggest
somebody in your situation go?” And I’m like, “Kids
Help Phone? I don’t know!” This is not easy things to deal
with. And it really depends on the kid. It’s going to depend
very much on who you are rather than having the right… So yes,
obviously more things out there, more supports, more public supports,
more obvious supports, but different… there will be different
solutions or maybe no quote-unquote “solution” at all for kids.
And I don’t think, when I look back at how I was when I was 12 and
13, that I would have even been comfortable broaching the subject,
particularly to strangers, even if I knew they were going through
something similar to me.
Loreen Pindera: Okay. Did you want to say something, Megan? Yeah,
okay. I’ll pass that back to you again, Marie, just to talk about
does Sarah participate in such an organization? Would it be helpful
for her or…?
Marie Leavens: Well, like I said, Sarah has done the Anna workshop
and that has really been a big, big help. There she’s learned how
to relax when there’s a crisis in the house and how to cope with
it. But the other thing that Sarah’s had an advantage with is
because of our church, because of the co-op where she was going,
though the people there were like a big family. There’s no
judgment. There was nothing. So she was always able to speak freely.
It took a while because when she was very young, my husband was
very upset when I would talk about this. And one day I said, “listen,
Andy, I’m the kind of person I can’t keep things in. To cope with
it, I have to talk it over. I have to share with my friends. For them
to pray with me and try to understand what I’m going through. So if
you don’t let me speak about it, then I’m going to end up with
having a problem myself.” Finally he said, “okay.” And after
that, he found it freeing for himself to be able to talk about it.
Because everyone at our church —
we’ve been there since Sarah was born —
before Sarah was born. So we’re well-known and
well-grounded. And everybody knows about these issues. So whenever,
even if he’s at church and he flips, nobody is surprised. There’s
support. There’s a network. So because of that, Sarah knew she
could open up very early. So that’s always been, I think, a great
thing for her.
Loreen Pindera: I’m going to ask you to pass the mic over to
Rebecca now. And maybe I could get you to start by telling us —
it’s 14 years now since the book came out.
Rebecca Heinisch: Correct.
Loreen Pindera: Tell us what led you to write the book in the
first place.
Rebecca Heinisch: Well, there are two things. One of the things is
personal experience. Direct personal experience. I was raised
in a family where mental illness was present. In my case, it was my
mother who was suffering from mental illness and from a very young
age, from the time that I was born. And I can relate to many of the
things that Von said, that Sarah has said, that Jessie said also,
about having to live that situation, but in silence —
being isolated. In our family, it was never ever
addressed. Mental illness was not addressed, despite the fact that
there were many hospitalizations, many suicide attempts, and so on.
And just the fact that it was not addressed, that it was so taboo,
really impacted me. And I felt that there was nothing around —
being very isolated — there was nothing around to help. And so, I
just kind of had to, as Von said, keep my head down, push forward, go
on autopilot, and just move on and cope with the unpredictability,
the fact that everything is very unsettling. And as Sarah said, life
is like a roller coaster, very much like a roller coaster.
So, having lived the experience myself as a child and growing up
and becoming an adolescent and really having no one to speak with, I
realized that there needed to be resources for children to help them
understand, “well, what’s going on in my family? Why is my parent
acting like this? What can I do? And is it normal that I have all
these conflicting feelings? Is it normal that I want to help so much?
Is it normal that I feel angry?”
Also, I drew on experience as a teacher because I was working in
the elementary schools and it’s such a prevalent issue. It was not
rare in a class of maybe 20, 25 kids to find six of them or seven of
them who were living with a parent having mental illness. And I was
seeing these children in class being totally dysfunctional on the
social level, on the academic level, and yet they were totally
isolated, also. And this really shook me to the core. I could relate
to them, I felt for them, and I just felt — even as a teacher, we
didn’t have the tools, as a teacher. The schools didn’t have the
tools to help these children — and so I felt compelled and called
to write a book and help bring awareness to the fact that many, many
children are in this situation.
