Creative Collaborations through

Inclusive Theatre and Community

Based Learning: Students in Transition
1st Edition Lisa A. Kramer
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://textbookfull.com/product/creative-collaborations-through-inclusive-theatre-and-
community-based-learning-students-in-transition-1st-edition-lisa-a-kramer/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

Young Adolescent Engagement in Learning: Supporting

Students through Structure and Community Jeanne Allen

https://textbookfull.com/product/young-adolescent-engagement-in-
learning-supporting-students-through-structure-and-community-
jeanne-allen/

Theatre and National Identity in Colonial India

Formation of a Community through Cultural Practice
Sharmistha Saha

https://textbookfull.com/product/theatre-and-national-identity-
in-colonial-india-formation-of-a-community-through-cultural-
practice-sharmistha-saha/

Community Based Tourism in the Developing World

Community Learning Development Enterprise 1st Edition
Wiltshier

https://textbookfull.com/product/community-based-tourism-in-the-
developing-world-community-learning-development-enterprise-1st-
edition-wiltshier/

Employing Community Based Experiential Learning in

Teacher Education Gary Harfitt

https://textbookfull.com/product/employing-community-based-
experiential-learning-in-teacher-education-gary-harfitt/
Managing the Transition to IFRS Based Financial
Reporting A Practical Guide to Planning and
Implementing a Transition to IFRS or National GAAP
which is Based on or Converged with IFRS 1st Edition
Lisa Weaver
https://textbookfull.com/product/managing-the-transition-to-ifrs-
based-financial-reporting-a-practical-guide-to-planning-and-
implementing-a-transition-to-ifrs-or-national-gaap-which-is-
based-on-or-converged-with-ifrs-1st-edition-lisa/

Strategies for success in musical theatre: a guide for

music directors in school, college, and community
theatre 1st Edition Herbert D. Marshall

https://textbookfull.com/product/strategies-for-success-in-
musical-theatre-a-guide-for-music-directors-in-school-college-
and-community-theatre-1st-edition-herbert-d-marshall/

Ecodramaturgies: Theatre, Performance and Climate

Change Lisa Woynarski

https://textbookfull.com/product/ecodramaturgies-theatre-
performance-and-climate-change-lisa-woynarski/

Improvised Theatre and the Autism Spectrum A Practical

Guide to Teaching Social Connection and Communication
Skills 1st Edition Kramer

https://textbookfull.com/product/improvised-theatre-and-the-
autism-spectrum-a-practical-guide-to-teaching-social-connection-
and-communication-skills-1st-edition-kramer/

Achieving Inclusive Growth in China Through Vertical

Specialization 1st Edition Wang

https://textbookfull.com/product/achieving-inclusive-growth-in-
china-through-vertical-specialization-1st-edition-wang/
 Palgrave Studies in Play, Performance, Learning, and Development
LISA A. KRAMER AND JUDY FREEDMAN FASK

Creative Collaborations
through Inclusive Theatre
and Community
Based Learning
STUDENTS IN TRANSITION
Palgrave Studies In Play, Performance,
Learning, and Development

Series Editor

Lois Holzman
East Side Institute for Group
and Short Term Psychotherapy
New York, New York, USA
Aims of the series
This series showcases research, theory and practice linking play and
performance to learning and development across the life span. Bringing
the concerns of play theorists and performance practitioners together with
those of educational and developmental psychologists and counsellors
coincides with the increasing professional and public recognition that
changing times require a reconceptualization of what it means to develop,
to learn and to teach. In particular, outside of school and informal learning,
the arts, and creativity are coming to be understood as essential in order
to address school failure and isolation. Drawing upon existing expertise
within and across disciplinary and geographical borders and theoretical
perspectives, the series features collaborative projects and theoretical cross-
overs in the work of theatre artists, youth workers and scholars in educa-
tional, developmental, clinical and community psychology, social work and
medicine—providing real world evidence of play and theatrical-­type per-
formance as powerful catalysts for social-emotional-cognitive growth and
successful learning. Advisory Board: Patch Adams, Founder, Gesundheit
Institute, USA; Natalia Gajdamaschko, Simon Fraser University, Canada;
Kenneth Gergen, Professor, Swarthmore College, USA and Tilburg
University, the Netherlands; Artin Gonçu, Professor, University of Illinois
at Chicago, USA; James Johnson, Professor, Pennsylvania State University,
USA; Fernanda Liberali, Professor, Pontific Catholic University of
São Paulo, Brazil; Yuji Moro, Professor, University of Tsukuba, Japan;
Alex Sutherland, Professor, Rhodes University, South Africa; Jill Vialet,
Founder and CEO, Playworks, USA.

More information about this series at

http://www.springer.com/series/14603
 Lisa A. Kramer • Judy Freedman Fask

Creative
Collaborations
through Inclusive
Theatre and
Community Based
Learning
Students in Transition
Lisa A. Kramer Judy Freedman Fask
Worcester State University Worcester Public Schools, Worcester,
Worcester, Massachusetts, USA Massachusetts, USA

Palgrave Studies In Play, Performance, Learning, and Development

ISBN 978-1-137-59925-4    ISBN 978-1-137-59926-1 (eBook)
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-59926-1

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016962212

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2017

This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the
Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of
translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on
microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval,
electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now
known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this
publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are
exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information
in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the
publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to
the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made.

Cover illustration: © UK Stock Images Ltd / Alamy Stock Photo

Printed on acid-free paper

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by Springer Nature

The registered company is Nature America Inc. New York
The registered company address is: 1 New York Plaza, New York, NY 10004, U.S.A.
 Dedicated to all the people who commit their time, energy, imagination,
enthusiasm, and heart to creating programs that inspire others. Keep going!
 Foreword

Peer education and training is where the action is for young people who
have disabilities and need to develop social skills in order to function suc-
cessfully in the community. The number one reason people with disabili-
ties lose jobs is due to social skill blunders, misunderstanding norms of
work behavior, and inadequate self-advocacy. Research has begun to show
that the most effective social skills training programs involve peer mod-
els.1 Even more effective are social skills training programs involving peer
models and interactive theatre methods similar to the inclusion program
that Lisa Kramer and Judy Freedman Fask have developed and share in
this book.2 This puts them on the cutting edge.
Connecting peer-based education with service learning or community-­
based education is a win/win situation. Most typically developing stu-
dents in high school and college have not interacted a lot with peers who
have disabilities, even in this day and age of educational inclusion. Many
students with special needs spend most of their time in the resource room
and come to a few general education classes, such as gym, music, art, and
maybe a course in the core curriculum at which they excel. Often when
they are included in a core curricular class, they are accompanied by a
para-educator. The typically developing students tend to stay out of the
way because (a) they don’t want to interrupt the para-educator as she is
doing her job and (b) the presence of the para-educator announces loudly
and clearly that this student is “different.” In our society “different” can
quickly become “stigmatized.”
Adults in educational settings tell themselves that “the kids will sort
it out,” in terms of making social connections with each other. This is in

vii
viii FOREWORD

part because they probably feel uncomfortable with the student’s disabil-
ity themselves, and they don’t know what to do to facilitate connections.
Without that adult facilitation, however, those connections are rarely
made, because our culture through media, parents, and everyday interac-
tions sends clear messages to avoid anyone who is stigmatized.
The opposite of stigma is acceptance and value. Social workers Emma
Van der Clift and Norman Kunc discuss the politics of help in their arti-
cle “Hellbent on Helping.” Kunc grew up with severe cerebral palsy and
knows all about being helped by patronizing professionals and ignored by
peers.3 Together Van der Clift and Kunc envision a diversity continuum
that moves from marginalization (stay over there—we don’t want you)
to reform (we’ll accept you, if we can fix you) to tolerance (we’ll put up
with you) to value (everyone belongs and is of equal worth). They place
the responsibility for change on the physical and attitudinal barriers that
have been put up by our institutions. We learn our behaviors from our
institutions, so we need the professionals who run them to take the lead in
creating acceptance and value.
Educators, sociologists, and psychologists have conducted studies to
determine the best methods for moving groups from the stigmatized posi-
tion to the valued one. They have discovered that members of the domi-
nant group (in this case people who are non-disabled) need to change in
three main areas: knowledge, contact, and ongoing positive interactions.4
The combination of CBL and theatre, as well as other arts, provides all
three!
Donna Wong, who researches stigma experienced by people with dis-
ability, stresses that “active facilitation and thoughtful intervention seems
to hold the key to positive social acceptance in the general classroom …
attitude change in children depends on whether the interactions are mean-
ingful and carefully structured.”5 Theatre by its very nature is meaningful
to participants and must be carefully structured; otherwise, chaos would
result. Experiences that have not been carefully facilitated result in either
no attitude change or negative change.6 Working together on an artistic
product can be one of those experiences that positively facilitate change,
and Lisa Kramer and Judy Freedman Fask are expert models for anyone
who wants to learn how.
Another reason why CBL and the arts work so well together is because
the positive contact is experienced in a setting in which the individual(s)
with the disability is treated as an equal of the non-disabled persons.7 This
 FOREWORD ix

is the key to inclusion and leads naturally to the creation of friendships.

