Dear Hollywood: Please Leave Your Sunglasses at Home

I don't usually cry that often. Rarely for people I've never met. Last night, and again this morning, I cried for Robin Williams. 

Aladdin, Mrs. Doubtfire, Good Will Hunting, The Birdcage, Awakenings, even Happy Feet - his ability to tell stories is unmatched. 

But his character in Dead Poets Society, John Keating, changed my life. He spoke to me in ways for which words are insufficient. Into my small town world of conformity and limited possibility as a teenager, came this remarkable teacher who taught his students that their passions mattered, that their dreams mattered, that they had the ability to love and be loved. Keating had courage, he had a joie de vivre that inspired a bunch of 1950s teenage boys to sneak out of their dorms in the middle of the night to read poetry, of all things. 

He's probably at least 60% of the reason I was an English major. 

Keating told his students, "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race, and the human race is filled with passion. Medicine, law, business, engineering - these are all noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love - these are what we stay alive for." 

In the end, like the powers of conformity beat John Keating down, and got him fired from his job as a teacher, so too did the powers of depression beat down an incredible man, an incredible story teller, a man who knew the full expanse - height and depth, breadth and width - of the human soul. 

And so I cry. 

I have a suggestion to make for his friends in Hollywood. Usually they wear sunglasses to a funeral to hide their tears, to hide their puffy, red eyes, so that their image can remain unscathed. But for Robin, in recognition of his depression, I think the world should see sadness. I think we should see what crying looks like. I think we should see what pain looks like. I don't think we should hide it. I think we should feel it, and know how sad we are to lose such a man in this way. 

I know there's a difference between clinical depression and sadness. But part of the stigma around depression is that we have some kind of fake understanding of reality, that sadness is something to avoid. But sadness, grief, loss, it's all part of the human experience. It's not something to fear, and it's not something to hide. If we try to avoid it, that only makes the stigma of depression worse.  

So Hollywood - leave the sunglasses at home. Let the world see you cry. Don't be ashamed of your humanity. Embrace it. For Robin. 

Rest in peace Mr. Williams. For your incredible life - your passion, your humor, your sensitivity, your wisdom - thank you. You will always be my Captain. 

I'm going to get a Kleenex now. 

What if Israelis and Palestinians Followed the Golden Rule?

When you were a child, did anyone tell you to, “treat others the way you want to be treated”? I heard it. Of course, I interpreted this by thinking that if someone is treating me the way they want to be treated and they’re being mean, they must want me to be mean back to them. Right? It took me a while to get over myself about that. 

What is it about adulthood that we forget the most basic things we learned in our earliest years? 

I’ll never forget that on the night of the Columbine tragedy, President Clinton came on TV and told us that we’ve got to teach out children how to solve problems with other means than through violence. At the exact same time, American planes were dropping bombs on Kosovo. 

Now as adults, we can rationalize this, and talk about whether or not the use of force in that instance actually helped protect life. There are all kinds of complicating factors and exceptions, and it could be argued that that act of violence did prevent a greater evil. But the bottom line is that our nation was using violence to solve a problem. How can we expect kids to see that and conclude that they should never use violence to solve their problems? 

From Afghanistan to Iraq, there is sufficient evidence to at least raise the question - was it worth it? Was the fighting we did there worth the cost? Did the violence we inflicted, or the violence we suffered, actually solve anything or bring about more justice and mercy? With the rise of Isis and the return of the Taliban, I think there’s at least something to talk about. 

My heart breaks for what’s happening in Israel/Palestine right now. It’s very difficult to know what’s really going on with a lack of objective information available in our media, but whether your sympathies lie with the Israelis or Palestinians, everyone is losing right now. From the Israeli Defense Force invading Gaza, killing civilians, even children, to the Hamas rockets - no one is winning anything here. No one is gaining security. No one is gaining stability. No one is gaining freedom. Everyone is suffering. The extreme violence unleashed there is making everyone suffer. It’s not fair and it’s not going to solve anything. Neither side is treating the other the way they want to be treated. 

Paraphrasing President Jimmy Carter, we will never resolve our differences by killing each other’s children. He’s right. We’ve got to put down the guns. We’ve got to be more courageous. We’ve got to be more compassionate. We’ve got to remember the lessons of our childhood innocence, and maybe then, we can reach an adult maturity.