Loreen Pindera: So, “Anna and the Sea,” maybe you can tell us
why it’s called “Anna and the Sea.”
Rebecca Heinisch: Well, the protagonist’s name is Anna, and she
is a young girl. Her mother suffers from mental illness. And the
setting is in a village by the sea. And Anna finds comfort through
two different characters who come from the sea. A crab named Gustave
and a turtle named Tremender. And they are actually very therapeutic.
They’re like counsellors for Anna. And in meeting with these
characters she’s able to voice her questions and realize that her
feelings are normal. And also she receives several tips, help about
self-nurturing and also validation that it’s okay for her to want
to invest in her own life.
And this is an issue that’s very critical for children growing
up with a parent who’s mentally ill. Because to separate from your
parent brings on feelings of great guilt because you feel like you’re
abandoning them. So in the book she is given the permission through
this very important creature, the crab, given the permission to be a
child, to have her feelings and become and develop and become all
that she can be.
Loreen Pindera: So you have, it’s gone from a book to a resource
that’s being, we were discussing earlier, widely used. In fact, I
discovered in my web search today that they’re crazy about this
book in Australia! So maybe you can tell us the short version of how
it got where it is and how it’s being used today. How the book and
the resource workbook are being used.
Rebecca Heinisch: Well, I can just sum it up in one word. It’s
snowballed. And never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that it
would grow and become a resource and a non-profit organization. I
just wanted to start with a book, something that could help address
the issue. And there was a great response from the mental health
practitioners who began requesting, “well, the book is wonderful,
but do you have any educational activities? Can you go further? Is
there anything else out there?” And I thought, “well, maybe there
could be.”
So I took sabbatical leave from teaching and I began a pilot
project with some children and began creating activities —
educational activities —
and then presented them to practitioners and they felt it was
a worthwhile endeavour. And so we received funding from the Alcoa
Foundation to produce the first program, which is the Anna
Workshops. And we began promoting the workshops all throughout
Quebec. We’ve trained practitioners in 29 cities. But what we did
was we set up in Trois-Rivières the organization where we began
intervening and creating other programs, programs for adolescents,
and a very important program, which we set up quite early, which is
the Navigators. It’s a respite program.
Because —
Von, if I can just bounce off something that you said earlier,
if it’s okay with you —
you said the power of getting together with friends and just
hanging out and doing things, the power of getting together. So
through one of the programs we created, we allow the children to hang
out, but to do activities. We bring them horseback riding, fishing,
to museums, and these activities go on all throughout the year. And
this is a very, very important part of the resources that we offer,
because the kids need to get out of the house. And they need to get
out, they need to be together, and they need to have fun. It’s the
power of pleasure. And it’s a very long process for a child growing
up with someone who’s mentally ill to realize that they are allowed
to experience pleasure.
Loreen Pindera: Thank you very much. Marie, maybe you could talk a
little bit about Sarah’s experience with the program.
Marie Leavens: Yeah. Well, like I said, she’s learned to really
relax in crisis and that kind of stuff. But she also has done the
respites. And you know, like Von talked about poverty; because of my
husband’s mental illness, because he didn’t take care of himself,
now he’s physically ill, so I had to leave my full-time job, take
care of him full-time as well. So we live on welfare. Because when
you have a husband who’s bipolar, you don’t have a lot of
savings. It’s almost a taboo word in our home.
So, because of that, we could never offer Sarah activities like
that. And through Alpabem —
which is similar to AMI-Quebec
in Laval, where we live —
Sarah’s been able to do climbing. She’s been able to go to
some museums, all kinds of activities like that. Some workshops, like
bead workshops. And she would come home beaming. Because, you
know, it was something that she could never have dreamed. And for
that little bit of time, she was a kid. We talked about relationship
earlier. And that’s one thing for Sarah that’s always been very
difficult. She never had friends around our home. The few times she
had friends, she was bullied. She was not… She was never happy
there. So that’s why we kept in contact with the youth church,
because there she was never judged. Same with the homeschool co-op.
