Written by Shlomit Ovadia of JCC Denver
If you are a patron of JCC Denver, chances are you either know Nancy Alterman personally or have shared a friendly interaction with her. Whenever Nancy is at the J, people flock to her like bees to honey, and for a good reason. Her palpable warmth and gregarious personality are infectious, and the J is a garden where Nancy truly blooms.
Yet the lifelong and beloved JCC Denver member’s life was seldom as bright and rosy as it is now.
Nancy Alterman
“I was always a side character in my own life,” Nancy recalls growing up as a teenager struggling in the shadow of her bipolar disorder. “I just felt like there was a heavy shade that was pulled down—and vibration—that separated me from the world.”
By the time Nancy made her way to college, she was struggling to cling to the personality others had placed on her: beauty and athleticism. “It was an easy identity to hide behind.”
But the turbulence of manic and depressive episodes was taking a toll on Nancy, who felt strange going through the motions of college without a plan for her career, future, or even selfcare. “The inclination never entered my thinking. I just felt like I couldn’t do anything.”
The sense of loneliness that Nancy’s neurodivergence brought led her to further isolate, especially after losing her sister around this time to the same illness. “I was most comfortable by myself, in my own head,” she explains.
After cycling through numerous doctors, medications, and two hospitalizations, Nancy decided to join her brother on a silent meditation retreat. Something clicked. “I still use the techniques I learned at Vipassana. When I feel my mania revving up, I try to center myself, and just breathe.”
Fast forward to 55 years of age, and Nancy was working through the after-effects of a prolonged manic episode that left her completely depleted at rock bottom. Her doctor at the time recommended she try Electric Convulsive Therapy, better known as shock therapy. No sooner did Nancy pack her bags and head to Centennial Peaks Hospital for the treatment.
After 15 treatments that she describes as a “powerful experience,” something magical happened. Nancy not only stabilized but discovered an explosion of latent artistic talents and began to see herself for who she really was. Having never taken an art class, she intuitively began creating collages, and eventually moved onto photography, and pen and ink drawings, often blending these elements together.
“Collages are about piecing things together. I was also piecing together— who is Nancy? I discovered who I was meant to be and the possibility of what I can be and contribute to the world.”
Between all the people stopping by to indulge in a genuine “hi, how are you?” during our interview or jump in for a hug, it is clear the artist has plenty of horsepower behind her intention.
Over the past fifteen years, Nancy has been actively involved at JCC Denver as a patron of the tennis and fitness centers, and arts and cultural programming. In addition to her leadership positions with the Mizel Arts and Culture Center Board and JCC Denver Development Volunteer Committee, she has truly built a network of friends and family fiercely devoted to her wellbeing.
It is remarkable just how many people Nancy’s brain can keep tabs on. “I try to meet everybody I see and really get to know them. Now, I have this huge community of friends,” and so much love to give.
As a JCC Denver volunteer, Nancy says, “There’s nothing I don’t love about the JCC. Their programs are wonderful in how they bring people together and I like to be involved and make a difference. I love my Jewish identity and am proud of it. Being Jewish, there is always that spark of joy and connection.”
Nancy’s passion to serve community and produce impactful art has led to her involvement in several other organizations, including the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Big Heart Art, Education through Music, Jewish National Fund (JNF), and National Council of Jewish Women (NCJW).
She also regularly donates her art to silent auctions, as well as 100% of the proceeds from her four art shows thus far.
“By sharing my story, I can make a difference [in others’ lives] by showing that recovery is possible from deep depression,” she asserts, also disclosing her daily medication regiment.
Our hour together wraps up, but I know Nancy’s journey is far from finished. As we say goodbye and part ways from our shared space on the bench outside on a cloudy, humid morning in late August, the memory of Nancy’s soft expression and kind eyes lingers in my mind. I think— how might my face look if I, too, was living in the healing waters of my own truth?
