Average Waves in Unprotected Waters

Tyler combines her focus on ordinary people with differing portrayals of mental health concerns to shift the societal view of mental challenges. This plants the seed of a new norm: In one way or another, everyone has trouble adapting to the world’s challenges and needs support to get by.

Through the 1970s, mental health conditions were considered unacceptable and unmentionable. Psychological difficulties carried a huge stigma, and anyone labeled “handicapped” or “disabled” was an outcast. The obvious example of this negative typecast is Arnold Blevins. Arnold is nonspeaking and moves erratically, so “people stare at him” and Bet “would [like] to push their faces in” (33). While protective of her son, Bet spends much of her energy trying to make him presentable to the world—buttoning his coat, straightening his collar, et cetera—as a way of managing his condition. Between society’s stigma and the strain of raising a child with a disability alone, Bet can only see Arnold’s condition as a problem; she and her ex-husband blamed themselves for Arnold’s ways because “you can’t believe a thing like this will just fall on you out of nowhere” (33). This barrier toward accepting Arnold as he is rather than wishing for a different outcome leads to Bet’s decision to abandon him.

Throughout the story, Arnold is seen as “other,” and the only person besides Bet to show love for him is Mrs. Puckett, a “soft lady” who makes his favorite cookies as a going-away present for him (32). Even her motives are unclear, however. When Arnold shows no signs of gratefulness or even recognition of her, she “[flaps] her large hands and [gives] up, sobbing” (33). Tyler is ambiguous, though, as to whether this display of emotion relates to true love and acceptance of Arnold or to her own sense of guilt that, like Bet, she could not continue to protect him from the harsh world. Bet muses that “maybe [Mrs. Puckett] felt to blame that he was going. But she’d done the best she could” (32). Everyone who interacts with Arnold treats him as a “thing” to be tidied, prodded, entertained, tolerated, or feared, rather than a human with similar wants, needs, dreams, or aspirations.

In the mid-20th century, many people believed that if individuals with mental health conditions were allowed into society, they would be dangerous or violent. Psychiatric hospitals and institutions were established to provide a place for developmentally disabled people to go when they had no other options. However, many of these hospitals used unethical and inhumane means to keep patients calm and contained, essentially stripping them of any agency or identity. Tyler alludes to this type of establishment with Bet’s description of Arnold’s future home. Everything is white, gray, and sterile; there is a pervading smell of disinfectant; and “there [isn’t a sign that children [live] there” except for one small picture on a “vacant wall” (35). The nurse informs Bet that they keep residents isolated for six months, with no visits from family, to give them time to “settle in” (35). All the “little white cots” are the same, with no allowances for individuality or the comforts of a real home. This is not a place for nurturing children; this is a warehouse for entities no one else will claim. The hospital’s cold unsuitability is reinforced by the scream in the penultimate scene; while Bet hopes that she is doing the right thing for herself and Arnold, the disembodied scream insists otherwise. Whether the scream comes from Arnold or not, he knows that his mother—his only companion—is abandoning him.

Although Arnold’s situation is the primary example of how society others those with mental health conditions, Bet is isolated and struggling to cope with her situation as well. The years of being Arnold’s primary caregiver have worn her down, but through her memories, readers see that she has had a lifelong battle with self-esteem and self-worth. Bet’s alienation is more subtle than Arnold’s but nonetheless impactful. She does not seem to have any friends. Even Mrs. Puckett, Arnold’s babysitter, is no more than an acquaintance, as evidenced by the fact that Bet refers to her with a respectful title and last name instead of a first name. Her husband left her, her parents have died, and she does not have siblings, so she is effectively alone in the world. While Bet is capable of surviving this way—she has a job and has managed to finance their lives for nine years—she is far from thriving. She lives in her head much of the time, remembering times when she had a more interactive life or criticizing herself. Bet lives in a vacuum, isolated from context or anything that would challenge her beliefs. A 21st-century doctor might acknowledge her burnout and low self-worth and develop a treatment plan, but in 1977, she is just a tired mother who is out of options.

Bet’s final decision to “sit back and watch” the world illustrates her numbness (36). Before the mayor and his assistants arrive, she is struggling with the prospect of entertaining herself for 20 minutes. Like the station she describes, Bet is “nothing but a shell” (36). Enveloped in anguish, she sits down and cries, but as soon as she realizes they are “putting on a sort of private play,” she “[wipes] her eyes and [smiles]” (36). This is not the smile of a happy woman; this is the empty smile of a woman who has been provided another distraction from her suppressed pain. Up until this moment, Arnold has been Bet’s distraction, but now, she can shift her attention to the “play” of the world and avoid feeling for a little longer.

Arnold’s and Bet’s issues are disparate, but they both experience the negative effects of the stigma of being mentally unwell, whether overtly or not. Neither character fits into the 1970s version of “normal,” Arnold being disabled and Bet being an unmarried single mother. However, through their character development, Tyler suggests that they are normal, or ordinary. If readers can see Bet and Arnold as simply human, not subhuman, then they can accept that everyone is human. Everyone grapples with their own psychology in some way, and thus mental illness is not an anomaly.