Mary Jane's Mirror

It is said that good stories either reflect your reality or surprise you with something new. The theatre play Mary Jane, written by Amy Herzog, shares the hidden world of moms whose children are disabled.

I, too, have written about both being a mom of a disabled child and my time in pediatric health care (along with an examination of my health care experience when I had cancer) in my first book called Bird’s Eye View: stories of a life lived in health care.  

This is not a review of Mary Jane, as I’m not a theatre critic. It is a commentary from me as a mom. My son Aaron spent time as an inpatient and outpatient in children’s hospitals when he was younger and I have the privilege of knowing many moms who would be considered ‘medical moms.’ Without fail, these women are extraordinary mama bears. They would stop a freakin' bus with their bare hands for their children. One thing the general public doesn't understand about us is how deeply we love our children.

Mary Jane opened with a a conversation about cancer between the title character Mary Jane and her building’s superintendent. I’ve always wondered if cancer rates were higher in the caregiver world because of all the stress associated with fighting and advocacy we have to do for our children’s entire lives. 

“Your trauma is written in the cells of your body," said the super. I got the chills at this line, and buckled in for a long ride.

Watching Mary Jane felt like I was looking in a brightly lit mirror, like one of those mirrors in hotel bathrooms that show off every wrinkle, spot and stray hair.

I’m not gonna lie – this was a hard play for me. It lifted the bandage off of wounds that I covered up a long ago. I am wound so tight that I rarely cry, but tears appeared often in that dark theatre and accelerated in a scene when a music therapist was tenderly singing to Mary Jane’s little boy Alex.

Here are the things I saw in the mirror of this play from my own life, and from the lives of moms I know in our community:

• The financial strain that comes with having a sick child (yes even here in Canada).

• Both the lack of privacy and the love given by home care nurses, and the effects on a mom when a night nurse cancels their shift.

• Moms changing their careers because the world is unfriendly to caregiver workplaces and then losing their job because of caregiving (this happened to me).

• The bone-aching loneliness of not having a supportive family or community, and having your only friends being paid staff members.

• Being fearful of being put on a blacklist if you aren’t exceedingly pleasant to all the health professionals in your life. As Mary Jane says, if you don’t behave, it is like ‘the big x that comes up when you get a strike.’ 

• The caregiver’s tendencies to looking after everyone, except themselves.

• Scaring off younger moms by mistake with tales of having an older child.

• Being incessantly called ‘Mom’ by everybody in the hospital.

• The calmness that comes over you in an emergency.

• In the hospital scenes there were many glimmers of reality: techs who wake you up at 6 am, having an uncomfortable pull-out chair to sleep on, being envious of families who get private rooms and actual cots, and eating cold cereal out of a box for meals (as the hospital doesn’t offer meals to families).

• The camaraderie with other moms, and the eagerness to support each other with resources, advice and information.

• Finally being able to let go and show emotions - good and bad - with people who are safe – those who do not directly provide medical care for your child, like music therapists and spiritual care staff.

“You never know what everybody knows.”

The program featured a picture of a goldfish, and I realized that the goldfish bowl referred to what happens when you have a sick and/or disabled child. Suddenly your private life becomes public and strangers know the intimate details of your life, while you know next to nothing about them. That power differential is stark.

I’m guessing that the play is specifically named after the title character because Mary Jane is called ‘Mom’ throughout the play.  She’s not offered the dignity of people learning her name. This is a symbol of being dehumanized by a system that does not see caregivers.

During the play, I thought,“The playwright must have had lived experience as a medical mom."  A Google search after confirmed that Amy Herzog’s own daughter Frances had a rare muscular disorder called nemaline myopathy. Frances died when she was 11years old. This is not the type of a play that is written from someone's imagination. It is too real. Mary Jane's wisdom can only come from living this life.

This play would be difficult to market.  Who wants to see a play about caregiving? Believe me, when I write about disability and being a mom on social media, I garner very little interest. Despite that, many of Mary Jane’s shows were sold out.

This is a testament to the exquisite acting from the all-female cast: Kate Craven as Mary Jane, Crystal Balint, Jennifer Clement, Sewit Eden Haile, and Advah Soudack, along with director Aaron Craven. The delicate and stark subject matter was handled firmly and honestly by both the actors and production folks. This play does not hold back.

Mary Jane was produced by Mitchell and Murray Productions at Studio 16 in Vancouver. The Vancouver shows are over now, but please watch for Mary Jane to be offered in your city. (Even better, support your own production of Mary Jane).  It is well-known and had a Broadway run that featured actors like Carrie Coon and Rachel McAdams in the title role.

Here is my take-away.

I was lucky enough to attend Mary Jane with a health care team of nurses, social workers, family support staff and physicians who work at BC Children’s Hospital and Canuck Place, which is our pediatric hospice centre.

Clinicians and families going to see a play together on a Sunday?  And then going out to a bakery for tea and kouign-amann afterwards to talk about the play? Yes yes, more of this human connection please. (A special thank you to Cynthia Vallance and Dr. Esther Lee for including me).

If you are a health professional, here's what I want you to do: look for opportunities to experience art with patients and families. This can look like going to a play, movie or art gallery together, starting up a book club, or co-participating in reflective practice with art or music.

In this messed up beautiful world, we need humanity in health care more than ever.

Humanity is only strengthened when we take the time to see another person’s point of view…and honour our own reflections, no matter how painful they may be.

Thank you Amy Herzog and Mitchell and Murray Productions talented cast and crew for sharing Mary Jane with us.

Me at the Children's Hospital the last time Aaron was hospitalized.