Once valued by others, individuals who have disabilities are able to move
into the community with confidence, be hired in jobs, and begin to live
independently. Yes, there is a need for the skills taught by schools and
transition specialists, but if a person does not feel welcomed and wanted,
they will not venture out on their own and take charge of their life actively.
The other wonderful aspect of teaming up CBL and the arts is that as
people with and without disabilities gain confidence, learn to speak up
clearly and effectively, and connect as equals with others, they can become
self-advocates. Later in this book, you will read many stories of how the-
atre transformed students with disabilities from the transition program
and typically developing college students. All developed new skills and
interests in addition to making new friends.
I believe that all people have a right to participate in the arts and in
all areas of life to which they are drawn. Every town needs at least one
Barrier-Free Theatre and many other kinds of barrier-free programs where
all members of the community can work and play together. I encourage
all the readers of this book to take its message to heart and join our quest
to make everyone feel valued and included.

Notes
1. Camilla McMahon, Matthew D. Lerner, and Noah Britton, “Group-­based
Social Skills Interventions for Adolescents with Higher-­Functioning Autism
Spectrum Disorder: A Review and Looking to the Future,” Adolescent
Health, Medicine and Therapeutics, 4 (2013): 23–28.
2. Blythe A. Corbett, Alexandra P. Key, Lydia Qualls, Stephanie Fecteau,
Cassandra Newsom, Catherine Coke, and Paul Yoder, “Improvement in
Social Competence Using a Randomized Trial of a Theatre Intervention for
Children with Autism Spectrum Disorder,” Journal of Autism and
Developmental Disorders, 46 (2016): 658–672.
3. Emma Van der Klift and Norman Kunc, “Hell-bent on Helping:
Benevolence, Friendship, and the Politics of Help.”, n.d., http://www.
broadreachtraining.com/articles/arhellbe.htm.
4. Pheroza Daruwalla and Simon Darcy, “Personal and Societal Attitudes to
Disability,” Annals of Tourism Research, 32: 3 (2005): 549–570.
5. Donna K.P. Wong, “Do Contacts Make a Difference? The Effects of
Mainstreaming on Student Attitudes toward People with Disabilities,”
Research in Developmental Disabilities, 29 (2008): 72.
x FOREWORD

6. Mike Lyons and Robyn Hayes, “Student Perceptions of Persons with

Psychiatric and Other Disorders,” The American Journal of Occupational
Therapy, 47: 6 (1993): 541–548.
7. Pheroza Daruwalla and Simon Darcy, “Personal and Societal Attitudes to
Disability,” Annals of Tourism Research, 32: 3 (2005): 549–570.

June 26, 2016 Sally Bailey

 With Heartfelt Thanks

So many people have influenced and inspired this work, that it would be
impossible to name them all. We couldn’t have done any of this without
each individual who appears in the pages of this book. While we don’t
always name them specifically, please know they have been a critical part
of our learning and this book. We especially appreciate the people who
contributed stories in their own words, or gave us the time to answer
endless questions whenever we asked. We are forever grateful. There are
some people we must name specifically: Anna Jany Nesbitt, a young edi-
tor with a keen eye pushed us to make this work stronger with every
question she asked. Sally Bailey, who gave advice and pep talks whenever
needed. Thanks to our families who supported us through all the craziness
of creating programs and writing about them. Thanks also to the institu-
tions with whom we worked: Worcester State University, Worcester Public
School Transition Program, and The College of the Holy Cross.

xi
 Contributors

This book is about collaboration. For that reason, we felt strongly that we
should include the voices of participants, practitioners, and educators whose
rich experiences influence this work. This includes the voices of some of the col-
lege students who participated in our programs.
Sally Bailey, MFA, MSW, RDT/BCT; Director, Drama Therapy
Program, School of Music, Theatre and Dance, Kansas State University.
(Foreword, Drama Therapy)
Blake Basmajian, The College of the Holy Cross, Class of 2018. (In
My Own Words)
Jacqueline Blanchard, Gallaudet University Student in Social Work.
(My Experience)
Michael Celularo, Director at Stepping Stone Theatre Company. (A
Director’s Perspective)
Stephanie Duprey, Worcester State University, Class of 2016.
(Friendship and Bonding)
Matt Gray, Worcester State University, Class of 2016. (In My Own
Words)
Christopher Ives, Worcester State University, Class of 2015, Graduate
Student at Worcester State University. (Learning Patience)
Joyce Kressler, Former Executive Director of First Night Worcester.
(Transcending Barriers)
Kelsey Lamoureux, Special Projects Coordinator, Worcester Community
Arts Council. (Transition Students in YouthWorks)
Joe Metrano, The College of the Holy Cross, Class of 2018. (In My
Own Words)

xiii
xiv Contributors

Kim Powell, The College of the Holy Cross, Class of 2007. (Art as
Communication)
Maria Rose, Worcester State University, WSU Honors Scholar, Class of
2015. (A Gift)
Jane Rosen, Certified Orientation and Mobility Specialist. (Thoughts
from a Certified Orientation and Mobility Specialist)
Virginia Ryan, Faculty, The College of the Holy Cross. (A Professor’s
Perspective)
 Contents

1 Introduction 1

2 Arts, Transition, and DisABILITY 7

3 Judy Reflects on Transition Laws, Challenges, and History 23

4 Lisa’s Thoughts on Arts, Education, and Social Justice 43

5 Judy’s Thoughts on Arts, Education, and Social Justice 77

6 Creative Collaborations 95

7 A Star Is Born: Reaching One’s True Potential 127

8 Taking the Show on the Road 165

Bibliography183

Index193

xv
 List of Figures

Image 1.1 Making friends 3

Image 2.1 Monster friends  9
Image 3.1 Natacha’s goals 24
Image 4.1 Puppet love with Adam 46
Image 4.2 Judy interprets Cinderfella’s shadow 50
Image 4.3 Roller coaster 59
Image 5.1 Communicating through Sign Language 85
Image 5.2 Friends: Billy, Stephanie, Rebecca 87
Image 6.1 Group sharing 97
Image 6.2 Pass the pulse around a wall 117
Image 7.1 Chris the Lion  128
Image 7.2 Chris’s Letter to Tom Hanks  139
Image 7.3 Sighted guide training with Natacha and Jane 142
Image 7.4 In Natacha’s words 145
Image 7.5 Matt and Rebecca at the Ball 152
Image 7.6 Tap dancing Eddie and Blake  155
Image 8.1 Maria teaches healthy relationships 167
Image 8.2 Book cover for Argentina Book Project 173
Image 8.3 Here at my fingertips, my world ends. Bring your world
closer to me and together, let’s build a world with
a place for everyone 173
Image 8.4 Faces of Friendship 180

xvii
 List of Tables

Table 4.1 The Continuum52

Table 6.1 Vantage points 109

xix
 CHAPTER 1

Introduction

Setting the Stage for Community Collaboration

Creativity. Community. Inspiration. Excitement. These words and more
describe the energy emerging from a table in a local coffee shop on a day
in May 2013 when Judy Freedman Fask and Lisa Kramer met for the first
time to discuss the possibilities of creating a Community-Based Learning
(CBL) project in one of Lisa’s classes at Worcester State University (WSU)
the following fall. Lisa, as adjunct faculty, was scheduled to teach Theatre
for Young Audiences (TYA)—a course she has taught in different for-
mats for many schools. Judy, in a new position as Transition Rehabilitation
Specialist for the Worcester Public Schools (WPS), came with a history
and passion for incorporating CBL pedagogy into student learning. She
wanted to continue her previous work by finding ways to inspire and
encourage students to connect with people in the community. Now was
a perfect opportunity to connect young adults in transition (with whom
she worked) with same-aged peers who were studying at local colleges and
universities; Judy sought faculty collaborators who would share her vision.
Bringing CBL to the TYA class seemed to offer a lot of learning potential
to everyone involved. Lisa knew from experience the power of theatre to
engage people of all backgrounds. While living in Independence, Kansas,
she discovered her love of using theatre to enhance and assist communi-
ties during a drama/visual arts workshop with adults with d ­ evelopmental

