Tomorrow, October 10, is World Mental Health Day. The initiative, sponsored by the World Health Organization, encourages folks to take “40 seconds of action” to raise awareness, confront stigmas, and make connections.
Here’s my contribution: “Not Waving but Drowning” by the British writer Stevie Smith takes about 40 seconds to read.
Smith’s work is known for seeming accessible, sometimes almost child-like. In this, perhaps her most famous poem, we begin with what seems a simple, though tragic, scene: a dead man who wasn’t heard when he cried for help. Ostensibly, he has had a drowning accident. Indeed, in the middle stanza, “they” give all sorts of reasons (perhaps even excuses) for the dead man’s state–he liked to joke around, the “too cold” sea overwhelmed him.
Obviously, “they” imply, no one’s fault that he wasn’t saved.
But it’s not the coldness of the sea. In both the last 2 lines of the 1st stanza and then more emphatically in the final stanza, the dead man tells us that through his whole life he has felt adrift and alienated–the environment around him “too cold always.” No one hears him, and no one listens. Worse, his very cry for help is misread as waving.
I think of this poem often: who will I encounter today whose “larking” hides a deep void, an inner freezing? Who is drifting “too far out”? Who is feeling overwhelmed by the waves? How can I make sure that I pay attention, so that the wish for help doesn’t get misinterpreted as a wave?
It’s terribly difficult–and I know I’m no lifeguard. But if nothing else, I know I need to be intentional in making sure that the people important to me–whether as colleagues or students, friends or family–understand that they never swim alone.
Not Waving but Drowning
–Stevie Smith
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