Those are the place where those were her havens. But having this time
where she could just do something very special. Something that she
could come back to co-op to her friends at church. “Guess what I
did this week? I went rock climbing!” And, you know, she could hear
the others talk about that. But she could never even dream of it. So
for her, that was really big.
Loreen Pindera: I think we have to wrap up quite soon. But I want
to touch on a couple of other things. Von, just having heard what you
heard there. I know we’re talking a quarter of a century later, but
do you think some of those resources would have made a difference?
Von Allan: Maybe. It would have been helpful to know that
something like that was out there. I think that’s probably about as
far as I could go with it, because I have no idea. I mean, I was… I
cannot over-emphasize how shy I was as a kid. And a lot of things
changed as I got older. But I was really, really introverted when I
was young. To feel safe in an environment where you could actually
open up? That’s tough. But to be able to get away from it and to be
able to just not even have to think about it and do other things.
That was huge. And because we didn’t have a lot of money, one nice
thing —
it’s changed a little bit now, but particularly then —
was comics were cheap. Role-playing games were pretty cheap.
And because of the nature of the game itself, you could just play it
basically forever. You don’t need a lot of stuff aside from paper
and pencils and dice. So we could tell stories. We could do goofy
things. And that —
particularly for low income [families] —
that really —
more so than I probably ever realized —
really helped me through. And libraries helped and stuff like
that too.
Loreen Pindera: I want to… when we first met this evening, I
said to you, “wow, it’s so interesting that all three of the
protagonists in this film are such creative people.” Do you play
the guitar too, by the way?
Von Allan: No! Not a musical bone in my body!
Loreen Pindera: And you said to me, “and there’s the dog
theme,” which I didn’t notice until the third time. But maybe you
might… you clearly feel great affection for your dog, or you
wouldn’t carry him around. Maybe you could just talk about that —
and maybe Megan wants to talk about it, too —
but how the… and I’ll see if you want to say something
about that too Marie, but I think it was worth touching on because
clearly the dog was important and is important in everybody’s
lives.
Von Allan: Dogs are amazing. I’m a huge believer in cats and
dogs. I’ve had multiple in my life. And they are always in
the moment, they are… there’s unrequited love. They are who they
are, and they are amazing characters. Corbin,
my dog, still my dog now, is a rescue
husky from Iqaluit who does not like to walk. [Megan]
didn’t believe me, and was like “no, let’s get some shots of
you walking your dog in the film.” And I was like, “this is not
going to go well.” And it didn’t. He walked for a bit, and then —
he just he does not love leaving the house.
And it’s also been interesting to watch a dog who has also gone
through some trauma. He is a perfectly happy, healthy dog, but he
doesn’t like leaving the house at all. So, yeah, dogs. Amazing!
Loreen Pindera: I wonder if your choice of a dog who’s gone
through trauma has something to do with your childhood. I’m not
going too far here.
Von Allan: I like rescues, so it was probably more dumb luck. Our
previous husky who died, Rowen,
she was also a rescue, but was much more of what you think of as a
husky, which is “you point them in a direction and you walk
forever.” That dog would walk all over the place. So we’ll never
know exactly what Corbin’s mix is.
He’s a husky mix of some sort, but he bonded to us. He bonded to
his home, and that’s magic for him.
Loreen Pindera: I think that I’ve gone through my question list
here, and it’s probably… you probably have your own, and I think
we’ll have a little time afterwards to have one-on-one
conversations. Is there anything else that anyone would like to say
before I wrap? That perhaps I haven’t… go ahead.
Marie Leavens: Yeah. You’re talking about the dog. In our home,
Drake is called the “Dog-ter.” Because he really, really, really
helps my husband. It’s amazing, amazing how much he points us like
a lot. My husband, like when you heard me scream at some point and
the thing went black, my husband hadn’t died. It looked like
that when you look at the movie. But he has those fainting spells.