© The Author(s) 2017 1

L.A. Kramer, J.F. Fask, Creative Collaborations through
Inclusive Theatre and Community Based Learning, Palgrave
Studies In Play, Performance, Learning, and Development,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-59926-1_1
2 L.A. KRAMER AND J.F. FASK

disabilities. After moving back to Massachusetts, she had been seeking out
opportunities to use the arts as a tool for developing community and shar-
ing stories.1 At the meeting with Judy, however, Lisa recognized that cre-
ating a CBL in her TYA course would not be easy, especially as the class
had been designed (by someone else) to result in a performance for local
elementary school students. “Let me work on this and figure out how to fit
it into my syllabus,” she said to Judy. “I’ll have a plan by the end of July.”
With further discussion and brainstorming, the plan took shape and
began in September 2013. Early in the semester, the transition students
came to the class to meet the university students and see if it would be a
comfortable fit. Then, Lisa spent the next month working with her class
to explore all the important conventions and information surrounding
TYA, while also preparing them to work with the transition students.
Meanwhile, Judy coordinated schedules, finalized plans for who would
participate, recruited the assistants who would attend (and collaborate)
with her group, and discussed creative ideas with Lisa. After those first
weeks, Judy’s students began to attend the TYA class every Thursday to
work with their college-aged peers in the creation of a show that would be
performed for students from a nearby elementary school. Every Tuesday,
Lisa and her TYA class did other course-related work, checked in on prog-
ress, and planned for the next joint session. One of the assignments Lisa
gave her class was to create short puppet shows that they then performed
for the transition students. That day, magic happened, as we discovered
that several of the WPS participants came to life in a new way when they
interacted, many for the first time, with the puppets. That discovery would
influence everything that followed.
In December 2013, nearly 100 students from a nearby elementary
school tumbled into the theatre to see a performance of Animal Jam.2 In
the play, Adam (a transition youth) and his puppet best friend MJ visit a zoo
under the guidance of a magical train conductor named Maggie (a college
student).3 While there, after getting a lesson about appropriate zoo behav-
ior from a very strict zookeeper, they overhear the animals talking about
escaping to visit family in the jungle. The zookeeper follows Adam and MJ
around, scolding them all the time, so the mischievous pair decide to help
the animals escape. The animals all climb on board the magic train and head
to the jungle. They don’t get the warm reception they expect, however,
because all the animals in the jungle are afraid of anyone new and different.
The zookeeper has followed his animals to the jungle and recruits the help
 INTRODUCTION 3

of a dragon (played by two people in a Chinese lion dance costume) to bring

the animals back.4 The jungle animals and the zoo animals join together in a
massive dance-off that ultimately scares the dragon and the zookeeper away.
Everyone celebrates their new-found friendships (Image 1.1).
Pure silliness. Pure magic. The children in the audience, along with
everyone else, loved this play about finding friendship. The children espe-
cially thrilled to the fact that the zookeeper was played by a college student
who was working with them as a student teacher at the time. They knew
he wasn’t really like the strict zookeeper who was mean to the animals and
to Adam. They understood that this was just a play filled with color, music,
dance, and a touch of magic.
The real magic that happened wasn’t in the performance. It lay in the
fact that the college students and the transition students worked together
to create a full production, even though Lisa had originally thought the

Image­­  1.1 Making

friends.
4 L.A. KRAMER AND J.F. FASK

show would most likely be a series of short vignettes or scenes. The magic
could be found in the moment when a student on the autism spectrum,
who had barely spoken to Lisa throughout the process, became the star
of that performance and couldn’t stop talking about it at the celebration
afterward. It was shown in the joyous movements of the Deaf girl with the
monkey puppet on her hand. The magic was revealed when transition stu-
dents and college students exchanged phone numbers, emails, and hugs
after the show was over. It was embedded in the words of Joe, a transition
student who played a magnificent toucan, when he rushed up to Lisa and
said, “I can’t wait to do this again, next semester.”
Sadly, there was no plan for the next semester. But that request led to
Judy and Lisa thinking about new opportunities and new possible ways
to continue this effective way to learn and teach. We have since expanded
this program at WSU to include Lisa’s Creative Dramatics course. But that
is just the beginning of our vision. It is our hope to encourage faculty in
higher education, as well as other people working with distinctive commu-
nities, to explore how collaborations between arts practitioners/educators
and specific community partners can enhance learning on all fronts. While
we mostly talk about theatrical explorations in this book (because that is
what Lisa teaches), Judy will share stories of other art forms where the
same type of magic happens. We recognize the potential for all kinds of
creative CBL courses and encourage readers to develop their own unique
collaborations—inspired by personal talents, open to infinite possibilities
and expanded by imagination.

A Note about Voice

This is our story. In some ways, it is two stories. In some ways it is mul-
tiple stories, as the voices of the participants are just as important as
our own. It is a story written by two individuals: both of whom have
strong opinions and ideas; both of whom can ramble on passionately
about their work. Neither of us were interested in writing an academic
tome that ignores the personal—after all, the basis of this project is the
idea that everyone has a story to share, and that everyone should be
celebrated on the basis of their individual ABILITIES , creativity, and
differences. This also celebrates the power of collaborating with different
communities. The challenge when trying to write a book together is that
our voices and opinions are unique, so throughout these pages you will
 INTRODUCTION 5

find changes of voice. Sometimes we write as “we”, because the ideas or

topics are more general and we are laying a foundation. Sometimes, in
areas where one of us has more expertise, or in those sections where we
come from different perspectives and approaches, we use the first person
“I.” We also include the words of other collaborators, in their own voices.
Throughout the book we clearly label each section so you, the reader,
know whose story is being told and whose voice is being heard.

About This Book

This is not a how-to book. At the end of each chapter we offer some
“Calls to Action!” where we give practical advice and suggestions that
come from what we are learning with each experience and the challenges
we encounter along the way. Yet, we don’t intend this to be a step-
by-­step instruction book.5 That’s not possible for this kind of program-
ming, because each project is going to face unique opportunities and chal-
lenges depending on the collaborators, the communities involved, the
politics of the various organizations, and the goals of the specific program.
What we offer here is a snapshot of our story and the stories of other
people in the hope that it might inspire future collaborations. We both
believe that our worlds and communities can be made better through cre-
ative approaches to education that allow people to work together toward
discovering what connects us all as human beings. Innovative approaches
are particularly important when working with marginal communities and
can be transformative for all parties involved. CBL projects and the arts,
particularly theatre, are simply tools that we encourage people to use.
In Chap. 2, we provide a little background about who we are, a descrip-
tion of other collaborators, and definitions of some of the language used
throughout this book. Chapter 3 goes into some of the specific language
and laws that define transition and transition services. Chapter 4 intro-
duces, from Lisa’s perspective, concepts about arts, education, and the
role theatre has played in social justice and change. It also discusses specific
educational theories and how theatre meets educational goals. Chapter
5 further explores, through Judy’s eyes, the issues of social justice and
how arts can be used to confront and challenge issues of cultural norms,
especially as it applies to disABILITY. Chapter 6 looks at our specific pro-
grams, examining challenges and approaches, as well as describing how
6 L.A. KRAMER AND J.F. FASK

we do what we do in general terms. In Chap. 7 we focus in on the stories

of specific participants in CBL programs (not just our own), because we
believe the evidence of transformation lies in real-life stories. These stories
are told in many different voices, as we all have had insight into our own
experiences. Finally, in Chap. 8, we look at how these CBL projects can
reach beyond the university programming into future projects and col-
laborations. Throughout all the chapters, we include the stories and lived
experiences of many different people who have journeyed into CBL col-
laborations and recognize the importance and value of this work.

