Two lights on disability

SUSAN J. KATZ

David Roche and Elly Litvak are two performers with a difference. On Nov. 30, they will share their transformational journeys from potential lives of despair to full and inspired lives. They will both be performing in Connections: Shining a Light on Disabilities at the Norman Rothstein Theatre and they will show, with humor and drama, how our greatest fears are only beliefs, and that our beliefs can be changed.

To look at them, you would not see what they have in common – Roche was born with a large benign facial tumor that, along with uninformed treatments he received as a child, seriously disfigured one side of his face and Litvak's softly serious comedy is the only evidence that she has travelled a long way in her recovery from her mental illness. But each has been recovering from the inside out, and finding fulfilment in sharing their experiences with those of us on whom such paths have not been forced.

Roche's first time on stage was in 1991. In his rabidly humoresque way, during an interview, he said, "At first I didn't know why: the stage, sex, money and fame...." Then, he added, "But the stage stuck with me and I began to feel a moral and social responsibility, as one with a facial difference who has a stage presence, humor, inspirational moments to share, and as a role model. And I need inspiration!"

Roche said he has "extensive coping mechanisms and was brought up mostly normal" by his caring parents. His visible difference first became apparent to him as a social barrier in an episode he recounts in his book The Church of 80% Sincerity. At his first spin-the-bottle party in seventh grade, the girl that he was supposed to kiss in the closet instead curled her lip and said, "Oh, yuck. Not you." And reached down and spun the bottle again. His resiliency from his upbringing allowed his mind to say, "Christine, I know you want me," but the actual words weren't articulated until 25 years later. Roche calls this "the principle of delayed understanding." He explained, "It takes time to let down our past barriers to understanding and that allows us an entry to grace."

Roche said there is a spiritual aspect to his work, something that makes his performance before the Jewish community important to him. He also said he has the satisfaction of knowing he is a valued member of the community at large, through his commitment and recognition as a performer and author.

"I am more and more myself; after not talking about myself for years, to being on stage," said Roche, who also runs workshops (www.davidroche.com).

The underlying message of all Roche's work is the necessity of unconditional love in our lives. He said he did not see his father's love until his father was near death, when his dad whispered to him, "I love you and bless you." Then Roche began to recognize that all those little things his father had done as he grew up, such as teaching him about sports, were those unspoken acts of unconditional love that supported him on his journey into adulthood and the recognition of himself as a valued person.

In a similarly positive progression, Litvak's one-woman show is about how a life that started all wrong can go so right. Her story is the counterpoint to the song "Teach Your Children Well." Her beautiful and brainy child-self is assaulted and her resistance against the onslaught of negative conditioning causes her to become a confused and mentally ill adolescent and young adult.

In acting in her show, Now Who's Crazy Now?, Litvak finds her resilience, and the audience realizes they have theirs, too. Litvak takes the audience through her complicated childhood, leading to the emergence of outrageous behaviors. In an interview, she recounted the story of how she ran naked through the Toronto winter streets singing at the top of her lungs, earning her many trips to the hospital psychiatric ward. In her ecstatic mood, she said, she thought the summoned ambulances were limousines picking her up for a celebrity appearance. But something inside her told her that she was not permanently, irredeemably mentally ill.

"Society thought I had a problem, but I didn't think so," she said. She resisted the heavy medications prescribed to control her behaviors because of their side effects and expense. She would go off them cold turkey, she said, "lose it all and be back in hospital," a common problem with mental health patients.

Livak's "ah-ha moment," the understanding that maybe there was something better, came when she followed her convictions that she was not mentally ill and shopped around, setting up interviews for her own psychologist. She said her new therapist informed her, "You know you can control your episodes." She said that was a revelation: she was responsible, not the doctors, for her hospital stays.

Litvak began to take control, and developed a regimen that she still maintains, of education, yoga and self-management of symptoms to stay centred. "I finally decided to gradually wean myself off, rather than rebel against, doctors and meds. Recovery processes are different for everyone; it takes time. We want it fixed yesterday, but you can't go back," she said.

Litvak became involved in theatre to help her with her recovery and now she performs for the general public and for health-care professionals to raise awareness about mental illness and what one person's recovery looks like.

Litvak has a new deep-breathing CD and, she said, "It is the cheapest and easiest way to deal with anxiety: just breathe!" She has worked in a variety of mental health settings and also has a counselling and workshop enterprise (www.whoscrazynow.com). She just returned from New York, where she performed at the conference of the Eastside Institute of Social and Group Therapy, of which she is a member.

Connections is presented by the Jewish Family Service Agency, the Disability Action Group and the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver at the JCCGV Nov. 30, 7 p.m. Call 604-257-5111.

Susan J. Katz is a Vancouver freelance writer.

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