Well, they’re not really fainting spells. It’s like narcolepsy.
He falls asleep on his feet, but it’s due to another side of his
mental illness. When anxiety goes high, he starts passing out. And
that was at the beginning where we weren’t quite sure what was
going on. Now we know a little bit more. And the dog could tell us up
to 10 minutes, 15 minutes sometimes, ahead of time, that he was going
to have a spell. It’s pretty amazing.
Loreen Pindera: A last word to you, Rebecca. Is there anything
you’d like to add?
Rebecca Heinisch: I would just like to say that this film, this
documentary, is so powerful. And I’m just so grateful and
thankful that you’ve made this documentary, Megan.
Von Allan: Yeah.
Loreen Pindera: Yes. Megan, maybe you could just tell us what life
the film has now? Where does it go from here?
Megan Durnford: I don’t necessarily know the answer to that.
We’re waiting to hear back from… Well, there’s a conference in
Oslo in May that is considering it. There’s various film festivals.
There’s plenty of community screenings. Actually, apparently in
October it will be screened in Australia, the community screening.
So, it’s just getting going.
Loreen Pindera: Oh, is it going to be translated? There you go.
Megan Durnford: There is a French version.
Loreen Pindera: And I think you all know that you can find it on
CBC
online. If anybody doesn’t know how to find it, I think
actually all you have to do is look up cbc.ca
and the name of the film and you’ll come straight to it. It’s
very easy to find and it’s going to stay online for some time… I
think forever, for a long time.
Ella Amir: So thank you very much, everyone. Thank you very much.
I feel it was really a powerful and remarkable documentary. And I
know that it will have… I’m sure that it will have life of its
own, not only in Australia and New Zealand, but also here, because we
really do hope that it will help us to put young carers on the map
and this is certainly a good step forward. So thank you very much,
and thank you very much, and see you next year.
It’s always a bit weird to be writing this, but here goes. I’m
one of the winners of a 2019 CBC Trailblazer Award. With a trophy and
everything! I have to admit to having mixed feelings about awards*,
but it’s still pretty neat to have won one. And since this is
the second award I’ve won for my art-related activities, it is
another “arrow in the quiver,” especially given how hard
it’s been to get to this point.
Hard?
Hell,
yeah.
Art,
as a career, is not the easiest thing in the world to make a “go”
of, especially given the austerity-fueled times we live in. And it
has taken me a long time, longer than I would have liked, to reach
the point that my art is, for lack of a better word, “professional.”
‘Course, one of the interesting things about art is what one
means by “professional” can take on all kinds of
different meanings. It really depends on who you are and what you
like.
In
my specific case, I knew I was pretty rough, but we really do learn
by doing.
“Doing”
also meant falling on my face. A lot. I’ve covered that in a
piece I wrote called “On Getting Stronger” so I won’t
cover that again here.
I
think one of the interesting things about the Trailblazer Award is it
really is recognition for the work I continue to do around my first
graphic novel, the road to god knows...
Who knew, when I first self-published it almost ten years ago, it
would still be finding a life
now? That’s in large part thanks to the documentary film I Am Still Your Child, written and
directed by Megan Durnford, produced by Katarina Soukup and the fine
folks at Catbird Productions, and
supported by all the creative folks behind it (including “behind
the scenes” people like Alex Margineanu, Howard Goldberg, Kathy Sperberg, Stéphanie Couillard, and Sara Morley, as well as folks like
Jessy Bokser, Sarah Leavens, and Marie Leavens who I shared screen time with). The
film gave a “second life,” so to speak, to the graphic
novel and has led to speaking engagements, panel discussions, Skype
conversations, and on and on.