Notes
1. This includes the founding of the heArtful Theatre Company, “a company
dedicated to the power of theatre to bring communities together and pro-
vide opportunities for everyone to share the story of their lives,” as well as
workshops through WSU that use theatre as a tool for literacy for English
Language Learners. Judy and Lisa are now in discussion about turning
heArtful into an arts collaborative, which uses all the arts as a means to
promote social justice and strengthen communities. heArtful Theatre
Company, heArtful Theatre, n.d., http://heartfultheatre.org/.
2. The audience also included members of the community, university repre-
sentatives, family, and other students from the Transition Program. We per-
formed to a full house.
3. Adam wanted to name the puppet Michael Jackson, so we shortened it to
MJ.
4. One of the WSU students owned an authentic costume, so we took advan-
tage of it—an example of how inspiration can come from seeking resources
and ideas from all participants. The costume was manipulated by both the
college student who owned it and a transition student.
5. For those who may want more step-by-step instructions about how to work
with specific populations, we provide a list of resources in the bibliography
to help you along the way.
 CHAPTER 2

Arts, Transition, and DisABILITY

Welcome to Camp
“Welcome!” The tall man with a long reddish ponytail and a beard greets a
group of campers to our imaginary camp inside the theatre building with a
big laugh and a hearty smile. Other pretend camp counselors rush up to escort
the group into a giant circle surrounding a tiny fake campfire that has been
set up center stage. A green tent sits nearby tempting anyone who wishes to
enter.
“We are so excited to have you here,” the man says. “My name is Chris and
I am your head counselor. I know we’ve met before, but I think we should
remind each other of our names. I’d like you to say your name, and tell us
what your favorite food is. You could also show us how you eat it. My name
is Chris and I like spaghetti.” He pretends to eat a giant bowl of spaghetti.
The introductions make their way around the circle. Some voices are loud
and confident. Some are shy and hesitant. A few campers sign their answers,
or simply mime eating something and leave the rest to guess. A couple of young
women look a little confused and seem unsure where to focus or what is hap-
pening, so they don’t quite engage. After being reminded that these young
women could not actually see the movement and the miming of activities, one
of the counselors whispers into their ears, describing what different people are
doing with their bodies. The students become more involved.

© The Author(s) 2017 7

L.A. Kramer, J.F. Fask, Creative Collaborations through
Inclusive Theatre and Community Based Learning, Palgrave
Studies In Play, Performance, Learning, and Development,
DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-59926-1_2
8 L.A. KRAMER AND J.F. FASK

“We have a special adventure planned for today,” Chris says. “But first,
have you heard of the monster of Camp Worcester State?”
Murmurs of no come from the crowd, as well as whispers of surprise, and
a few looks of concern.
“Matt, will you tell the story of the monster?” Chris asks.
Counselor Matt draws attention to himself with his deep voice and friendly
smile. He begins the story of the mysterious monster who is rarely seen, but can
sometimes be enticed to visit. “The monster is shy,” he says, “but we might be
able to make it come out if we do some special tasks. If it comes, it might even
bring some gifts for us. Do you want to try it?”
A few campers say, “No,” in fearful voices, but most nod and say, “Yes!”
with enthusiasm.
“We have to entice the monster with things that it likes,” Matt says. “The
story says that it loves music.”
From a distance, the tinkling sounds of a piano start playing. Everyone,
counselors included, looks around in surprise. “Do you hear that?” Matt says,
not missing a beat despite his own astonishment, “Maybe that’s the monster.
Do you see it anywhere?” The campers turn their heads searching for the source
of the sound, but see nothing and the mysterious music stops.1
“Well,” Matt says, “we know it’s here, let’s see if we can get it to come out.
First we have to guess what it might look like. The story says that if we dress up
like the monster, then maybe it will come out to dance with us. Should we try?”
Excited by the mysterious haunting melody, the group enthusiastically
agrees. The camp counselors help everyone move into smaller groups, who
then wander around to another part of the camp.2 There they discover mask-­
making supplies lying in colorful piles on tables. Each camper and each coun-
selor receives a half mask, along with access to feathers, buttons, foam, and
fuzzy balls—all materials chosen for variety, color, and texture so even those
who struggle with vision could discover something exciting to wear. The next
20 minutes or so are filled with the frenzied activity and creative chaos of
designing monster looks to entice the unknown entity (Image 2.1).
As individuals finish their mask-making task, they then return to the
main camp and move onto the next activity. “The monster loves music,” Matt
reminds them. “We need to create a song and dance and maybe it will want
to join us.”
In small groups, the masked artists work together to create a song and a
dance that might be interesting enough to entice a creature nobody has ever
seen. Suddenly, from the distance the monster roars.
“Did you hear that?” Camp Director Lisa calls out.
 ARTS, TRANSITION, AND DISABILITY 9

Image 2.1 Monster friends.

The monster roars again.

Head Counselor Chris refocuses everyone. “Maybe if we invite the monster
to dance with us it will appear. Let’s say ‘Come dance!’ on the count of three.”
“One … two … three … “
“COME DANCE!” The entire group yells in sync.
A four-legged, two-headed monster appears out of nowhere. Each head has
short dark hair, and wears a different mask. Its body is draped with a large
white cloth. “Roar!”
A few campers scream. A camp counselor moves closer to anyone who exhib-
its concern, giving them support.
Everyone else laughs in delight.
In a strange double voice—neither male nor female—the monster speaks:
“Show me your dances.”
The groups share their work. The monster laughs, applauds, and says in
its unusual double-voiced way, “Thank you for creating songs and dances for
me. I have something for you.”
The monster moves hesitantly with its four-legged gait (with mismatched
legs) while reaching under the mysterious cape that covers its body, to pull
out small gifts for all the campers. As each camper receives his/her gift, they
smile, say or sign “Thank you,” and then beam as they show off their prize to
anyone nearby.
10 L.A. KRAMER AND J.F. FASK

Chris points out that it is almost time for camp to end. “But maybe we can
all have one last dance with the monster.”
“Yay!” Everyone says. Music plays over speakers, and we dance.

Meet the Collaborators: Similar Approaches,

Different Perspectives
Judy Freedman Fask, Transition Rehabilitation Specialist
Teaching in higher education institutions provided the perfect opportu-
nity for me, a professional in working with d/Deaf and DeafBlind com-
munities, to explore different teaching pedagogies. I made deliberate
connections between the traditional approach of learning through text,
lecture, and discussion with personal experiences outside of the classroom.
My approach comes from a grassroots mindset where personally meeting
with the people in diverse communities is the starting place. From there,
I believe collaborators can create programs that truly serve both specific
community needs and the goals within higher education institutions. This
approach to learning has been an integral part of my pedagogy in my 17
years at The College of the Holy Cross, where I was the director of Deaf
Studies. I provided hands-on experience for the students in authentic
learning environments with members of the Deaf community. Coupling
the liberal arts philosophy with genuine, collaborative community engage-
ment gives rise to a greater potential for societal impact and social change.3
Critical to the philosophy of CBL is the fact that student AND community
relationships are mutually beneficial, reciprocal, and maintain a coequal
power throughout interactions and collaborations.
Many of the community collaborations and CBL partnerships I devel-
oped included various forms of the arts. I started with asking individual
college students about their interests and skills and often those interests
were arts based. From there, I simply expanded the college students’
world to include Deaf individuals. I challenged them to consider ways to
show their passion using a different and new language, American Sign
Language (ASL) These new projects offered to and through my college
students gave members in the Deaf community the opportunity to access
programs in their native language of ASL. These programs brought Deaf
and non-deaf people together through a common activity, sharing skills,
expertise, language and communication. Teachers became students and
 ARTS, TRANSITION, AND DISABILITY 11

students became teachers. Another valuable outcome was that we enabled

hearing families to see their deaf children fully engaged in social settings,
where they proudly shared identity, language, and culture with other com-
munity members.
Throughout my career, I have recognized and valued the advantages
and reasons to incorporate Service Learning (SL) or Community-Based
Learning (CBL) into an academic curriculum for college students. It
remains important to me not to follow the historical trends of CBL that
focus solely or heavily on outcomes for university and college students’
goals, but to encourage and ensure there is opportunity for community
voices to be heard as well. These programs need to benefit everyone, not
just college participants. Reciprocal partnerships take time to develop but
can have impact in truly meaningful ways that expand society’s under-
standing of humanity.
When I moved from the college environment to my current position as
Transition Rehab Specialist, I realized that I could continue this powerful
CBL pedagogy—now including the community voice of diverse young
adults in the transition program (people who have a wide spectrum of
both abilities and challenges). In my position as Transition Rehabilitation
Specialist, I work with colleagues to implement a variety of methods and
strategies to support the full participation of students with disABILITIES
for life after high school, including college and career awareness, explora-
tion and immersion in social and recreational activities within their com-
munities, independent living skills, and travel training.
At Holy Cross I was the faculty member at a college, looking for
­community partners with whom I could collaborate. In my new position
I became the “community partner” looking to connect with faculty in
various disciplines. This search led me to connecting with Dr. Lisa Kramer,
who (among other things) teaches in the Visual and Performing Arts
department at WSU.

