And we’re grateful for all of you in the MIA community! Many thanks.
Thank you so much!
Thank you, Sam — and I’m sure you’re not! It’s a big brood on Mad in America, and every single one of us has a perspective and a voice.
Maria, thank you so much for reading my nutball memoir — and more, importantly, sharing some of your own story. Thank you, too, for sharing Desiderata, which I’ve always loved but haven’t read in some time and can always use as a boost and a check. Its message is as simple as it is profound: “Be gentle with yourself.” Amen.
Thank you, J. I absolutely agree that it’s important to make room, on MIA and elsewhere, for family members’ experiences. I appreciate Steve’s clarification that not all “mad” folks have abusive families, and I’d go further to add that many loved ones would say the same. My own childhood family, for instance, was wonderfully loving and the opposite of abusive, even in the midst of extraordinary shared struggles and profound individual pain. While my parents and sister are not around to confirm their perspectives on this, I’m sure they would agree. But again, everyone has a story. Some people aren’t as fortunate in their upbringings and family relations. And this is why Mad in America is such a significant gathering place for so many.
Yes, these are examples of her “mirror writing” artworks, so they’re meant to be backwards.
Thank you! And regarding the mind- and mood-altering nature of parenthood, I love your observation: “You could say it is like learning French for nine months in order to welcome a house guest.”
As I’ve often remarked to friends, having a kid feels like “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” Becoming a parent changes everything. There’s no going back to your previous frame of mind; how you see and relate to the world is permanently altered. Not just at your child’s birth. Forever. Or, to use your analogy: You never stop speaking French.
But I think the fascinating and important piece of Anne Peretz’ work is acknowledging that even so — especially so — parents are still carrying the weight of their own stories and trauma. Understanding our own narratives can only help us with our children moving forward.
Thanks! And yes, certainly there are lots of activities and elements of living that benefit well-being but I didn’t include. The list goes on. That’s one reason I included that little “not meant to be exhaustive” disclaimer. I realized, in the thick of working on this, that if I didn’t limit the scope of it, the story would go on more or less forever.
Well, hopefully a few steps can be made — and a few minds can be changed. I realize that any and all progress is agonizingly slow, but forward, forward.
Thanks so much for the mindful & meaningful comment, Kevin — and so sorry for all that you’ve been through. I’ve always been extremely skeptical of any metric purporting to test intelligence — and any effort to categorize people based on the results.
Thank *you,* Rebel.
It’s also the name of the main building.
Wow wow wow.Thank you for sharing this, DW. As Grrace just stated: beautiful piece.
“. . . inadvertently gave me parts of themselves for me to heal” — now *that’s* putting it beautifully.
Thank you for reading it, Stevie! And yes, jazz — Hot Club swing especially — has been a particular passion for me in recent years. There’s something about being “in the pocket” that’s unlike anything else in music. And the blues, so simple and yet so. . . everything.
Thanks again, Alex. Blessings back!
Thank you, Alex! Music plays a similar role in my own life, having carried me through some of my most difficult chapters of grief. As the piano is to you, the violin is to me, and a day without playing it feels empty and unfinished. I love how it takes my mind off of absolutely everything and connects me with something deeper, wider, greater. It’s hard (impossible) to articulate in words, but I keep trying!
As it happens, I’m touching on some of that in my third story in the music series, to run Feb. 14.
Miranda, that’s absolutely perfect! In my own life, music has carried me through all the toughest days and years — and I can’t imagine making it through this pandemic without it.
Cabrogal, I reached out independently to participants — mostly via their Instagram accounts. Those who chose to speak with me responded. No interviews were arranged by the studio, and no one was forced into speaking with me. Reddy and Reddy alone gave me his account of the week. And for the record: I did, in fact, quote Brandonn Mixon complaining about his depiction on the show and saying he regarded its shooting as “staged.” To be sure, I also quoted plenty of others saying it wasn’t staged, but with all of them I was only conveying to the reader exactly what was said to me.
Again, I understand your skepticism. But again, you’ll see that I address that skepticism directly, talking about the nature of reality-shows and the urge, even the need, to question them.
Thanks so much, Sandra. I agree. I think the everyday compassion at play, and the way it promotes kindness and connection regardless of differences, is indeed the show’s most powerful message. When my son first suggested we watch it together I hadn’t expected that — and I certainly didn’t expect to be expelling all that saline!
Hello, Cabrogal – thanks for your comment. For what it’s worth, I completely understand the need to question a “happy ending’ story arc on movies or television, particularly when it comes to portraying people’s deeply complex humanity and individual pain. This is why I addressed up front my own skeptical questioning of tidy narratives conveying triumph & transformation. It’s also why I set out to interview the “Queer Eye” participants themselves — and I labored to convey what they had to say with accuracy and sensitivity.
And just to be clear: The production didn’t swoop in on them until they’d given their consent. As I went on to explain in the story, the timing of the stars’ arrival was engineered to catch participants off-guard — but they had already agreed to be on the show.
Kindred Spirit, I understand your skepticism, but Neal Reddy was very clear to me about his experience on “Queer Eye.” I spoke with him at length about his week, and he was candid in describing both his reluctance at the start of the show and all the positive change it had inspired in him by the end. He repeatedly emphasized the fact that he had never discussed his experience with depression pre-“Queer Eye” — and had never gone to therapy, either. He felt more at ease in expressing emotion as well.
Hi, Sam. As I described in the story, Karamo Brown is a licensed social worker & psychotherapist, although I don’t believe he’s working as such right now. The others all have businesses in their fields. And of course everyone’s arc of grief and recovery is different, but most of the folks I interviewed seemed to feel that their time on the show helped.
