Back on August 11, 2012, there was the
slightest tinge of fall in the air. Not enough to really notice, but when
you’ve lived in Alabama all your life, as I have, you tend to become aware of
that moment, usually sometime in mid-August,
when the humidity lifts ever so slightly, making it feel less like a
convection oven outside than it has been for the previous four months. The
temperature may still be in the low 90s, but when the humidity lets up even a
fraction of a percentage, you can feel it in the air. An interesting
coincidence, since the first time I walked outside on August 11 and noticed
that lightness in the air, I was heading out to a local department store where
the teenagers in the arts program that I founded for people with special needs
were performing at a back-to-school fashion show.
 |
| Project UP students and I at the Belk fashion show performance |
My program is called The Johnny
Stallings Arts Program (JSAP) and through its five components, provides visual
and performing arts education, along with social and cultural activities, to
children, teens and adults with a variety of special needs like Down syndrome,
autism and cerebral palsy. I’ve decided to start blogging about these programs
and my life because of how profoundly I’ve been affected by having
relationships with people who have special needs and their families. When I
started my program in 2008, I had no experience of any sort with people who
have disabilities. Almost immediately, I knew I had found my life’s calling. I
have learned more in the past four years from people who society tells us are “less
than” than I’ve ever learned from my typical peers.
So anyway, eight of Project UP’s girls
performed a hip hop routine at the fashion show and did a fantastic job, as
always. We actually have 26 students that are both boys and girls, ages 13-21,
in Project UP, but there were only eight girls who were available to
participate. Project UP performed first, followed by a children’s theatre group
performing songs from their production of Annie, followed by the fashion show.
After Project UP performed, they sat in reserved seats with me to watch the
Annie performers and the parade of back-to-school outfits. On my left was an 18-year-old student who has
autism and on my right was a 13-year-old who has a developmental disability. I
have no idea what her actual diagnosis is.
After working with my students for four
years now, I no longer care to know what their diagnosis is, unless it’s
something life threatening, like a peanut allergy. When I first started my
program, I wanted to know everything about each child’s diagnosis, but now I
realize that it doesn’t matter. I care what their diagnosis is - be it Down
syndrome, cerebral palsy, autism or something else - about as much as I care
what color their hair is. It simply makes no difference to me anymore because
the children, teens and adults that I know are so much more than their
diagnosis.
At any rate, while the lead actress was
singing “The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow,” the girl on my left was rocking back
and forth and repeating to me over and over, “She sings really good. I like her
singing. She sings really good, I like her singing.” I agreed with her, and
added, “You guys sing really good too!” She then said, “Yes, we sing really
good. We are really good singers. We sing really good.”
The girl on my right leaned in and
asked me what we were talking about. I said, “We are talking about how well
that little girl can sing.” She agreed with me. Then I said, “You guys sing
really good too! Y’all sing as good as she does.” The girl looked at me
quizzically and said, “What did you say?” I repeated, “Y’all sing as good as
that little girl does.” She looked at me with the most dumbfounded expression
on her face and answered with a great deal of disdain, “WHAT in the WORLD are
you talking about? We do NOT sing as good as that girl and you know it.” I
cracked up laughing - at her vehement disagreement with me, at her sarcastic
retort. And then I hugged her and said, “You know what? You’re right. You guys
do not sing nearly as good as that little girl does. But I love the way you
sing anyway.”
She accepted my comment with a nod of
her head, as if she was telling me, “Now, that’s more like it.” She wanted my
honesty - she didn’t want my compliments if they weren’t truthful. She wanted
me to shoot straight with her and when I did, she accepted the truth.
No, the students in Project UP cannot
sing as well as that little girl. And they know it. But that does nothing to
dampen their enthusiasm for singing, which is exactly what I love about them
and is why listening to the Project UP kids sing is better to me than when I
sat on the front row for Celine Dion’s show in Vegas and watched her sing a
French lullaby directly to my husband, Alan.
The sort of singing - and dancing and
acting - that the kids in Project UP do is the purest form of artistic
expression, in my humble opinion, because when they sing, or dance, or act,
they are doing it simply because they have the urge to express themselves
through that art form. They aren’t concerned with form, pedagogy, tone, technique;
they aren’t concerned with anyone’s reaction to their performance. While they
do love a standing ovation, they don’t perform for applause or approval. They
perform simply because they want to and because they can. I have been lucky
enough to see some amazing artistic performances, from Broadway to London’s
West End, even getting to have a private meet and greet with Paul McCartney
before attending his concert in Vegas in 2005. Nothing I’ve ever seen can even
come close to the pure artistic expression I see each time I watch our Project
UP kids perform. To me, they embody what being an artist really is, and that’s
why Alan and I, and our organization, have devoted ourselves to providing
access to arts education and performance opportunities to people with special
needs. I hope I will continue to have chances to see amazing professional
artists perform but if I never get the chance to go to New York or to a concert
again, it won’t matter. I’ve got Project UP’s performances to see, and that’s
more than enough for me.
-Debra Jenkins, Chairman
No comments:
Post a Comment