LIVE, LEARN, & LOVE SERIES #109. I Swear (film based on the true story, 2025)

Do you take delight in watching films, listening to pop music, or reading books? For English learners, movies, songs, and books are one of the most wonderful sources to explore the language! You can indulge in your favorite

wisdom, and oftentimes good lessons while you’re at it.

 

#109. I Swear (film, 2025)

This movie tells the true story of John Davidson, a Scottish activist whose life with Tourette’s Syndrome began at a time when the condition was little understood. His story was first introduced to the world in the 1989 BBC documentary titled John’s Not Mad, which inspired writer-director Kirk Jones to return to John’s life decades later.

What began as a painful struggle with misunderstanding became a journey of courage, resilience, and advocacy. John transformed his challenges into a powerful voice for others with Tourette’s—and ultimately received recognition from Queen Elizabeth II.

 

(John Davidson said) “The problem is not Tourette's, the problem is that people don't know enough about Tourette's.”

ð     This is one of the most powerful messages in the movie that the hardest part of living with Tourette Syndrome may not be the condition itself, but the misunderstanding and judgment that surround it. As well aware, Tics are involuntary. Even words that may sound offensive or hurtful can be symptoms rather than expressions of a person’s thoughts, intentions, or character. When people do not understand this, they may mistake a neurological condition for bad behavior or deliberate cruelty of that person.

 

“Dottie Achenbach: "We have one rule in this house, and that's if you do anything you can't help, you never ever have to apologize for it."

ð     There is something quietly powerful about Dottie’s words in I Swear: “You don’t have to apologize.” For John, they mean far more than forgiveness. They offer him freedom. Outside those walls, every tic has the potential to draw a stare, a laugh, a judgment or belittling. Every involuntary sound can become another reason to feel ashamed. But in Dottie’s home, something changes. For a moment, John does not have to fight his own body—or explain himself to the world. Her words draw a line between the person and the condition. John is not his tics. He is not the words that escape without permission. And he certainly does not owe the world an apology for something he cannot control.

 

(Dottie Achenbach said): “So what has he actually done?

(Police Constable/ Inspector MacCullen said): “He was carrying a package which he claimed was crack cocaine.”

(Dottie Achenbach said): “And was it crack cocaine?”

(MacCullen said) “No, it was a bag of sugar. But the next time, they'll trust you with the real thing.”

(Dottie Achenbach said): “You can't arrest him for what might happen the next time. Look, he should not be locked up. He cannot help what he says, he has Tourette's syndrome.”

ð     This is the scene where a bag of sugar sits quietly in John’s hands. But in the eyes of a police officer, the words coming from his mouth tell a very different story. In that brief moment, a harmless object becomes suspicious, and an involuntary tic begins to sound like a confession. This is one of the most unsettling moments in the story. A scene where a neurological symptom is mistaken for criminal intent. John says he is carrying crack cocaine, but inside the bag is only sugar. Still, the officer focuses on what John has said—and on what he might do—rather than what he has actually done. 

     Dottie sees what the officer cannot in that John’s words are not his intentions. His tics are not his character. To punish him for something his brain compels him to do is to confuse illness with guilt.

** Jean’s Small Thoughts:

I happened to watch the movie “I Swear” during a long flight to my home country. I was tired and could easily have dozed off, but somehow, I never closed my eyes for even a moment. Perhaps it was because John’s life was impossible to look away from. What could be more exhausting and painful than living with a condition that can suddenly turn an ordinary moment into a spectacle—drawing unwanted stares, whispers, laughter, or judgment from complete strangers?

The film made me think about how difficult it must be to move through the world when your own body can unexpectedly call attention to you, again and again, in ways you cannot control. The condition itself may be painful, but the eyes of others can sometimes make the burden even heavier.

Somehow, somewhere above the clouds, John’s story stayed with me long after the film ended.

Davidson’s heart-wrenching journey of life as a Tic patient reminds us how deeply ignorance can wound—and how powerful understanding can be. Through his struggles, he had been turning pain into advocacy, showing us that education can replace fear with empathy, judgment with compassion, and isolation with acceptance. This was not possible by his own strong will or unconditional sacrifice of his own parents at all. It was possible by crucial people around John – such as his old school friend Murray, his mom Dottie, his step father Chris, and the caretaker Tommy at the local community center - who saw him with incredible patience rather than judgment. Each relationship gives him something different as he slowly learns to trust himself.

Dottie became a source of emotional safety which was not even provided by John’s own parents. She helped John through his anxiety and nervousness, but more importantly, she never treated his Tourette’s as something that made him less worthy. Her acceptance gave John permission to relax, being comfortable in his own skin. Dottie’s husband Chris also became part of John’s social world, offering friendship as he began to come out of his shell. Their presence helped him build confidence and experience ordinary moments of companionship without constantly feeling judged as before.

As for Tommy, he offered John something equally important to live as an adult in his society: opportunity. As the caretaker of the local community center, Tommy gave John his first job and treated him like any other person. He did not make a spectacle of John’s tics or demanded explanations at all. His quiet acceptance helped John experience what it feels like to be trusted and useful.

Together, these relationships show different forms of support—Dottie gives John emotional security, Tommy gives him opportunity, and Chris and Murray give him friendship and belonging. What makes these connections so moving is that none of them require John to become someone different than he is. They meet him where he is, allowing him to discover that acceptance can be the beginning of confidence—and that sometimes, finding the right people can change the way you see yourself. Sometimes compassion is simply creating a place where a person no longer feels the need to say, “I’m sorry.”

In case of John, his life is a quiet portrait of what happens when ignorance turns a medical symptom into suspicion, and suspicion into punishment. Perhaps the most unsettling question that leaves behind is ‘How often do we judge people by what we hear, see, or fear—without stopping to ask what lies beyond their control’. Oftentimes, justice begins with something very simple: learning the difference between what a person chooses to do and what a person cannot help doing.