Dr. Lisa A. Kramer, Theatre Educator and Artist

I am a theatre director, educator, applied theatre practitioner, social change
advocate, and writer who has spent years teaching/creating in a variety of
departments and theatres. My pedagogical approach to learning is in many
ways similar to Judy’s, because I believe that people learn through doing
and participating, not just reading about the world.
12 L.A. KRAMER AND J.F. FASK

At the beginning of the collaboration with Judy, my understanding of

SL or CBL was incomplete because of past experiences. Many years prior
to meeting Judy, I worked at a college that wanted to establish more SL
courses and offered compensation to any faculty who developed one. I
had already been teaching several classes in theatre for young audiences,
creative dramatics, and puppetry which incorporated projects outside the
college classroom, including elementary school students dealing with their
reactions to 9/11, an anti-drug program in a school, a puppetry pro-
gram to explore creativity in grades 1–3, and a final production which
invited area schools to come to a devised performance and interact with
the performers. Because each of these projects served a purpose beyond
the theatrical experience of my college students—one that helped explore
topics and issues important to the community participants—I assumed the
courses suited the requirements for SL classes and submitted them. Much
to my surprise, I was told that my courses were not SL classes because the
projects were not initiated by the community but by myself and my group.
This confused me, because in its very nature theatre in education or the-
atre for social change incorporates the concept of learning by doing and
“employs civic engagement, keeps in mind the connections between the-
ory and practice, and requires self-reflexive consciousness in the context of
[the participants] reciprocal relationships in art-making.”4 One cannot use
theatre or drama techniques without experiencing the value of collabora-
tion, community, and working together to achieve common goals, which
can include the creation of a performance, but also larger goals related to
building community and promoting social change.
However, from that point on I simply continued to do my work and create
rich performance opportunities for my students in a variety of educational
settings, without worrying about labeling my work as service learning. My
goals as a teacher include helping people find the connections between the
material they are learning and larger issues within their lives. While I often
teach students who are simply taking courses to fulfill arts requirements
in a liberal arts curriculum, I, like Judy, attempt to show them how their
learning intersects with their lives, their communities, and their curriculum.
Students in my classes are encouraged to bring their own interests and skills
into their projects, thus connecting their science degrees with the physics
of scenic design, or their business degrees with understanding theatre as a
business. In TYA many of my students come from degree programs where
service is a component; where the college students plan to go out and work
within different communities in a variety of capacities. Cathryn Berger Kay
writes in The Complete Guide to Service Learning:
 ARTS, TRANSITION, AND DISABILITY 13

Whatever is included in your definition of community, students engaging

in service learning will come to know that community develops and builds
through interactions, reciprocal relationships, and knowledge of people,
places, organizations, governments and systems. Through service learning,
the often elusive idea of ‘community’ takes shape and has a more tangible
meaning for all involved. Recognizing and becoming active in a commu-
nity builds a true foundation of civic responsibility that lasts well beyond
school years.5

Based on this aspect of service learning, I often incorporated SL compo-

nents into many of my courses without knowing them. Yet, I never inten-
tionally designed a course with specific SL components in mind—until, of
course, I met Judy.

About the Other Collaborators

While we are the guiding forces behind these collaborations, we are by no
means the most crucial players. The projects simply wouldn’t exist without
the students from Lisa’s classes and the students from transition programs.
In addition, many others have contributed time and energy to this pro-
gram on different levels: transition specialists, Certified Orientation and
Mobility Specialists, instructional assistants, volunteers from the consor-
tium of colleges in the area (students not registered in the class from WSU
and other colleges), Best Buddies, theatrical technicians, teachers, parents,
Audio Journal,6 alumna, and school administrators. In fact, the vast array
of people who have interacted with this program emphasizes the value
of CBL programming to the entire community, as well as the interest in
and dedication to this kind of programming. It also, however, sometimes
makes the work more complex as we have to deal with the bureaucracy
of the individual agencies involved as well as the various personalities and
skill levels.
The most important collaborators are the students themselves, from
both programs, because their work and commitment inspire and guide all
of the major choices we make. While each incarnation of the project has
had numerous configurations and diverse participants, a general overview
of the collaborators can be broken down in this way:

• Undergraduate theatre majors

• Undergraduate theatre majors with a focus on education
• Undergraduate education majors
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 “That’ll have to do,” he thought. “It doesn’t really matter it being a
bit short.”
He poured himself out a cupful of hot water for shaving. It was
one of the advantages of living alone that he could shave in the
kitchen if he liked.
Curiously enough he paused after pouring out the water.
“Shall I or shall I not?” he pondered. He examined his chin in the
mirror. “I suppose I’ll do,” he decided, “it won’t be noticed in the gas-
light.”
Then he saw the water he had poured out.
“Oh, well,” he thought, “perhaps I will, after all....”
He took out his razor, one of the old-fashioned kind, stropped it
carefully and lathered himself.
While he was shaving he thought: “I wish I hadn’t told that boy
Jones I’d send him to Clotters on Monday morning. Clotters won’t
like it much....”
Suddenly, and seemingly without any premeditation, he thrust the
soapy razor into his throat, just above the windpipe....

§7
At the Duke Street Methodist Schoolroom a select audience of
eleven waited until half-past eight for Mr. Weston to deliver his paper
on “Shakespeare.”
“Perhaps he’s ill,” suggested Miss Picksley.
“No, he’s not, because he was at school this afternoon. My
brother’s in his class,” said one of the Gunter girls.
“Where does he live?”
“Kitchener Road ... 24 or 25 ... I forget which.”
“Well, it’s not far away. Somebody might go round and see. He
may have forgotten all about it.”
 “I’ll go,” said Mr. Sly, the treasurer.
“I’ll come too,” said Miss Picksley, who had designs on Mr. Sly.
“We’ll all come,” chorused the Gunter girls.
“No, don’t,” said Miss Picksley. “We don’t want a crowd. It doesn’t
look nice.”
Through the refuse of a Friday evening’s marketing Mr. Sly and
Miss Picksley walked to Kitchener Road. They did not mind the walk
They did not even go the quickest way.
At No. 26 old father Jopson was standing at the front gate with
his monstrous goitre hanging down.
“It must be 24,” said Mr. Sly, “because this is 26.”
“Yes,” agreed Miss Picksley. She walked up to the porch of No.
24 and knocked.
“Does Mr. Weston live here?” enquired Mr. Sly.
Jopson nodded profoundly.
“He must be out,” said Miss Picksley.
“Do you know if he’s out?” enquired Mr. Sly.
Jopson raised his eyes sagaciously.
“’E’s in, ’cos I seed ’im come in couple ’v ars ago, an’ I bin ’ere or
in the fron’-rum ever since.”
“Perhaps he’s in the garden.”
“’E don’t go in the gawden nardays.”
“Lives by himself, doesn’t he?”
“Yus, lives by ’imself.”
“I’m sure he must be out,” said Miss Picksley. As unostentatiously
as possible she peeped through the letter-box. (She was not quite
certain whether this was really a ladylike proceeding.)
“’E ain’t aout, ’relse I should ’a seen ’im go aout.”
 “His hat and coat are on the hall-stand, too.... Perhaps he’s ill.”
“Try again. Maybe he was in the garden and didn’t hear the first
knocks.”
They tried again, but to no purpose. Eventually they went away in
the direction of Cubitt Lane.
“Nine o’clock,” said Miss Picksley. “Surely nobody’ll be waiting in
the schoolroom. I don’t think it’s much good going back.”
“Nor do I,” said Mr. Sly. “In fact, we might go for a walk....”
Miss Picksley did not object, so they strolled past the King’s Arms
into the Forest and forgot all about Mr. Weston and his promised
paper on William Shakespeare....