And,
more concretely, it’s given me an opportunity to talk about my
mom. Not just her battle with schizophrenia, but also the poverty we
battled combined with the lack of social programs to help her. To
talk about the immense courage she showed (courage I’ve
really only became truly aware of as an adult) while she fought a
lonely and often terrifying battle to navigate a truly unforgiving
health care and social aid system. And
what it was like to grow up with her, for both good and ill.
It’s
funny; my mom died pretty young, at 48. And I’m slowly but
surely approaching that age myself. In fact, I’ve now lived
longer without her in
my life than I did with her (she died when I was 20, and I’m
now well-past 40 myself). But the memory of her stays with me still.
That’s partially because I loved her, of course, but also
because I still find, to this day, how unfair her situation was. And
the fact that it never had to be that way. Despite all of the “by
your own bootstraps” nonsense we live in (you know, that idea
that any failure, let alone any health issue, is a sign of personal
rather than societal failure), what happened to my mom was grossly
unfair. What is heartbreaking to me is that the unfairness she
experienced is experienced by so many other people right to this very
day.
Yeah,
yeah, awareness about mental health and mental illness is better.
There’s more open and frank discussion around it. Sure. But
poverty has not gone away. The lack of social support really hasn’t
changed. Welfare rates for anyone (let alone single moms) have, if
anything, gotten much worse. We can talk about “resilience”
and “perseverance” as much as we’d like. We can
even point to individuals who’ve managed to do just that, but
what about those who can’t? There’s still a chronic lack
of systemic support.
There’s still a culture that desperately needs healing (don’t
believe me? Look at the
suicides that are still occurring in the wake of the Parkland
shooting).
I’m
pleased to do what I can to help. And I’m proud, damn proud, to
talk about my mom. To help put a face on what otherwise might be
simple dry statistics.
To use my art, as best I can, to show what some of this is like. But
it’s hard not to escape the idea that in a very real way, the
2019 Trailblazer Award should not have gone to me.
It
really should have gone to my mom.
She
died in 1994, alone and isolated. I had moved out some months before
because I had to, for my own sanity and self-esteem.
What
I try to stress to people, though, is that she had hopes and dreams.
Things she still wanted to accomplish. Who knows what she might have
done if she had managed to beat a truly vile disease and get
healthier? She’d be 73 right now, probably feisty as all get
out, and probably telling her own story to people, trailblazing
change.
I
don’t doubt that for a second. But it was not to be.
I
placed, a long time ago, the grief along with the disappointment of
what could have been. It is what it is and it happened a long time
ago. But other people, right now, are going through similar things.
And even if mental illness is not a part of it, there is still
crushing poverty, a cold and often hostile health and social services
system, kids going hungry, massive personal debts, and horrible
unhappiness. All the celebratory economic statistics in the world
doesn’t change that. There is a lack of solidarity with each
other, not just with our fellow citizens but a lack of solidarity and
fellowship with people around the globe (don’t believe me? Look
at all the hate against immigrants and refugees we’re seeing
now).
We
have to overcome this.
And
what about me? Well, I continue to grow and get stronger, especially
with my art (both visual art and my writing, too). And with my art I
try to not just focus on the past (though always to honour it), but
to move forward with new stories and new adventures. One of the
things about falling in love with art, with comics, and with visual
storytelling, is that the growing and learning never stops.
Using
comics to tell stories has been, I think, the most rewarding thing
I’ve done as an adult. And I can still remember where I was
when the journey started to where I am now. Harder than hell, yeah,
but rewarding all the same.
I
can’t wait to see what happens next.
*
The late Harlan Ellison, back on the “Awards” episode of
the TVOntario program PRISONERS OF GRAVITY said it best: “I
think awards are bullshit. I think awards are detrimental to
the writers…You win a Hugo, you win a Nebula, you win a Horror
Writer’s Award, you win an Edgar, I’ve won all of them in
multiples for god’s sake. What you’re getting are
popularity awards.
If you were a good boy that year. If you were published in the right
place. If the right people read
it. If stories that were five times better than yours were published
in places no one saw them. Then you get an award. They’re
meaningless.
