Prime Example of Hollywood's Generous Spirit
We read about them every week: celebrities who are selfish and self-indulgent, people with too much money and not enough good sense. Obviously, though, everyone in Hollywood isn't that way. Hundreds of big names in television, movies, music, sports and media give their time and money to raise awareness, and more money, for causes near and dear to their hearts. Often they get involved because of one intense experience, such as the illness of a friend or family member. They suddenly realize, as Halle Berry puts it, "These things don't just take care of themselves."Berry, 38, the flawlessly beautiful Oscar-winning actress, is a prime example of Hollywood's generous spirit. A diabetic, she helps raise funds for the research and treatment of childhood diabetes. She does hands-on work at shelters of the Jenesee Center for battered women. Since Berry's own father abused her mother and older sister, and she herself has admitted being partially deaf in one ear because a man she was involved with once struck her, she relates in a fundamental way. She also works with the Make-A-Wish Foundation, which tries to grant the dreams of terminally ill children. Berry recently met with Reader's Digest and talked about her causes and the amazing payback they bring.
Deep Compassion for Children
A few weeks ago, I spent the day with an 11-year-old boy with cancer who wanted to come out to California and meet me. The trip was arranged through Make-A-Wish. He'd never flown on a plane, and his wish also included going to Disneyland and to Universal City. We rode the rides, had lunch and played miniature golf -- we just had the best time. The hard part for me is when the "wish day" is over and you're supposed to say goodbye. Most of these children are terminally ill, so when you're granting their wish, you know you may be seeing them for the last time. There was a point when I thought, I cannot do this. Then I realized that before a child passed away, I was able to put a smile on his face. So I told myself it would be really selfish to let a little pain stop me from doing a lot of good.This boy -- I just couldn't let him go. So now, for however long he's here, he's in my life. I talk to him all the time. He wants to see how a movie's made, so whatever movie I do next, I told him he could come and see what that's like.
So many of the kids I've spent time with through Make-A-Wish are struggling with being different in one way or another -- because of their race, their socioeconomic situation, or just their illness. The mere fact that they have a potentially terminal illness sets them apart, and many of them suffer, at such a young age, the effects of being made to feel different because of that. I think back to when I was young. My mother was white, my father was black, and I've always felt different and sometimes out of place. I talk with these kids about my experiences and about how they can deal with being different.
I have such deep compassion for children, and the joy that comes from helping them is immeasurable. I desperately want children of my own, and hope I haven't missed the chance. But if I have, I've also learned through my own life experience that I have the capacity to love as my own a child who is not my own. And I know I will keep embracing children like the little boy I spent the day with -- sort of my extended family of children.
Eye-Opening Experience
As I get older, finding ways to help others is more and more what it's all about for me. After I was diagnosed with diabetes when I was 20 years old, Barbara Davis, the wife of the late studio executive Marvin Davis, took me under her wing. The Davises founded the Carousel of Hope benefit for childhood diabetes, and I was blown away by all the people who were not sufferers of diabetes, but were giving to help people like me. I saw how research was advancing because of the dollars those people gave to discover a cure. And I was directly benefiting. It was an eye-opening experience.So I've chosen a few causes where I feel like my presence makes a difference. About five years ago, I got involved with the Jenesse Center. It's an organization that has many shelters now, but it started off very small. The group houses women who are victims of domestic violence, and they usually have their children in tow. We try to help them get back on their feet, out into the workplace and able to take care of themselves. We also help get the kids cleaned up, give them new clothes. I remember this one little girl came in, and I fell in love with her and held her all day long. I came home that night and was itching and scratching. The next morning, I woke up with head lice I'd gotten from this little baby. Some of the women and children who come in are really in need.
My father was an alcoholic who was very abusive to both my mother and my sister. He was never abusive to me -- probably because my mother and sister both were very rebellious and combative, whereas I would run and hide, not talk back.
I've since become a different person. My mother got my sister and me help when we were kids, and I have had a lot of therapy that many of these women never had, so I try to impart things that I've been lucky enough to learn. My mother taught my sister and me that if a man ever raises his hand to hit you, the last thing he sees is the smoke off your shoes 'cause you're going out the door. You don't stick around to be beat on.
Still, a lot of these women go back to their men, and it may take several times before they really figure out a new life. Part of our work is to convince them that they need to make other choices. We also remind them that their children are watching all of this.
I've begun searching my soul -- asking, What is my real purpose here? I've looked at what I do. I make believe and make movies; I entertain people and get paid to do it. Sometimes it seems like such a shallow existence. How insignificant is that really in the scheme of life? But when I can take that and use it to do real good in the world, then I get it: This is one of the things I'm supposed to do with the abundance I've been given.
I believe in karma, and it gives me peace knowing that I'm giving back, because I've been given so much in this life. "To whom much is given, much is expected." I know I'm only one person and might just help one or two people on a monthly basis. But if everyone did that, eventually everybody would be taken care of.
From