§8
On Saturday morning at half-past nine the rent-man came to No.
24, Kitchener Road to collect his weekly seven-and-sixpence. His
customary treble knock begat no reply. Simultaneously he noticed
the milk-can on the step. It was full, and the conclusion was that Mr.
Weston was still in bed.
Never as long as the rent-man could remember (and that was a
very long time) had the household at No. 24 been asleep at 9.30 on
a Saturday morning.
He went his rounds and returned to No. 24 on his way home
about ten past one. The milk-can was still there on the step. Its
solitude was now shared by a loaf of bread which the baker had left.
Receiving no answer to his knocks, the rent-man went to No. 26.
There the garrulous Mrs. Jopson recounted the visit of the two
callers on the previous evening.
“They knocked an’ knocked an’ knocked, but couldn’t git no anser
... an’ my ’usband swears ’e ’adn’t seen ’im go aout.”
Eventually it was decided that the rent-man should climb over the
fence in Jopson’s back garden and effect an entrance into No. 24 by
the back way. Jopson, morbidly curious, was to go with him.
You picture this strange couple standing in the tiny back scullery
of No. 24, Jopson with his huge face-monstrosity all mottled and pink
and shining with sweat, and the rent-man sleek and dapper,
fountain-pen behind his ear, receipt-book stuffed in his side pocket.
“Gow on strite through,” said Jopson thickly, “it leads inter the
kitchin.”
Slowly and almost apprehensively the rent-man turned the
handle....
 CHAPTER VIII
POST-MORTEM
§1
IT seemed to Catherine the most curious thing in the world that she
should be sitting with George Trant inside a taxi. There was no light
inside, and only the distant glimmer of London came in through the
window. All was dim and dark and shadowy. Yet somewhere
amongst these shadows sat George Trant. Perhaps he was thinking
that somewhere amongst those shadows sat she, Catherine Weston.
A voice said out of the shadows: “We shan’t be long now.”
Catherine said: “How far are we going?”
“You’re going home ... to your lodgings, that is.... You fainted, I
suppose you know....”
“Did I?” And she thought: “He killed himself out of loneliness. He
couldn’t live without me. I am the cause, I am the reason.”
“Feeling all right now?”
“Oh yes ... must have been the excitement.”
“Probably.” His voice was cold, unsympathetic. She felt that he
was deliberately looking away from where he thought she was.
“You needn’t take me all the way, you know. I can walk from the
Ridgeway corner.”
“I shall take you all the way,” he said crisply.
With strange instinct she sensed his antagonism.
“I believe you’re angry with me,” she said. Yet all the while she
was thinking: “I suppose there’ll be an inquest and a big fuss and all
that. And the furniture and stuff will have to be sold.”
No answer.
“You are,” she repeated, and was surprised by her own
persistence. After all, she didn’t care twopence whether he was
angry with her or not. Only she would have been gratified if he were
angry with her. It was something to come into a man’s life enough to
make him angry. And it was rather an amusing pastime, this flirting
with George Trant.
“Perhaps I am,” he said coldly.
“Why?” It would interest her to know why. At any rate she might
as well know why.
“You’ve disappointed me.”
That was all. It satisfied her. He had evidently been building
ideals around her. He had dreamed dreams in which she had been
epic and splendid and magnificent. He had thought of her sufficiently
for her to have the power of disappointing him. She was gratified.
After all, she did not like him, so there was no reason why she
should mind disappointing him. And he had paid her the subtle
compliment of being disappointed with her.
She did not particularly want to know how she had disappointed
him. Yet the conversation seemed incomplete without the question:
“In what way?”
She could feel him turning round to face her.
“Various ways,” he said vaguely, but his tone seemed to invite her
to pursue the subject. For that very reason she kept silent. It was not
a matter of sufficient importance for her to ask the same question
twice over. And if he did want her to repeat her question, that was all
the more reason for her not doing so.
After a moment’s silence he said: “You’ve changed a good deal
since I last knew you.”
“Yes, haven’t I?” There was an almost triumphant jauntiness in
her voice.
 “And you haven’t changed for the better, either,” he went on.
“That’s what you say.”
“Precisely. That’s what I say.” He was trying to be sarcastic, yet
she knew that he was feeling acutely miserable. There was
something in his voice that told her he was feeling acutely miserable.
And she had no pity. She was even exhilarated. He was miserable
about her. In some way she was invested with the power of making
him miserable.
“Oh, I can’t tell you——” he began bitterly, and stopped.
A queer thrill went down her spine. For the first time in her life
she was conscious of the presence of passion in another person. It
was quite a novel experience, yet it called to mind that scene in the
Duke Street Methodist Schoolroom when she and Freddie McKellar
had come to blows.... A flash of realization swept over her. He was in
love with her. He was really in love with her. She had so often
wondered and thought and speculated, and now she knew. His voice
had become transfigured, so to speak, out of passion for her. What a
pity he could not see her hair! She did not care for him one little bit.
She knew that now. She had not been quite certain before, but now,
in the very moment of realizing his love of her, she thought: “How
funny, I believe I really dislike him.... I don’t even want to flirt with him
again.”
Yet she was immensely gratified that he had paid her the terrific
compliment of falling in love with her.
A sort of instinct warned her that she should deflect the
conversation into other channels. She was immensely interested in
this curious phenomenon, yet she feared anti-climax. He might try to
kiss her and grope round in the dark searching for her. That would
be anti-climax. And also (this came as a sudden shaft of realization)
she did not want him to kiss her. Many a time of late she had
thought: “What shall I do if he kisses me?” She had resigned herself
to the possibility that one day he might kiss her. She had been
annoyed at his dalliance. “I wish to goodness he’d do it, if he’s going
to,” had been her frequent thought, and she had provoked him
subtly, cunningly, deliberately.... Now it came to her as an
unwelcome possibility. She did not in the least desire him to kiss her.
She knew she would actively dislike it if he did.
“Getting chilly,” she remarked nonchalantly, and she knew how
such an observation would grate upon him. She was fascinated by
this new miraculous power of hers to help or to hurt or to torture.
Every word she said was full of meaning to him: talking to him was
infinitely more subtle than ordinary conversation. It was this subtlety
that partly fascinated her. For instance, when she said, “Getting
chilly,” she meant, “We’ll change the subject. I know what you’re
driving at, and I don’t like it. It doesn’t please me a bit.” And what
was more, she knew that he would interpret it like that, and that he
would feel all those feelings which the expansion of her remark
would have aroused.
“I’ll shut the window,” he said, and did so.
It was so subtle, this business, that his remarks, too, could be
interpreted. For instance, his words, “I’ll shut the window,” meant
really, “Is that so? Well, I guessed as much. You’re utterly heartless. I
shall have to resign myself to it, anyway. So, as you suggest, we’ll
change the subject.”
The taxi turned into the Bockley High Street.
Catherine was like a child with a new toy. And this toy was the
most intricate, complicated, and absorbingly interesting toy that had
ever brought ecstasy to its possessor. How strange that he should
be in love with her! How marvellous that there should be something
strange and indefinable in her that had attracted something strange
and indefinable in him!
And she thought, in spasms amidst her exhilaration: “Probably
Ransomes will sell the furniture for me.... He killed himself for me.
I’m the reason....”
It tickled her egoism that he should have done so. He must have
done so. It could only have been that.
Here was George Trant, head over heels in love with her. And
here was her father, stupid, narrow-minded, uncompromising bigot,
yet committing suicide because she had run away from home. She
preferred to regard herself as a runaway rather than as a castaway.
Truly she was developing into a very marvellous and remarkable
personage!...

§2
As she entered the side door of No. 14, Gifford Road at the
improper hour of three a.m., the thin voice of Mrs. Carbass called
down the stairs: “That you, Miss Weston?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a telegraph for you on the table....”
“Righto!” How jaunty! How delightfully nonchalant! As if one were
used to receiving telegrams! As if one were even used to arriving
home at three a.m.!
Catherine turned the tap of the gas, which had been left burning
at a pin-point in the basement sitting-room. Her hand must have
been unsteady, for she turned it out. That necessitated fumbling for
matches....
The telegram was addressed to the Upton Rising Cinema, and
had been handed in at Bockley Post Office some twelve hours
before. It ran:
Father had accident. Come at once.—may.
Now who was May?
After much cogitation Catherine remembered an Aunt May, her
mother’s sister, who lived at Muswell Hill. Catherine had seen her but
once, and that was on the occasion of her mother’s funeral. She had
a vague recollection of a prim little woman about fifty, with a high-
necked blouse and hair done up in a knob at the back.
Catherine decided to go as soon as possible the following day.
She went quietly to bed, but found it impossible to sleep. She was
strangely exhilarated. She felt like a public-school boy on the eve of
the breaking-up morning. New emotions were in store for her, and
she, the epicure, delighted in new and subtle emotions. Yet even
with her exhilaration there was a feeling of doubt, of misgiving, of
uneasiness as to the nature of her own soul. Was she really
heartless? How was it she had never grieved at her mother’s death?
Try as she would, she could not detect in her feelings for her father
anything much more than excitement, curiosity, amazement, even in
a kind of way admiration, at what he had done. She felt he had done
something infinitely bigger than himself. For the first time in her life
she felt towards him impersonally, as she might have done towards
any stranger: “I should like to have known that man.”
The exact significance of her attitude towards George Trant came
upon her. She was playing with him. She knew that. It was not so
much in revenge for what had happened long before; it was from
sheer uncontrollable ecstasy at wielding a new and
incomprehensible power. She would have played ruthlessly with any
man who had been so weak and misguided as to fall in love with her.
She knew that perfectly well. Therefore it was a good thing the man
was George Trant, for at least in his case she might conceivably
justify herself. And yet she knew that justifying herself had really
nothing at all to do with the matter; she knew that there was in her
some mysterious impulse that prompted her to do and to say things
quite apart from any considerations of justice or justification. Cruel?
Yes, possibly.
She pondered.
No. She was not cruel. If she heard a cat mewing in the street
she would scarcely ever pass it by. A child crying filled her with
vague depression. She was not cruel. But she was immensely,
voraciously curious, a frantic explorer of her own and other people’s
emotions, a ruthless exploiter of dramatic possibilities. She had not
developed these traits by reading novels or seeing plays or any such
exterior means. They were inherent in herself.
Suddenly she remembered the note that had been given her that
evening. By the light of a candle she sat up in bed and tore open the
thin, purple-lined envelope.
 She read:
dear madam,
Will you come and see me to-morrow (Sunday) at three p.m.,
“Claremont,” the Ridgeway, Upton Rising?—Yrs., etc.,
emil razounov.
Razounov!
She actually laughed, a little silver ripple which she immediately
stifled on reflecting that Mrs. Carbass slept in the room below.
Razounov!
Truly she was developing into a very marvellous and remarkable
personage! ...

