All we have to do is be ourselves

I would like to send this message out to all my Me2/Orchestra friends. Thank you for last week’s rehearsal. I had been having a rocky couple of days. I didn’t feel like going to rehearsal. When I left my apartment I began to think up an excuse to give you all, explaining that I had been having some difficult days and so on. Then I realized that I don’t have to make any excuses with this group. That in itself made me feel a lot better. When I walked into the rehearsal room I felt so much love and talent and acceptance, all my woes and uncertainty went up-up-and-away! (And by the way, I thought we had an excellent rehearsal. We got through a lot of difficult music in preparation for the film crew from Al Jazeera to visit us tomorrow.)

Ronald Braunstein

When Caroline and I thought up the idea for Me2/Orchestra, all I could think of was that I wanted to work with people like me. I wanted it to be pure and free of meanness and stigma. Caroline took the idea from there and developed an entire organization with two orchestras and countless friendships of darling people that come together every week to share time in the context of our orchestra. But this is more than an orchestra. I know the term is over-used but we are not just like a family. We really are a family. At least that’s how it feels to me.

All we have to do is be ourselves. I’ve always worried about choosing repertoire, finding the right musicians, etc. I never dreamed for an instant that I would end up in such a wonderful orchestra full of kind and lovely people.

Thank you, Me2/Orchestra.

–Ronnie

If you don’t think you know someone with a serious mental illness, you’re wrong.

Last night Ronald Braunstein and I had the opportunity to speak to a group of students at the University of Vermont. It was a casual gathering in one of the dorm buildings, so we kicked back and enjoyed nearly an hour of explaining how Me2/Orchestra got started, how we serve the mental health community, and telling stories about our performances in correctional facilities. It was a fun evening with a great group of curious and intelligent young minds.

At one point I told the group that they all know someone with a “serious” mental illness – if not a close family member or friend, maybe someone else that they come in contact with on a regular basis. Maybe it’s one of the helpful librarians on campus, the waitress at their favorite restaurant downtown, or their career counselor. We don’t know who is living with bipolar disorder, depression, OCD, or schizophrenia, even though we interact with people who have these diagnoses every single day. Mental illness looks different in each person it affects, and it isn’t something we can obviously SEE when we meet someone.

I thought about this point today when I ran across an article in The Guardian, titled “Forget the headlines – schizophrenia is more common than you might think.” It’s great reading for anyone interested in the broad criteria under which schizophrenia and other mental illnesses are diagnosed.

Ronnie and I are grateful to our hosts at UVM last night. If you have a group that would be interested in learning more about Me2/, please don’t hesitate to let us know!

Creating a new community

Last weekend Ronald Braunstein (Me2/Orchestra Music Director) and I attended a recital at the University of Vermont. We arrived early and sat in the middle of a row by ourselves. Before we knew it, we were flanked by four members of Me2/Orchestra — two on each side of us. I looked at Ronald and made a comment about how nice it was to be unexpectedly surrounded by members of the orchestra.

The following day we attended a cello master class, and the same thing happened! We sat down by ourselves and within minutes there were Me2/Orchestra members sitting on our left side, right side, and directly behind us. We smiled at each other and Ronald said, “We’re surrounded again!” It was a fabulous feeling.

At the end of the master class, I was standing with one of the Me2/Orchestra members when a mutual friend walked up. She asked this orchestra member, “What are you doing these days?” and he responded, “Well, I’m playing with Me2/, and enjoying being a part of that community.”

I’m enjoying being a part of that community.

Those were the sweetest words I’ve heard in quite some time. That was when I realized that Me2/ truly has formed a new community. Not only do we see each other at rehearsals on Wednesday nights, but we’re gathering at performances, coffeehouses, and seeing each other all over town. New friendships have formed throughout the orchestra.

Speaking for myself, whenever I see a member of Me2/Orchestra I feel a type of comfort and reassurance that has previously been absent from my life. All of us, no matter what our daily struggles, need to know that we have friends out there. I’m grateful for the 25 new friends I have in Me2/Orchestra. It’s a pleasure to be a part of this new community.

Caroline Whiddon
Executive Director

What does music look like?

I have an interesting relationship with my cello. Compared to many musicians my age, I often feel like a “late bloomer”. Although there is some video evidence to suggest I encountered a live cellist at the age of 3, I was not reintroduced to the concept until the winter of my 4th grade year. Just after turning 10, my father took me to the violin shop and began paying the rent on my first cello—an instrument I chose for a handful of illogical reasons: fewer kids chose the cello than the violin, it was still small enough to squeeze onto the bus, and it had a cool “mustache”. There was no reason to assume on that first day that I would stick with the cello for as long as I have, and neither my parents nor I had any inkling of the places music would take me.

After we left the violin shop with my first cello, my father bought me a CD: Yo Yo Ma’s Appalachia Waltz. It was the first time that I truly appreciated instrumental music, and I was excited at the prospect of playing like that someday. I was also daunted. It was the first of many days and experiences I would share with my cello as music performance became an established and routine part of my education and childhood.

