In the preface to What Kind of Mother, Judith Sandler, daughter of Baltimore writer and historian Gilbert Sandler, writes, “By the time I was ten years old, I knew the family myth: We were a perfect family, consumed by what the neighbors and my father’s colleagues at the newspaper thought of us, ever mindful of the expectations for a family ‘like us.’”
What follows is a harrowing and frank account of her experiences raising a son, James, who developed substance abuse disorder early in his teen years and was later diagnosed with bipolar disorder. As a young man, James refuses medication and spirals deeper into his mental illness, leaving his parents desperate for solutions and uncertain what to do. It takes years for Sandler to admit that the deeply ingrained belief in the importance of a positive image and the family mantra of “just keep a-goin’” were causing more harm than good. And even when she lets go of the idea of perfection, she still must reckon with her role as a mother to an adult son who seems unwilling to help himself.
Through detailed vignettes drawn not only from her son’s life, but also from her own childhood, Sandler constructs a narrative that illustrates the heartbreaking work of raising a child and finding that you can’t fix his problems for him. As the title suggests, Sandler continuously questions her own actions as a mother, ultimately reaching some measure of peace when she realizes that her only option is to let James go.
Sandler, a native of Baltimore who now resides in Maine, spoke with us about the complicated process of writing the memoir.
Baltimore Fishbowl: In the preface, you say that the most difficult part of writing this book was giving yourself permission to tell the story. How did you ultimately allow yourself to write and publish the book?
Judith Sandler: I wrote most of the manuscript when I was in graduate school at Stonecoast at The University of Southern Maine. I wrote about what was going on around me at the time, and I was trying to make sense of my son’s episodes with mental illness. I was exhausted from glossing over the truth about my children. I felt I was being disrespectful of the very hard work my son was doing in recovery to lie and say, “My kids are great, how about yours?” People need to share stories. Stories connect us. When we tell the truth about our lives, everyone feels a little less lonely.
BFB: You mention Maggie Smith in the introduction. Are there other writers who inspired or influenced this book?
JS: I fell in love with the genre of flash nonfiction, which is writing in short, whip-like chapters. Other writers who are masters of flash nonfiction are Beth Anne Fennally (Heating and Cooling, An Irish Goodbye), Maggie Nelson (Bluets), and Rivka Galchen’s Little Labors.
Very early on, Anne Lamott was my hero because she was the first mother I had ever read who dared to tell the truth about motherhood in her book, Operating Instructions. I remember roaming the aisles of the Barnes and Noble on Reisterstown Road with James strapped to my chest, searching for a book that would mirror my experience. When I found Operating Instructions, I sat down right in that aisle and started to read it.
BFB: Do you think that living in Baltimore (Smalltimore) and having a family that was known to many people here made it more difficult to acknowledge James’s issues?
JS: I love Baltimore. It will always be home to me. My family’s roots in Baltimore are deep, and I grew up with a father who experienced local fame. As I described in the book, it was important to my father that we, my brother, sister, and I, “do the right thing.” The Baltimore I grew up in felt like a small town. I think it was a combination of living up to my father’s expectations of who we “should” be, and then the very real issue of raising children in the world of private schools in Baltimore.
BFB: What is something you hope other people with loved ones in similar situations will take away from your book?
JS: The takeaway from the book is surely not self-blame. I believe in the genetics of severe mental illness. Psychologists and doctors have explained to me that parenting has little to do with the onset of severe mental illness. However, in retrospect, I do think it’s important to let our children fail more. I didn’t do that with James, and I can’t help but think that when we allow our children to fail and experience the consequences, both parent and child see that they do recover, building resilience in both parent and child. Another lesson to take away from the book concerns the issue of boundaries. I needed to stop saving James before he and we realized he had to save himself.
BFB: How does staying silent about mental illness and substance abuse disorder perpetuate problems with treatment?
JS: At a recent book event, someone asked, “What is the best thing to say to someone who tells you a story like this?” I thought about that and decided the best thing to say would be to share your own story, because probably you have one—one in four people, remember? Empathy is the best way to stop perpetuating the stigma of mental illness. When we remain silent and draw lines in the sand around mental illness—think: “You but not me,” or say things like, “I would die if that happened to me,” we perpetuate the stigma and make it more difficult for families to share not only stories, but treatment paths.
BFB: How has James responded to the book?
JS: It has taken a long time for both James and me to learn the difference between his story and my story. Memoirists have very different opinions about permission when a story necessarily overlaps with family. Anne Lamott said, “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” And while I mostly agree with that, I think there is a lot to learn about the craft of writing and learning how to stay on your side of the story.
James has come to appreciate my efforts to tell my story and respects my desire to be honest about mental health issues.
Baltimore Launch
October 14 , 7 pm – Redeemer VOICES series, 5603 North Charles