And we’re grateful for all of you in the MIA community! Many thanks.
Thank you so much!
Thank you, Sam — and I’m sure you’re not! It’s a big brood on Mad in America, and every single one of us has a perspective and a voice.
Maria, thank you so much for reading my nutball memoir — and more, importantly, sharing some of your own story. Thank you, too, for sharing Desiderata, which I’ve always loved but haven’t read in some time and can always use as a boost and a check. Its message is as simple as it is profound: “Be gentle with yourself.” Amen.
Thank you, J. I absolutely agree that it’s important to make room, on MIA and elsewhere, for family members’ experiences. I appreciate Steve’s clarification that not all “mad” folks have abusive families, and I’d go further to add that many loved ones would say the same. My own childhood family, for instance, was wonderfully loving and the opposite of abusive, even in the midst of extraordinary shared struggles and profound individual pain. While my parents and sister are not around to confirm their perspectives on this, I’m sure they would agree. But again, everyone has a story. Some people aren’t as fortunate in their upbringings and family relations. And this is why Mad in America is such a significant gathering place for so many.
Yes, these are examples of her “mirror writing” artworks, so they’re meant to be backwards.
Thank you! And regarding the mind- and mood-altering nature of parenthood, I love your observation: “You could say it is like learning French for nine months in order to welcome a house guest.”
As I’ve often remarked to friends, having a kid feels like “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.” Becoming a parent changes everything. There’s no going back to your previous frame of mind; how you see and relate to the world is permanently altered. Not just at your child’s birth. Forever. Or, to use your analogy: You never stop speaking French.
But I think the fascinating and important piece of Anne Peretz’ work is acknowledging that even so — especially so — parents are still carrying the weight of their own stories and trauma. Understanding our own narratives can only help us with our children moving forward.
Thanks! And yes, certainly there are lots of activities and elements of living that benefit well-being but I didn’t include. The list goes on. That’s one reason I included that little “not meant to be exhaustive” disclaimer. I realized, in the thick of working on this, that if I didn’t limit the scope of it, the story would go on more or less forever.
Well, hopefully a few steps can be made — and a few minds can be changed. I realize that any and all progress is agonizingly slow, but forward, forward.
Thanks so much for the mindful & meaningful comment, Kevin — and so sorry for all that you’ve been through. I’ve always been extremely skeptical of any metric purporting to test intelligence — and any effort to categorize people based on the results.
Thank *you,* Rebel.
It’s also the name of the main building.
Wow wow wow.Thank you for sharing this, DW. As Grrace just stated: beautiful piece.
“. . . inadvertently gave me parts of themselves for me to heal” — now *that’s* putting it beautifully.
Thank you for reading it, Stevie! And yes, jazz — Hot Club swing especially — has been a particular passion for me in recent years. There’s something about being “in the pocket” that’s unlike anything else in music. And the blues, so simple and yet so. . . everything.
Thanks again, Alex. Blessings back!
Thank you, Alex! Music plays a similar role in my own life, having carried me through some of my most difficult chapters of grief. As the piano is to you, the violin is to me, and a day without playing it feels empty and unfinished. I love how it takes my mind off of absolutely everything and connects me with something deeper, wider, greater. It’s hard (impossible) to articulate in words, but I keep trying!
As it happens, I’m touching on some of that in my third story in the music series, to run Feb. 14.
Miranda, that’s absolutely perfect! In my own life, music has carried me through all the toughest days and years — and I can’t imagine making it through this pandemic without it.
Cabrogal, I reached out independently to participants — mostly via their Instagram accounts. Those who chose to speak with me responded. No interviews were arranged by the studio, and no one was forced into speaking with me. Reddy and Reddy alone gave me his account of the week. And for the record: I did, in fact, quote Brandonn Mixon complaining about his depiction on the show and saying he regarded its shooting as “staged.” To be sure, I also quoted plenty of others saying it wasn’t staged, but with all of them I was only conveying to the reader exactly what was said to me.
Again, I understand your skepticism. But again, you’ll see that I address that skepticism directly, talking about the nature of reality-shows and the urge, even the need, to question them.
Thanks so much, Sandra. I agree. I think the everyday compassion at play, and the way it promotes kindness and connection regardless of differences, is indeed the show’s most powerful message. When my son first suggested we watch it together I hadn’t expected that — and I certainly didn’t expect to be expelling all that saline!
Hello, Cabrogal – thanks for your comment. For what it’s worth, I completely understand the need to question a “happy ending’ story arc on movies or television, particularly when it comes to portraying people’s deeply complex humanity and individual pain. This is why I addressed up front my own skeptical questioning of tidy narratives conveying triumph & transformation. It’s also why I set out to interview the “Queer Eye” participants themselves — and I labored to convey what they had to say with accuracy and sensitivity.
And just to be clear: The production didn’t swoop in on them until they’d given their consent. As I went on to explain in the story, the timing of the stars’ arrival was engineered to catch participants off-guard — but they had already agreed to be on the show.
Kindred Spirit, I understand your skepticism, but Neal Reddy was very clear to me about his experience on “Queer Eye.” I spoke with him at length about his week, and he was candid in describing both his reluctance at the start of the show and all the positive change it had inspired in him by the end. He repeatedly emphasized the fact that he had never discussed his experience with depression pre-“Queer Eye” — and had never gone to therapy, either. He felt more at ease in expressing emotion as well.
Hi, Sam. As I described in the story, Karamo Brown is a licensed social worker & psychotherapist, although I don’t believe he’s working as such right now. The others all have businesses in their fields. And of course everyone’s arc of grief and recovery is different, but most of the folks I interviewed seemed to feel that their time on the show helped.