posted November 10, 2000 07:40            

DANCE TO SILENCE

The phone rang and I was informed that I was speaking to an operator who was transmitting for a deaf person. Since I had never done this before, I found the method workable but awkward. It took me a while to realize that my caller wanted to set up an appointment to take a private ballet class. My prospective student’s name was Emily, she was twenty-years old and totally deaf since birth. Though it is unusual for a deaf person to take ballet class it is not without precedent. In fact I only recently had read an article about a class composed of deaf children that was published in Dance Magazine.

Emily was beautiful. She was also highly intelligent and quite capable at navigating her way through a world of hearing people. She could read lips very well and she could speak fairly clearly. I had no doubt in my mind that I could teach her the ballet and no doubt also that I would learn from Emily. And from the very first class, I did. I discovered immediately that when I spoke I had to face her directly and catch her eye. I could not speak as I walked away or turn my head, or watch her in the studio mirror and speak. She had to be able to really see my lips move. I also discovered she could understand me much better than I could understand her.

Since Emily could not hear the music, we clapped hands together before each set of dance combinations to set the rhythm she would need to know. But I found I had to play music for myself because I needed both its tempo and inspiration. Sometimes it really saddened me to think how much beauty Emily was missing. Often when I heard or thought of a lovely waltz it would suddenly occur to me to play that particular piece for Emily in ballet class, that it would fit perfectly with what I was teaching her, and then I would remember that Emily couldn’t hear it. There were times, however, when sound was a disturbance, as when a baby started screaming right outside the studio. I had to quickly shut the door so I could hear the music and keep my focus on my teaching. Emily, of course, was undisturbed.

She had spent her life negotiating her way through the world of hearing people, my world. There came a day when, though only for a brief time, I entered her world. I had a terribly sore throat and completely lost my voice. I couldn’t even whisper. But in teaching my deaf student I thought this would not be a liability, she only needed me to move my lips. However, the studio we normally used was being repainted so she and I moved to another studio that was in the back of the building and upstairs. It had no windows and no other room nearby, and I soon discovered there was no electric outlet for me to use to plug in my tape player. But since Emily couldn’t hear the music anyway, we proceeded with the class. Suddenly I noticed how quiet it all was, no sounds of traffic, no music, not even my voice. The two of us were alone in this room and I realized I had entered Emily’s silent world. She was comfortable, I felt lost and this feeling deepened as time went on. It was an interesting insight for me.

Though she was extremely good at making her way in the world of hearing people, there were times she was overwhelmed. Once while on her way to ballet class, she came upon a major traffic detour due to an accident. There was a great deal of confusion. A policeman started shouting at her and though she could not hear him, nor read his lips from a distance, she could feel his anger at her. She also knew the other drivers were angry and impatient with her, too. So in tears, she made a U-turn and went back home. I did not own this studio and the rule was that a missed class had to be paid for, and so this was not only frustrating for her, it was costly too.

Emily was such a delight, so easy to love. In time she left to go to Galudet College and I lost track of her. But I often think of that lovely young woman and how much I learned from teaching her.

Copyright April, 2000

posted November 10, 2000 09:09         

In the past we have had students who are afflicted with cerebral palsy, ADD/ADHD, multiple sclerosis, learning and behavior problems, cancer survivors, and Down's syndrome...I'm sure I'm leaving out a few others! Currently at our studio we have enrolled a few ADD kids, one child with Downs, one adult going through radiation, and one child with CP. I never say no to anyone as I believe dance is something everyone can do.

I enjoy these students on another level than my "nda" students as they are working on a different playing field than the rest. Most must try harder to get the concept or the quality of movement that many abled bodied people take for granted. The joy that shows on their faces when the step is mastered is tenfold and always special--each performance is a milestone in itself and is never something that is taken for granted by these students or their parents.

posted November 10, 2000 12:31            

Once I was on the way to a rehearsal. I was exhausted, my feet hurt, I was facing long hours of rehearsals after a grueling morning of classes that I had both taught and taken. I was halfway running through a huge parking lot to the rehearsal hall, it was cold and raining. I was loaded down with all my bags of stuff -tapes, tape players, etc. My feet and body were just screaming with pain. That's all I could think of - how am I going to get through this day?

And then I saw before me - a long line of wheel chairs with people whose bodies seemed scarcely recognizable as human - coming toward me. They were smiling - they had spent the morning in an indoor pool where they could find some freedom of movement.

posted November 10, 2000 14:03            

I have also had dealings with a 3 year old boy who is being tested for autism - his reaction to music is beautiful and I have been told that although his participation in the actual class can be hit and miss he re-enacts my class in order later in the day.

posted November 10, 2000 14:30            

Even in that case - they enjoyed the experience - and that more than made it worthwhile for me.

posted November 10, 2000 22:50         

As the parent of two SDL kids and a dyslexic myself, I more often am witness to the ignorance of people. I am refreshed after reading all of your posts.