They
had value, years ago, as being, you know, you could put them on a
cover of a paperback. “Hugo Award Winner.” Well, every
book you pick up now is a Hugo Award Winner or Hugo Award Nominee. Or
someone thought this should have won a Hugo. They
don’t mean squat.
The
minute you start thinking that you’ve won an award because
you’re a terrific writer, you’re dead.”
Always
good to keep in mind, right?
Postscript
Here's the CBC Video Interview with me about the Trailblazer Award:
I recently did a Skype interview with the fantastic John Swinimer, host of the True North Country Comics Podcast. John and I covered a range of subjects, including my recent comics work (WOLF'S HEAD!) as well as the documentary film I'm a participant in (I AM STILL YOUR CHILD). We also talked about mental health and mental illness in general and how my mom struggled with schizophrenia, a pretty vile disease.
I love talking comics and creativity and this interview has quite a bit about that, too! There is something about storytelling, and comic book storytelling in particular, that I find exciting. I think the visual language of comics is endlessly fascinating, something I hope that I bring to my own work, not to mention how comics unites words and illustrations in a really neat way.
Just prior to the September 27, 2018 screening of the documentary film I AM STILL YOUR CHILD in Montreal as part of the 2018 Low-Beer Memorial Lecture (photos from the event are here), I scampered over to CBC Montreal to do an interview with Sue Smith on the drive home show "Homerun." And thanks to the CBC's Loreen Pindera, I now have an audio copy of the interview I can share!
You can listen to the interview by clicking here or by clicking play on the old timey audio player below. In addition, a lightly edited transcript is provided below.
Lightly Edited Transcript
Sue
Smith: You know, we often talk about getting resources for people
struggling with a mental illness. But what we don’t hear about are
the children who act as caregivers for their own parents who live
with a mental illness. Montreal filmmaker Megan Durnford saw this as
a problem. So she made a documentary featuring three people who grew
up as child caregivers.
Audio excerpt from the documentary film “I
Am Still Your Child”: It can be a lot with mom and school, but
like, thankfully she’s not super needy right now and I help her
when I’m able to. You know, if something happened with her, I don’t
care about my essay. Like, I’m going to do whatever she needs me to
do because her mental health is more important than my grade for this
class.
Sue Smith: That’s the voice of Jessie Bokser, one of three
people featured in the documentary, “I Am Still Your Child.” Von
Allan is also in the film. Von’s mother struggled with
schizophrenia. She died more than 20 years ago. And Von joins me in
the studio. Thanks for coming in, Von.
Von Allan: Oh, you’re very welcome. Hi.
Sue Smith: Hi. So I just came from the film. I’ve just finished
watching it. It’s pretty emotional.
Von Allan: Yeah.
Sue Smith: So tell me a little bit about your story. What was it
like growing up with a mother with schizophrenia?
Von Allan: It was tough. My mom had problems even before I was
born, I’ve subsequently found out. So she was ‘mom’ when I was
a little kid. And it was only as I got older, probably around nine,
maybe even ten, that her problems —
I think her ability to hide her problems from me diminished. And I
was an only child. It was just me and my mom. And then her ability to
want to talk to me more about it —
to be more open about it —
also increased.
But at the same time, her situation was getting tougher. She was
having nervous breakdowns and [would be] hospitalized for a while.
And so she would sometimes disappear for a few days, a few weeks. And
then she’d be back and she’d be ‘mom.’ In hindsight, it was a
more disruptive upbringing. At the time, I knew we were poor. I knew
we were struggling. I didn’t know that things were, quote unquote,
‘wrong’ with my mom, until I became an early teenager. And I sort
of realized ‘she’s not really like other moms.’ She’s smart.
She’s capable. And then sometimes she’s not. So it was a unique
upbringing. And there wasn’t anybody to talk to about it either.
Sue Smith: No. And you have this line that you say in the film
that just came back to me as something like poverty, bankruptcy,
schizophrenia, all three together. That was rough. I mean, that’s
rough.