§3
The door of No. 24, Kitchener Road was opened by Mrs. Jopson.
“Do come in,” she began effusively. “I’ve jest bin clearin’ up a
bit....” Then she added mysteriously: “Of course, they’ve took ’im
away....”
Nothing had seemingly changed in the interior aspect of the
house. Her father’s overcoat and bowler hat hung sedately as ever
upon the bamboo hall-stand. The Collard and Collard piano
presented its usual yellow grin as she looked in through the parlour
door. Catherine could not explain this yellow grin: there had been
something in the instrument’s fretwork front with the faded yellow silk
behind that had always suggested to her a demoniac leer. Now it
seemed to be leering worse than ever.... The morning sunlight struck
in through the drawn Venetian blinds and threw oblique shadows
over the grin. Every article in that room Catherine knew almost
personally. Even the unhorticultural flowers on the carpet were
something more to her than a mere pattern: they were geographical,
they held memories, they marked the topography of her earliest
days. And the mantelpiece was full of memories of seaside holidays.
A present from Southend, from Margate, from Felixstowe, a
photograph of Blackpool Tower framed in red plush, an ash-tray with
the Folkestone coat-of-arms upon it....
Mrs. Jopson related the story of the tragedy in careful detail. She
revelled in it as a boy may revel in a blood-and-thunder story. She
emphasized the mystery that surrounded the motives of the tragedy.
He had been getting livelier again. Everybody was noticing that. He
had been seen smoking his pipe in the Forest on a Sunday morning
with the complacency of one to whom life is an everlasting richness.
He had started taking out library books from the Carnegie library. He
had even had friends in his house—presumably colleagues from the
Downsland Road Council School. And he had bought a
gramophone. That was the strangest thing of all, perhaps. What on
earth did he want with a gramophone? At one time the gramophone
had been his pet aversion. All music bored him, but the sound of a
gramophone used to call forth diatribes against the degeneracy of
the modern world.... And yet it was there, in the tiny front parlour,
with its absurdly painted tin horn sticking up in the air and a record
lying flat on the circular platform. The record was one of a recent and
not particularly brilliant ragtime. Catherine, accustomed
professionally to such things, knew it well. And Mrs. Jopson said
they had heard that ragtime night after night since he had bought the
gramophone. Sometimes it was played over and over again. Really,
Mr. Jopson had thought of complaining, only he did not wish to
interfere with Mr. Weston’s efforts to liven himself up....
When Mrs. Jopson departed and left Catherine alone in the
familiar house, the atmosphere changed. The very furniture seemed
charged with secrets—secrets concerning the manner in which Mr.
Weston had spent his evenings. Whether he had gone out much, or
read books or merely moped about. Only the gramophone seemed
anxious to betray its information, and the tin horn, cocked up at an
absurdly self-confident angle, had the appearance of declaring:
“Judge from me what sort of a man he was. I was nearly the last
thing he troubled about. I am the answer to one at least of his
cravings.” From the gramophone Catherine turned to the writing-
desk. That at any rate guarded what it knew with some show of
modesty. It was full of papers belonging to Mr. Weston, but they all
seemed to emphasize the perfect normality of his life. Algebra
papers marked and unmarked, catalogues of educational book
publishers, odd cuttings from newspapers, notes from parents asking
that children should be allowed to go home early, printed lists of
scholarship candidates, and so forth. Everything to show that Mr.
Weston had gone on living pretty much as he had been accustomed.
Everything to make it more mysterious than ever why he should
suddenly cut his throat while shaving. Catherine was puzzled. She
had been constructing a grand tragedy round this pitifully
insignificant man; under the stimulating influence of her own
imagination she had already begun to sympathize; doubtless if her
imagination had discovered anything substantial to feed on she
might have ended by passionate affection for her own dead father.
Several times recently she had been on the verge of tears, not for
him personally, but out of vague sympathy with the victim of a
poignant tragedy. For to her it did indeed seem a poignant tragedy
that a man so weak, so fatuous as he was should be left entirely
alone at a time when he most needed the companionship of
someone stronger. She did not in the least regret leaving him. That
was inevitable. He wanted to boss the show. He was so pitifully
weak, so conscious of weakness that he manufactured a crisis rather
than yield on what he regarded as a crucial point. Afterwards, no
doubt, he had regretted his hastiness. Yet that strange interview on
the train to Liverpool Street seemed incapable of being fitted in....
Catherine had often thought of him sorrowing, regretting, mourning.
She had regarded his suicide as a tragic confirmation of his misery.
And now the interior of his writing-desk seemed to say: “Oh, he was
much the same—you’d scarcely have noticed any difference in him.”
And the gramophone chuckled and declared: “As a matter of fact the
old chap was beginning to have rather a good time....”
In a drawer beneath the desk she discovered his pocket diaries.
Every night before retiring it had been his custom to fill a space an
inch deep and two inches across with a closely written pencilled
commentary on the day’s events. For ten, twelve, fifteen—perhaps
twenty years he had done this. Catherine turned over the pages of
one of them at random. They contained such items as: “Sweet peas
coming up well. Shall buy some more wire-netting for them....
Clotters away at a funeral. Did his registers for him.... Gave paper on
‘Tennyson’ to Mutual Impr. Soc. Have been asked to speak at Annual
Temperance Social....” Nearly all the entries were domestic, or
connected with Mr. Weston’s labours in the school, the chapel or the
garden. Catherine searched anxiously for any mention of herself.
There were not many. Sometimes a chance remark such as: “C.
came with me to chapel ...” or “C. out to tea.” And once the strange
entry: “C. been misbehaving. But I think L. knows the right way to
manage her.” (L. was, of course, Laura, his wife.) ...
Catherine looked up the entry for November 17th, the day on
which she had left Kitchener Road. It ran: “Clotters away again this
morning. Had to take IVa in mensuration. Feel very tired. Cold wind.
Did not go to night-school.”
That was all! No mention of her!
And on the day he met her in the train to Liverpool Street he
wrote: “Warm spring sort of day. Went to Ealing to see Rogers.
Rogers got a job under the L.C.C. Two boys and a girl. Mrs. R. rather
theatrical....” And in the corner, all cramped up, as if he had stuck it
in as a doubtful after-thought: “Met C. in train to L’pool St. Seems
well enough.”
Grudging, diffident, self-reproachful, sardonic, that remark
—“Seems well enough.” With the emphasis no doubt on the
“seems.”
Lately the entries had been getting more sprightly.
“Met Miss Picksley to-day. Promised her a paper on W.
Shakespeare for the Mut. Impr. Soc....” “Walked to High Wood after
chapel. Beautiful moonlight. Saw motor-bus collision in B. High St.
coming back....” “Bought gramophone sec. hand off Clayton. £2 10.
Like a bit of music. No piano now, of course....”
“Of course.”
Catherine was immensely puzzled by that entry. She realized its
pathos, its tragic reticence, its wealth of innuendo, yet she could not
conceive his feelings when setting it down. For he had never taken
any pleasure in her “strumming,” as he called it. He had accused her
of interrupting his work. He had said: “Not quite so much noise,
please. Shut both doors....” And sometimes he had hinted darkly: “I
don’t know whether it’s you or the piano, but——” And yet he had
missed those piano noises. Vaguely, perhaps almost unconsciously,
yet sufficiently to make him conquer a carefully nurtured hatred of
the gramophone. The gramophone, viewed in the light of this new
discovery, was the tangible, incontrovertible evidence of his sense of
loss. He had missed her. He had been lonely. He had wanted her to
come back. And because of that he had bought a gramophone.
Catherine felt the presence of tragedy. Yet the ingredients were
all wrong. Gramophone buying, even in the most extravagant
circumstances, does not lend itself to sophistication. And yet, that
gramophone—absurd, insignificant, farcical though its presence was
—was the evidence of tragedy. Once more Catherine’s melodramatic
ideals crumbled. Her artistic sense was hurt by the deep significance
of that gramophone. She felt a gramophone had no right to be the
only clue she had to the tragedy of her own father. She felt
humiliated. And then for a swift moment a passion swept over her.
The false ideals collapsed into ruins, the sham sentiment, no less a
sham because it was not the sham sentiment of other people, the
morbid seeking after emotional effect, the glittering pursuit of
dramatic situations, tumbled into dust and were no longer worth
while. Nothing was left in her save a sympathy that was different
from anything she had previously called sympathy, something that
overwhelmed her like a flood. It was a pleasurable sensation, this
