The Value of Darker Stories for Young People

By David Sklar

I woke up and my stomach hurt. I didn’t think too much of it since my dad would be taking me out for lunch that day. We went for burgers and fries and while my eyes were excited to scarf down the trio, my stomach had other intentions. 

I made it home just in time to send all my food back into the toilet. Oh well. It’s just a bug or flu and I would be back to normal in no time.

My best friend, Shawn, look at me, quizzically, during school lunch later that week, put down his sandwich and said, “David, what’s wrong with your eyes, they’re all yellow!”.

I rushed to the bathroom and there in the mirror I saw that not only were my eyes yellow, but my skin was turning yellow too.

After weeks in an out of the hospital, dozens of poking and prodding, the doctors finally revealed that my liver was failing-and failing fast. Out of the blue, from being a “normal” healthy kid to being forced to undergo biopsies and blood tests, I was overwhelmed. I was angry. I was scared. I was pissed off.

Within three weeks, a liver was found in Alberta and flown across the country to Montreal, where I grew up. After seven hours, the operation was a success and I slowly started on the road to recovery. Within five months, I was back at school, back with my friends, and way less yellow looking!

To all outward appearances, I was back to my old self. But there were so many emotions and feelings that I didn’t want to share with anyone. What would my life look like now that I was immune- compromised? What did it mean to have this organ that didn’t belong to me, inside of me? How would the rest of life be affected by this operation?

I’m sharing all of this because these were concerns I held onto as a child, teenager and young adult. I felt I had no one to share them with; I had no book references, movies or plays to highlight the journey I was on. I knew nobody who had undergone what I did and I felt alone.

That is what spurred me to right my play, The Revil. I had talked for years about writing my transplant story but it was only during the pandemic that I saw all sorts of parallels between my old world and the one we were all living in: Constant washing of hands, masking up wherever you go, uncertainty, stress and isolation. In a sense, my experience prepared me for Covid. I knew what to expect and I knew how to deal with all this uncertainty.

From of these experiences, I wanted to tell my story. But with a twist. I wanted it to come from children who were in the same spot I was in many years ago. I wanted it to come from their experience of feeling unseen by the adults around them. And I wanted their greatest fear to be present, quite literally, on the stage with them.

We love plays for kids that are fluffy, fun, and light, with primary colors, and moral teachings, but can a play with serious themes also be of value? Theatre can personify the fears of young people, show them practical ways of coping, or make them see that they are not alone with these worries. Theatre can also help young people demonstrate that they are allowed to feel strong emotions like anger, or sadness when life throws them a challenge.  We can illustrate that it is ok to ask for help when you are overwhelmed. That sometimes you need to try one choice, then another, and keep trying before you can succeed, and that some stories, like life, don’t tie up in some nice, beautiful bow, but are long, ongoing journeys that can still contain joy and purpose.

I remember an artistic director saying that a play for young people can focus on almost anything, as long as there is hope at the end. That is what motivated me through the writing process of The Revil. To find moments of friendship, humour, bravery and of course…hope.

The best writing advice I have ever received is: Just write. And it’s true. You can have all your ideas up in your head, but you need to get them down on paper. And here’s the thing. It may never be as good as it was in your head. You will look at the screen and think, “Ech, I’m no good, I have nothing to say, this sounds so fake or phoney!”. And you may want to shut your laptop and go watch some TV. But, and I mean this, stick with it. The first draft is supposed to be messy and awkward. Walk away from it for a while. Then come back with fresh eyes and new insight. And continue the journey of telling your own story. In your own words. It will be worth it in the end.