Von Allan: Yeah. Yeah. Well, I mean, I’ve particularly as an
adult, I get sometimes stunned by the courage it must have taken my
mom to be trying to raise a kid, having these issues, and then —
because we declared bankruptcy around when I was 12 or 13 and then we
were on welfare in Ontario —
she was trying to navigate a somewhat dysfunctional social service
system then. And in many ways, it’s gotten much worse now. And I
don’t know how she did it. And she did it without an ombudsman or
an advocate. I was too young. There wasn’t anybody else. My mom and
dad split when I was very, very young.
Sue Smith: Although you talk about the spaghetti incident in the
film as a time when you did call your dad in. So it does seem like
maybe once in a while he was able to help you.
Von Allan: Yeah, I think I was lucky for some of that stuff is my
dad was in my life. I wasn’t living with him, but he was in my
life. And through sort of the separation agreement, I would see him
fairly regularly. So he was somebody there that I could, when things
got really bad, between when my mom was hospitalized, I could stay
with. So I wasn’t being, you know, put into foster care.
Sue Smith: Well, that’s what I was going to say. It’s kind of
remarkable that your mother was able to keep you.
Von Allan: And I really wonder about that. Again, it’s one of
those things where, as a kid, I have memories of social workers
coming into our house and our house was pretty crappy. Our apartment
was pretty crappy. And I know I was embarrassed by it a lot. But
these —
strangers from my point of view —
would come in and sort of evaluate. And I have no idea to this
day; was it close that somebody was like, “this kid should
be somewhere else?” Or was it not? I have no idea. It’s those
things that —
particularly when you’re a little kid or even just a kid —
you don’t have the context unless somebody really sits you
down and talks to you about it. And for the most part…
I mean, my mom was pretty open about some of what she was going
through, again, into my teen years. But things like that, I had no
idea.
Sue Smith: Now, you’re a graphic artist and you wrote a book
about it, which is featured in the film, “the road to god knows…”.
How did that or did that help you sort of somehow process some of
this stuff? Because this is like really tough stuff for a
nine-year-old, a 12-year-old. Even as an adult, it must be hard to
process.
Von Allan: Yeah, well, it was certainly tough to kind of revisit
it. But in a way, particularly after my mom died and I sort of set
out on drawing and what have you, I knew for was my first book —
particularly for a first story —
I wanted to do something that was really personal to me. And
at that time, looking around, there wasn’t anything else like that
out there. So I thought this might be the kind of story that’s
worth telling.
It’s fictionalized. So the main character is a girl named Marie,
not me. So it’s sort of a fictionalized biography or autobiography,
but that allowed me to play with a bit of time and compress certain
events. But yeah, for the most part, all of it is true, except for me
fictionalizing some of my friends a little bit.
Sue Smith: Yeah, of course. That’s why they’re still your
friends, probably. So one of the things that’s really brought up a
few times in the film is how when you have a parent who struggles
with mental health issues, that affects your own mental health as a
child. How has that affected your own mental health or even just
worrying about your own mental health?
Von Allan: Yeah, I think worrying. I’ve probably been lucky, and
it’s one of those things especially with schizophrenia, as more
data comes out, it seems to be more of a genetic disease than
anything else. So I remember, particularly in my 20s, kind of
wondering, because my recollections of my mom were lots of moments;
like days, weeks, months of lucidity, and then ups and downs, really
just bumpy and unpredictable. So very, very strange.
And also her sense of reality, particularly with that disease, was
very, very tough. Certainly things I knew she told me didn’t
happen, but then there were other allegations, particularly sexual
abuse and stuff, that may have happened and may not have happened.
It’s impossible to disentangle. And in that case, everybody is
dead. So there’s just no way to know. And so for myself,
particularly at that time, it was tough and I worried a bit about it.