Yes there is a place in dance for all & yes we can learn much from each other and about ourselves if we are open to the experience. I have worked with students with many differing abilities through the years physical and cognative and would not trade the time for 100 students with perfect technique.

posted November 11, 2000 15:44            

There were days when I came home from teaching and dancing, completely drained, thinking how wonderful it would be to teach a class of preprofessional and professional students. A class that sweated as much as I did. No ballet mothers to listen to as they feuded with one another. Everyone of the students with perfect bodies - the creme de la creme. Every foot beautifully arched. Like the Bolshoi perhaps. Great studios, wonderful pianists. Wow - what a dream that would be!!

But, actually, I think I would have been bored to tears. Seeing the little mouse in the back of the room who worked so hard and was so quiet - watching a slow smile spread across her face as she finally accomplished something she had been working on for a long time. I would have missed that.

Watching the eyes suddenly brighten on the face of a woman who took her first ballet class when she was forty years old and finally she had the time to devote to herself.

A really overweight woman, who had a very bad self image of her body - do something like a pirouette better than anyone else in the room - and her personal joy in that moment.

posted November 14, 2000 17:44            

I had a funny experience some years ago. We needed to dig up an outgoing water pipe from our house as it crossed under our lawn to the street. The pipe was buried under about three or four feet of earth. Rather than dig up the entire lawn area - I took off my shoes and walked around the lawn as water was run through the pipe and I was able to pinpoint the pipe from the vibrations I could feel in my feet. When I told the plumbers where to dig - and they found the pipe as I indicated, they were amazed.

posted November 15, 2000 07:11            

But can there be a down side? Suppose they are disruptive - in a behavior sense as well as in a more passive way - of just disrupting the flow of the class?

What are the teacher's responsbility to the rest of the class?

posted November 16, 2000 15:00            

It is a tricky situation and I am sure that I have probably lost pupils before due to the fact that they were in the class with the special needs student. Quite often I don't think that it is the other students that have the problem - but the other students parents!

posted March 14, 2001 16:00            

That being said it is a most enjoyable and illuminating book about a dance company called "Dancing Wheels". It has two kinds of dancers "sit down dancers" (in wheelchairs) and "stand up dancers" (those not in wheelchairs. There are other challenges, such as deafness.

All of these semmingly disparate challenges come together with one goal - to dance. Two adult dancers lead the company and the pictures and ideas for the company are truly inspiring. They practice, rehearse, have workshops and perform.

posted March 14, 2001 16:52            

In "regular classes" I've worked with several students with disabilities. One was a blind student who got herself to class on the NY subway system. She also was a musician, and accompanied classes. Truly amazing. When she was in class, it took some extra energy on my part but it was definitely worth it. I had to make sure and say every single exercise and combination component; I couldn't just demonstrate or use verbal shorthand. The only time things got a little hairy was when we were moving across the floor. She couldn't see where others in her group were, and it was a challenge for her to orient herself in space. It caused some traffic jams. But everyone was pretty good-natured about it, and I'd try to keep her on track by standing at the end of the diagonal,and having her listen to where my voice was coming from.

I agree that one difficult situation occurs when parents don't tell you what the deal is with their special needs kids. I feel sorry for them; many are embarrassed or in denial. Sometimes they have no basis for comparison and don't realize, for example, that their child has some coordination/neurological challenges. It has to be dealt with so diplomatically. Many are grateful when I bring it up and they realize that my purpose is to learn as much as I can so I can help as much as I can. By the time they reach ballet class a lot of these kids already have had some unpleasant experiences in the classroom. They know they are different, and sometimes they think they are bad. There is often the assumption on parents' parts, that sharing their child's history will result in the child being kicked out of class. Sometimes ballet becomes a lifeline for these kids, and with the right kind of structuring or some minor accommodation, we can really make a difference. I live for those "victories!"

posted March 18, 2001 13:26            

MODERN DANCE EXPRESSION, FOR EVERY BODY

quote:

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There are blind students, deaf students, autistic students, students in wheelchairs, and students with emotional problems at The Center for Modern Dance Education in Hackensack. And when they hear the music, their instincts take over.

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MORE...

posted April 03, 2001 14:09            

"It's all in a day's work for Johnson at the Lab School for children with learning disabilities. He mixes yoga, tai chi, gymnastics and all forms of dance into creative warm-ups, activities and games that encourage coordination, muscle development, focus and structure. He never raises his voice and often uses humor to persuade the clumsiest child to try a cartwheel."

posted April 03, 2001 14:21         

It was also at this same performance -- an open house -- that I saw "Dancers of the Third Age," a company of senior citizens. One, in her 90s was in a wheel chair and told a story and did mime with her arms. She left me with tears in my eyes.

I recall reading in Dancemagazine several years back about quite an accomplished ballerina who was legally deaf and I thought she was with SF Ballet? Anyone know who I am speaking of?

I had a small child in a pre-school class who arrive the first day missing huge tufts of hair. She had long hair where there was hair, but large expanses of baldness due to a medical condition. I was worried about how the other children would react, but little kids can be surprising -- it was business as usual. Not one comment.

posted April 03, 2001 15:28            

But, even then, there was a great deal of enjoyment on their part. They enjoyed being able to move, doing something different. At the time I was working as a administrative assistant (that was the highest title for a woman at that time), running the business end of an in-patient/out-patient facility. And I volunteered to do this, having no idea what would be the result. It was a most gratifying experience.