I lug the book Far from the Tree, all 962 pages of it, around with me to family meetings and client sites at children’s hospitals and disability organizations. It is a meticulously researched and beautifully crafted book on parenting, and more importantly, on love and acceptance. Andrew Solomon has written a masterpiece. This book has moved me so much that I titled my essay that I wrote for the New York Times Far from My Tree. (It is a piece written about my punk rock son, inspired by Solomon’s work). Solomon has helped me dig deep about parenting all three of my children, who are different from me in their own unique ways. It made me ask: did I really have children to create versions of Mini-Me? Or was it my job to unconditionally love, support and accept them to be full versions of their fine selves?
I’ve been scrounging around to find a way to bring the Far from the Tree Documentary to Vancouver. GREAT NEWS. It has been released on Netflix Canada. If you love or work with someone with a disability, please take 90 minutes of your time and settle in and watch this exquisitely crafted film by Rachel Dretzin.
Solomon has broken the fourth wall to tell his story as an author and what writing a book about parents, children and the search for identity meant to him.
Writing this book set me free. It broke me out of the narrative from my childhood. -Andrew Solomon
His parallel story as a gay man is gently presented along with stories from Jason, Jack, Trevor, Loini, Leah and Joe. Jason is 41 and has Down syndrome, like my 15 year old son. I watched the segments with Jason closely. He’s the son of Emily Perl Kingsley, who famously wrote the essay Welcome to Holland. (Anyone who has a child with a disability has been gifted this essay by well-meaning friends). Jason speaks many truths.
Here in reality, everyone is different. -Jason Perl Kingsley
Jason is right, of course. We are all different but us typically-developing people are terrified of difference and shun this reality. Far from the Tree examines this paradox with little commentary and judgment. The stories are strong and stand on their own.
I especially loved the film for the space it gave to the people with disabilities to do the talking. Us parents normally take up a lot of airtime, when we should be making room for our loved ones to speak in any way that they can. I’m learning this lesson slowly as my son gets older. His story is different than my story. He lives with disability. I do not.
Joe is a philosophy professor, has dwarfism and is eloquent with his words. “What body you are in has everything to do with your perspective in the world,” he says. “It surprises people when I indicate that I’m not suffering.”
Far from the Tree offers up a lot to think about. As Joe points out, physicians see normality as the end goal. But why is that? To what lengths do we chase the normal?
The dad of Jack, a young man who is autistic and non-verbal, tearfully says about his son, “He’s abnormal in a really good way.” Far from the Tree rightly challenges the concept of normal and offers up the question: what makes us human?
I’ve always thought the disability community and its allies could learn much from the LGBTQ2S world. As Solomon asks, drawing a comparison between the two worlds: Is defectiveness a matter of perspective? How does illness become a celebrated identity instead?
How do we decide what to cure and what to celebrate? -Andrew Solomon
I wept at the tenderness of this film: the scene of Jason at the museum with his mom, the image of him sitting on his back deck with his two roommates. Andrew Solomon walking arm in arm with his father, Trevor’s family gathered around the video screen to talk to their incarcerated son. Loini meeting people like her for the first time at the Little People’s convention, Leah and Joe dancing quietly together on a rooftop.
I thought about my own instinct to protect my son to the point of overprotectiveness. I thought about all the therapy we subjected him to in his early years. I thought about how hard he tries to fit into the regular world, and what joy he finds with other people with Down syndrome. I thought about fixing and curing vs. love and belonging.
Far from the Tree, the book, and now the movie, has made me think about all this in a good yet hard way. I thought about my son and how, as the movie says, he has his own mountains to climb, which aren’t my mountains – they are his mountains. I thought about how I can support him to do that. I thought about how it is also my job as his mother to set him free.
What am I looking for from any book or a movie? I want to be surprised or validated. Far from the Tree magically does both. Through stories, it asks many questions that only you can dig deep and answer for yourself. That’s what good art is all about: to see another way of reality that is not your own and to help you question what you think you already know. Far from the Tree is poignant storytelling at its best. It touches hearts to change minds.