‘I think being active and caring about other people, those are the things which make life real and important.’
During her 69 years, Genevieve Engman has survived being thrown out of car in an accident, cancer surgery, a brain tumor and a stroke. Confined to a wheelchair since 1967, Gen, as she is know to friends, keeps pain at bay by keeping busy. In January, she launched “Clowning Around With Gen,” a puppet show she created for spinal cord, stroke and trauma victims. She was interviewed by Times staff writer G. Jeanette Avent and photographed by Dave Gatley.
The fact that I have been the whole route with spinal cord injuries and I’m in a wheelchair gives my message a special punch. I’ve had about 16 surgeries, a brain tumor, cancer, stroke--you name it, I’ve been there.
I did my first show in January for about 20 of the staff at the San Diego Rehabilitation Institute. I was still recovering from a recent setback, but everyone was so enthusiastic. Since then, I’ve done about 26 shows for patients and staff at several hospitals.
I think being active and caring about other people, those are the things which make life real and important. I can’t understand people who say they are so bored they don’t know what to do with themselves. I don’t have enough time in the day.
I decided last year I was going to do something for people in the hospital recuperating from spinal cord injuries, stroke and trauma. This is the route I had been over and over again so many times, so it was something I knew about.
Before the show, I come out from behind my stage, which fits around my wheelchair, and tell them my personal story and introduce my show. Although my main interest has always been marionettes, this show I do with hand puppets. I have recorded the voices for the show, the sound effects, and I use music box music as a background.
The story is about Bo Bo the clown. An oversized mallet representing “fate” hangs over his head even as he is telling the audience he is going to lead this long life. Then he looks up and down comes the mallet. When he comes back, he comes back up as Boo Hoo. He cries, “I’m not me anymore.” In the end, he learns to smile again and comes back again as Bo Bo but in a different costume. For the patients, the analogy is very clear. Just like Bo Bo, they have been hit by the hand of fate. But, like Bo Bo, they can learn to smile again. The goal of my program is to help patients accomplish the miracle of healing through laughter, love and faith.
When I first started, I would do the show and come back the following week for one-on-one with about four patients. Now I’m involved with all of the patients after the show. I wish I could do more because some of the responses have been just unbelievable. There is something about puppets that reaches into the innermost person. It’s the spirit of childhood, the spirit of loving in the puppet.
One of the patients, a 19-year-old who had been in a terrible motorcycle accident, hadn’t made any coordinated responses since his accident. He watched the puppet show and he tried to clap. His mother started crying and the therapists were abuzz. It was his first coordinated movement.
After the show, I work with the patients, giving them a hand puppet with interchangeable eyes, nose and mouth. I use all kinds of different textured materials for the features, such as a fuzzy nose to make it a tactile experience. It’s important that they get the brain to recognize these different signals as fuzzy, slick, hard and smooth.
Using puppets is such a totally unique approach for reaching these patients. I usually have eight to 10 in an audience, and last week I had a woman who sat through the show with her eyes closed. I was going to give her a hand puppet to hold, but her husband, who seemed very loving and caring, said she was brain damaged and she wouldn’t be able to do anything with it. I just said let’s try. I worked with her, fitting the puppet around her hand. She opened her eyes wide open and began trying to talk to me. She was very alert. Her husband didn’t realize what he was doing. He was reinforcing her problems. I empathize with them, but I never commiserate, because that would be pulling them back down. The more she hears the negative, the more she’s going to believe it. Nobody knows when they’re going to die, but I think some people must die 20 or 30 times in their life mentally because they’re so negative.
In the show, I stress the positive. We get so accustomed to negative thoughts that we get into a negative path. Life is like a mirror. It reflects the image we believe. Working with puppets gives patients another focus.