sympathy, and afterwards she tried to analyse the sweet agony it
had wrought in her. But at the time she did not realize either its
pleasure or its pain, and that is the truest testimony that it was
something more real and sincere than she had felt before. Tears
welled up in her eyes—tears that she did not strive either to summon
or to repress, tears that were the natural, spontaneous outpouring of
something in her that she knew nothing about. She did not think in
her egoistical, self-analysing way: “What a strange emotion I am
experiencing!” She thought kaleidoscopically of her childhood and
girlhood, and of one particular evening when her father had crept
into her room at night and asked her to kiss him. It was terrible to
remember that she had replied: “Oh, go away! ...” Terrible! All her life
it seemed to her that her attitude towards him had been—“Oh, go
away! ...” And now he had gone away out of her reach for ever. She
sat down in front of the writing-desk with the diary in front of her and
cried. She cried passionately, as a child who is crying because by his
own irrevocable act something has been denied him. She bowed her
head in her hands and gave herself up to an orgy of remorse. She
was truly heartbroken.
For a little while.
The transience of her brokenheartedness may be gauged by the
fact that on her way home she was strangely elated by a single
thought. That thought—occurring to her some half-way down the
Ridgeway—was begotten of her old ruthless habit of self-analysis.
“I’m not heartless,” she told herself. “I can’t be. Nobody could have
acted as I did who hadn’t got a heart. I believe I’ve got as much heart
as anybody, really....”
She was rather proud of the tears she had shed.... Delicious to
have such proof that she was a human being! Reassuring to find in
herself the essential humanities she had at times doubted.
Comforting to think that tragedy could move her to sympathy that
was more than merely æsthetic.... Splendid to know that deep down
in her somewhere there was a fount of feeling which she could not
turn off and on at will like a water-main....
 CHAPTER IX
NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH
§1
“CLAREMONT,” the Ridgeway, was a corner detached house well
set back from the road. A high evergreen hedge impeded the view
from the footpath, and a curving carriage drive overhung with
rhododendron bushes hid all suggestion of a house until the last
possible moment. Then all that you saw was a tiny porch and a
panorama of low-hanging eaves, diamond window-panes and
russet-brown roofs of immense steepness. A telephone bracket
affixed to one of the rafters and an electric bell in the porch
convinced you that all this parade of antiquarianism was really the
most aggressive modernity. A motor-garage, suitably disguised,
stood at one side of the house. Behind was a vista of tennis-courts,
conservatories, and an Italian pergola.
Beneath the tiny porch in the middle of a hot Sunday afternoon
Catherine paused and pressed the button of the bell. She was
excited. Her visit savoured of the miraculous. This was the house of
the famous Emil Razounov The famous Emil Razounov had
arranged this appointment to meet her. She was actually ringing the
bell of Emil Razounov’s house. In another minute she and Emil
Razounov would be face to face.
A maid opened the door. “What name, please?” she asked pertly,
and Catherine replied.
Catherine passed into a wide hall, furnished with all sorts of
queer furniture that she contrasted mentally with the bamboo hall-
stand and the circular barometer that had graced the hall of No. 24,
Kitchener Road. At one side a door was half open, and through this
Catherine was ushered into what was apparently the front room of
the house.
It was a long, low-roofed apartment, with dark panelling along the
walls and rafters across the ceiling. The furniture was sparse, but
bore signs of opulence: there were several huge leather armchairs
and a couple of settees. Apart from these there was nothing in the
room save a small table littered with music in manuscript, and a full-
size grand piano. At first Catherine thought the room was
unoccupied, but two winding coils of smoke rising upwards from two
of the armchairs—the backs of which were towards her—seemed to
proclaim the presence of men.
“Miss Weston,” announced the maid, and closed the door behind
her.
One of the coils of smoke gyrated from the perpendicular. This
was the preliminary to a slow creaking of one of the armchairs. A
figure rose from the depths, and its back view was the first that
Catherine saw of it. It was tall, attired in a light tweed jacket, grey
flannel trousers, and carpet slippers of a self-congratulatory hue.
Altogether, it was most disreputable for a Sabbath afternoon. It was
difficult to recognize in this the spruce, well-groomed man of the
world who had pushed his way into the Forest Hotel on the previous
night. Yet Catherine did recognize him, and was rather astonished at
her own perception in so doing. He faced her with the graceless
langour of one who has just got out of bed at an early hour. Yet in his
extreme ungainliness perhaps there was a certain charm. And as for
his face—Catherine decided that it was not only lacking in positive
good looks, but was also well endowed with extremely negative
characteristics. To begin with, the lie of his features was not
symmetrical. His hair was black and wiry, lustreless and devoid of
interest. The whole plan and elevation of his face was so
unconventional that he would probably have passed for being
intellectual....
He bowed to her slightly. There was no doubt of his ability to bow.
Whether he were ungainly or not, his bowing was so elegant as to
savour of the professional. It was consciously a performance of
exquisite artistry, as if he were thinking: “I know I’m ugly, but I’ve
mastered the art of bowing, anyway. Put me in evening clothes, and
I’ll pass for an ambassador or a head-waiter.”
He did not offer his hand.
“Ah,” he said, “M’sieur Razounov will be ready in a moment.
Please take a seat.”
Catherine sat down in one of the easy chairs. From this position
she could see that another chair contained the recumbent form of
Emil Razounov. He was reading a Sunday paper and taking
occasional puffs at a large cigar. Catherine had heard much gossip
about Razounov’s eccentricities, yet compared with his companion
he seemed to her to be disappointingly ordinary. For several
moments the two men sat in silence, while Catherine made ruthless
mental criticisms. She was piqued at the lack of enthusiasm
accorded her.
Suddenly Emil Razounov spoke. The voice came from the depths
of the chair like a female voice out of a gramophone horn. It was
almost uncanny.
“I say, Verreker, hass not the young lady come?”
The man addressed as Verreker replied somewhat curtly: “Oh
yes, she’s here.”
“Zhen perhaps she weel go to the piano and play.”
Catherine left her chair and went to the instrument. Before sitting
down she took off her hat—which was a species of tam-o’-shanter—
and placed it on the table beside the piano. She did this from two
reasons: first, she did not feel comfortable with it on; and second,
she was proud of her hair, and conscious that it was the most
impressive thing about her.
“What shall I play?” she asked nonchalantly. She could not help
betraying her annoyance at her unceremonious reception.
There was a pause. It seemed almost as if both men were struck
dumb with astonishment at her amazing question. Then Verreker
said carelessly, as if it were a matter of no consequence at all: “Oh,
whatever you like.” She took several moments to adjust the music-
stool to her final satisfaction and prepare for playing. The time was
useful to decide what she should play. Strange that she should not
have decided before! She had decided before, as a matter of fact:
she had decided to play some Debussy. But since entering the room
she had changed her mind. She would play Chopin.
She played “Poland is Lost.” She played it well, because she was
feeling defiant. She played with the same complete disrespect for
her audience as had won her the first prize at the musical eisteddfod.
Where she wanted to bang, she banged. She did not care that she
was in a low-roofed dining-room and not a concert hall. She did not
care if she pleased or displeased them. They were contemptuous of
her: she would be contemptuous of them. The result was that she
was not in the least nervous. Yet when she had struck the last note
she could not help remarking to herself: “I did play that well. They
must have been rather impressed.”
An awkward pause ensued. Then Verreker said very weakly:
“Thank you.” His “thank you” was almost ruder than if he had said
nothing at all.
“Well?” said Razounov.
Catherine thought he was speaking to her. She was meditating
something in reply when Verreker spoke, showing that the word had
been addressed to him. A feeling of exquisite relief that she had not
spoken came over her.
“She oughtn’t to play Chopin,” remarked Verreker.
“No,” agreed Razounov.
Catherine’s face reddened. It was the subtle innuendo of their
remarks that hurt her. Also, by all the standards she had learnt at the
Bockley High School for Girls there was something impolite in their
criticizing her coolly in the third person as if she were not present.
She resented it. She was not a stickler for etiquette, but she would
not be insulted. “I don’t care who they are,” she thought rebelliously,
“they’ve no right to treat me like that. I’m as good as they are, every
bit!”