But as you get older and you kind of navigate your own life and
what have you, it’s okay. So certainly there are… Because with my
mom, there’s a difference between being unhappy —
being discouraged by events —
and being devastated by them. And I have memories of my mom
not being able to get out of bed. Like she just… I’d get up to go
to school, get my own breakfast, off I go, come home, and she’d
still be in bed. And it’s just there were… she had anxiety issues
on top of everything else. And then when you throw in depression, she
also had migraines. And then I think it’s important to say, too, is
that her physical health — particularly into her 40s, and she died
at 48; she died very young — that also started to play an
increasing role in all of the difficulties. So she’s not only
dealing with a mental illness and trying to navigate a social system
and get the help that she needs. And she was able to do some of that.
But then her nutrition was awful. She gained a lot of weight. I have
vivid memories of… She lost teeth. So, she couldn’t smile
properly anymore. So it was just… you throw all of this stuff
together and it sort of means that your sense of dignity — your
sense of self-esteem — really diminishes. And you’re getting hit
from what you’re struggling with, and then you’re getting hit
from an outside, all these other events that are happening around
you, and particularly poverty. It’s really tough.
Sue Smith: I mean, all these things that you’re talking about —
poverty, mental illness, and the kind of, you know, letting
yourself go, fearing your own mental illness —
these are all really taboo subjects. And you are speaking
about them super openly. Why is it important? Why did you decide to
do this? What do you want people to know?
Von Allan: I think the bottom line is that a mental illness —
any mental illness —
is just that. It’s an illness. It’s a disease. It’s
like cancer. And the people who have it, it’s not because they
screwed up. It’s not that they’ve made personal decisions and
they haven’t taken personal responsibility for their actions. It’s
dumb luck. And it’s bad luck. And I think the worst thing
that people can do is be scared of it. And in a way, because of the
way I grew up…
Sue Smith: But it is scary.
Von Allan: It is scary, but a lot of things are scary. A lot of
diseases, a lot of things that go wrong with our bodies, in just the
physical sense, can be really scary, can be really difficult. But it
didn’t mean my mom was any less loving. It didn’t mean she was
any less compassionate or empathic or anything. She was, in her own
way, a remarkable human being. And I still find to this day the thing
I find most unfair about it is she died when I was 20. So I never got
to know her as an adult. I came to art late. She never saw me draw.
I’ve been married for 20 years. She never met my wife. This stuff
is… All of these things are the costs that any illness, but
mental illness, can
extract on people, on human beings, on families. And it’s tough.
And it’s not fair.
The big reason to get involved in the film and do the graphic
novel is to help share her story. And to tell people, ‘yeah, there
are scary moments.’ I’d be lying if my mom didn’t scare
me at times. There were really terrifying things. The spaghetti
incident is one, you know. She basically lost it and went crazy for a
little while. And I don’t use that word lightly, but she scared the
crap out of me when I was about 11 years old. And started smashing
things and what have you. But that was a very small microcosm of what
her entire situation was. And honestly, when you go through this, it
gets less scary. So the first nervous breakdown, very
scary. You know, the first episodes that she had —
schizophrenic episodes —
was very scary. The fifth, the sixth, less scary. It just is.
You get more experienced with it. And at the same time, I think the
lucky thing for me as a kid, I was getting older. So it got easier.
Sue Smith: It’s just a really compelling story, Von. And you
tell it in a wonderful way here in person, but also in the film.
Thank you so much for coming in.
Von Allan: You’re very welcome.
Sue Smith: My guest is Von Allan. He’s one of three people
featured in the documentary “I Am Still Your Child.” There’s a
free screening of the film tonight. It’s at Oscar Peterson Concert
Hall at 7 o’clock. That’s at Concordia [University], at Loyola
[Campus]. There’s going to be a panel discussion with the cast and
crew. Our Loreen Pindera is leading that. And it’s online. It’s
part of our ‘Absolutely Quebec’ film series here of CBC
Montreal. And we will tweet out that link. It’s really
excellent.