Dear Kim:
I am intrigued by your new drawing titled, "Ever wonder why you
go 70 mpg and never move?"
Did you mean miles per hour?
(Kim:
Yes. But it is funny, after hearing a great radio program about Einstein today.)
And
then you have these Adam and Eve figures. Are you suggesting
that something about what—gender? history? the
fact and limitations of our bodies? God help us, original
sin?
makes it difficult for
us to progress or make changes?
(Kim:
Before the Garden of Eden we could do no wrong. Now we know right
from wrong.)
Are
you suggesting that or disagreeing?
Please tell me more.
It also seems like a drawing about rushing.
(Kim:
I went out today to do some errands. Everyone was rushing,
tailgating, long lines. It was a nightmare. I love this quote
by Wordsworth, "Getting and spending we lay waste our powers.
Little we know of nature that is ours.)
Yesterday certainly
was a rushing day for me. A performance of our own, lunch
with you, a friend's performance,
a neighbor's holiday party
and then a 65th birthday party.
Several days social activity compressed into one.
I tried to stay focused in each activity but it was
a bit hard. I am tired
this morning.
Thanks so much for coming to see our performance
of the DisAbility Project for the Girl Scouts at
Maryville yesterday.
It is a tremendous amount of work to put something
like that together. To partner with an organization
for the first time
in which we are
checking out each other's cultures. A large
organization with a lot of checks and balances and their own speed.
And to bring such a large group of the performers
to the show. Especially some of our folks
with cognitive disabilities. They
require additional
attention and assistance so they can remember
where they are trying to go and be reminded to focus.
(Kim:
What you are doing with the actors, and what you did for the
Girl Scouts was
heroic...and effective.)
Whenever possible, I prefer
to bring a large group as it gives more people a chance to
participate and also shows a wider range
of personalities
and challenges to the audience.
But it is much more work that way and I need to make sure I have
sufficient
staff
or volunteers to support that
choice.
I am curious what you
thought about the performance.
(Kim:
I saw it as extremely engaging education (edutainment?)
Did
you have an expectation?
(Kim: Since I saw it
before, I wasn't too surprised. But I loved the way the kids
interacted.)
Was it what you expected?
What struck you the most about
the performance?
(Kim:
The openness of the actors about their disability. It reminded
me how important it is to focus on what one can do, as opposed
to what one can't do.)
About the
endeavor?
(Kim: As I mentioned
at lunch. Most of us aren't trained at educating all but the
best students. What struck me was how this was such a good model
for so many different subjects.)
We often
suggest that
kids draw
a memorable moment
or exchange
from a performance
and they
often draw
us dancing.
I
think that to
dance is to
live. Someone
famous must
have said
that. And if
they didn't,
I just
did. Movement suggests
a kind of life
force to me.
If you watch
most animals
or young children,
they are
almost always
moving in some
capacity.
(Kim:
I was never a dancer. Though I liked being close to girls so
much in high school that I'd dance every dance. Have not really
danced since.)
I,
of course,
think everyone
can dance, regardless
of`or perhaps
because of their
physicality. You can
dance if you
are paralyzed. You just
do it in a
different way,
your own way.
And that is fine.
I once met a
guy who was completely
paralyzed from
the neck down.
He danced
with his
tongue and with
his eyes.
(Kim:
A wonderful image.)
I
loved many
things about
the show yesterday.
The unselfconscious readiness
with
which the girls
were ready
to participate. When
I taught them
a song, they
were ready
to sing.
When I invited
them to
dance, they
practically all wanted
to come on
stage.
But
a pivotal
moment was when
one little
girl asked
if we had ever
been called
names. Of course,
we have.
So when I asked
in Socratic
fashion, if they
had ever been
called names,
almost all of
these really
beautiful, really
smart little
girls raised
their hands.
Ouch.
I
love the possibilities
of the
live moment.
And the ability
to identify an
important live
moment as a teaching
and learning and collective
moment.
So if there
was a "most," at
yesterday's performance
for me, I most loved the moment where I asked them
to take a pledge with
me
that we would never call someone
a mean name. That we would
never let someone
call us a mean name. And perhaps most importantly, we would
never let other kids call someone
else a mean name.
(Kim:
That was quick thinking on your part. If I was evaluating the
performance as a class, I'd make it glowing.)
And
if
we saw that
happening, we would
tell the other kid(s)
to stop or let a teacher or parent or
girl scout
leader or another
adult we trust
know what was going on and ask for
their help.
I
had not
planned that
moment but
it totally
seemed called
for. And
that is
why I
love theatre.
At least
the kind we
do. Because
it is
live and
only semi
scripted and
allows for
the possibilities
of real
exchange and
real transformation.
I
was called
scarface as
a little
girl of
seven because
I had
my face
torn open
by a
dog.
How
about you?
(Kim: There was a lot
of pain for me being a kid. I had trouble learning to speak,
trouble getting by in a competitive school. But I always loved
to work with my hands...and I loved art from the age of 12 to
this moment (without ever losing that love for a minute).
Later,
Joan
Saturday,
Dec 10,
2005