My cello grew up with me. I have taken it on numerous bus rides, I’ve danced with it, I’ve taken naps with it, I’ve played it in many chamber groups and orchestras, I’ve stuffed it into the backseat of the car more times than I can count. I’ve knocked it over, I’ve tripped on the endpin, I’ve fallen asleep sitting with my cheek against its shoulder, I’ve snapped strings, I’ve taken it to college. My cello and I have played auditions together, worked on pieces together, made recordings, and made mistakes. My cello puts up with all of my antics and doesn’t take offense when I chuck my bow against the wall in frustration. We’ve endured the laziest practice sessions and the most tedious. If my room is cold I wrap my cello in a blanket overnight. Sometimes we watch TV together.

And for all that I’ve put onto my poor, patient instrument, it has taken me farther than I could have imagined 10 years ago. In fact, one year ago I couldn’t have guessed where I’d be right now. I met Ronald Braunstein in late August 2010 as a cellist in the Vermont Youth Orchestra. I was captivated and energized by his passion (and his quirkiness). The start of that concert season held an enormous amount of promise, and I had never before engaged in a better, more unifying and cohesive musical experience. When Ronald and Caroline—a one-woman motivational act and pillar of my time with the VYOA—left the organization, it felt like the end of an era. And it was.

However, both of these remarkable and compassionate people faced a difficult, emotional, and daunting transition with a grace that ultimately produced the Me2/Orchestra. When Ronald and Caroline told me about their plan, I was both excited and curious. I was pleased at the prospect of working with them, and also intensely interested in where Me2/ would end up.

Nearly 6 months later, I cannot believe the growth of our orchestra and our community. And I would never have guessed that my musical path would lead me here. Me2/ has been a wonderful conglomeration of luck, optimism, circumstance, and good people. I feel lucky to be a part of the “tribe”. I am glad that out of the 4 evenings per week when I drag my cello out into the cold, jam it into the back of a car, roll it along gravel and ice, one of those evenings is spent with the Me2/Orchestra. Ronald’s musical spirit never dampens, and it inspires the music we make. Caroline’s optimism and drive give us direction. Each individual is compassionate, spirited, and committed.

Caroline’s most recent blog post posed the question: what does mental illness look like? It looks like the Me2/Orchestra, a community that embraces differences and promotes good health. We are all regular people, and we are all healthy in our pursuit of finding balance in our own lives. A mental “illness” isn’t a “sickness” or “unhealthy”, it is a struggle that every person experiences in some way—in his or her own life or in the lives of others. The musicians of the Me2/Orchestra—both those personally struggling and those impacted—are healthy, normal, talented people because they choose to create and participate in an environment where those values are promoted. You can’t glance across the room and point out which of us struggle with mental illness and which of us don’t. Fundamentally, we all struggle—to fight the stigma.

On a long list of experiences I never would have had without my cello, the Me2/Orchestra is one of the most remarkable. So many random circumstances brought me to it—that I happened be in the Vermont Youth Orchestra when Ronald arrived there, that I stayed in Vermont for college, that I even chose music in the first place. In 4th grade, playing the cello was about missing half of science class for my lesson and playing in the orchestra with the 5th graders. I picked it for arbitrary reasons—none of them even close to why I choose to stick with it now. For all of the places and circumstances in which I’ve taken my cello along with me, it has also taken me into a host of experiences like this one, affirming not only why music is so important to my life and my own mental health—but the ways in which it can make a difference for social change.

Patrick
Me2/Orchestra cellist

What does music look like? http://vimeo.com/2046250

What does mental illness look like?

Recently I received an email from a neighbor passing along some info from our condominium Board meeting. She ended the email by saying that she’d heard I was working with an orchestra that serves mentally ill people, and she praised me for “working with that population.” She said, “it must be a challenge.”

Ouch. That stung a little bit. I mean, really… “that population” and “it must be a challenge“? I decided this was a teachable moment. I responded by saying, “Yes, I am a co-founder of Me2/Orchestra and many of our members have mental health issues. I suppose it’s a role I’m comfortable with because I consider myself a member of ‘that population’, dealing with mental health issues myself.”

That should get the message across nicely, I thought. Now she’ll understand that mental health issues cover a broad range of symptoms and severity, so maybe she’ll re-think her comment about “that population” being “a challenge”. Instead, she responded with another message saying:

“Well, I’m quite surprised to hear this. I never thought of you as being someone with a mental illness.”

————————–

Could this person have a mental health issue?

Lots of people think they know mental illness when they see it, but it’s just not always that obvious. We live in a world where 1 in 5 people will experience mental illness during their lifetime. If you think your neighbors are immune because they have good jobs and nice clothes, then think again.

Anyone who visits a Me2/Orchestra rehearsal can experience this reality first-hand just by looking around the room. I guarantee they won’t be able to tell the difference between those with and without mental illnesses. What they will see is a room full of musicians modeling an ideal world where people acknowledge and accept each others’ differences with kindness, patience, and support. They will also hear some exceptional music, much of it written by composers who were tormented by mental health issues during their own lives.

Caroline Whiddon
Executive Director, Me2/Orchestra