Drama, Disability and Education

A critical exploration for students and practitioners

Andy Kempe

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2012
• Print ISBN: 9780415675048
• eBook ISBN: 9781136218460
• Topic: Éducation
• Subtopic: Éducation générale

What can society learn about disability through the way it is portrayed in TV, films and plays?

This insightful and accessible text explores and analyses the way disability is portrayed in drama, and how that portrayal may be interpreted by young audiences. Investigating how disabilities have been represented on stage in the past, this book discusses what may be inferred from plays which feature disabled characters through a variety of critical approaches.

In addition to the theoretical analysis of disability in dramatic literature, the book includes two previously unpublished playscripts, both of which have been performed by secondary school aged students and which focus on issues of disability and its effects on others. The contextual notes and discussion which accompany these plays and projects provide insights into how drama can contribute to disability education, and how it can give a voice to students who have special educational needs themselves.

Other features of this wide-ranging text include:

• an annotated chronology that traces the history of plays that have featured disabled characters
• an analysis of how disability is used as a dramatic metaphor
• consideration of the ethics of dramatising a disabled character
• critical accounts of units of work in mainstream school seeking to raise disability awareness through engagement with practical drama and dramatic texts
• a description and evaluation of a drama project in a special school.

In tackling questions and issues that have not, hitherto, been well covered, Drama, Disability and Education will be of enormous interest to drama students, teachers, researchers and pedagogues who work with disabled people or are concerned with raising awareness and understanding of disability.

Chapter 1

Dramatic encounters with disability

The aims of drama in education

I once read a book aimed at secondary school students that claimed that, ‘We can actually put a date to the first real theatrical performance – 534 BC’ (Burton 1988: 39). Overall, I thought it was a good book with lots of clear ideas and arguments, but it struck me that this particular statement was questionable. One might well state with confidence that American Airlines Flight 11 struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center at precisely 8.46 a.m. on 11 September 2001, but to claim that something such as a theatrical performance, which could be regarded more as a concept than a concrete entity, sprung into being at a precise moment seems to give the history of mankind a certainty that I find hard to recognise. However, while concepts, cultures and traditions may evolve over time in a way so nebulous as to defy any attempt to pinpoint their origins with any exactitude, any history of ideas and actions has to start somewhere and work within some sort of framework. Thus, while it could be argued that disabled people may always have been represented in dramatic literature one way or another, the appearance of disabled characters prior to the mid twentieth century may be considered primarily in terms of their dramatic functionality and symbolic value rather than representing any explorations of disability itself. Tiresias, for example, is an embodiment of the proverb that there are none so blind as those who will not see, while Richard III’s deformity and both Lear’s and Hamlet’s ‘madness’ are manifestations of something being rotten in the state as a result of the ‘natural order’ or ‘great chain of being’ having been disturbed. Chapter 4 explores the symbolic significance of these classical depictions of disability further, and discusses how that symbolism may be so deeply ingrained in our culture and theatrical traditions that its shadow falls over many contemporary plays. What this chapter sets out to do is consider what young people might learn about disability through the dramatic literature they may encounter in the school curriculum or theatre that is readily available to young audiences. Any such discussion is likely to be controversial not least because the language associated with disability is highly contested. For example, in the world of education, the term ‘special needs’ isused as an umbrella (some might say euphemism) for physical disability, cognitive impairment and mental illness. It can also be used to refer to people of such intelligence or giftedness that they fall outside of what is perceived as the ‘normal range’. Yet, ‘normality’ is itself a problematic term, and a feature of many successful dramas lies in the way notions of normality are challenged or inverted. Indeed, the arts world tends to embrace the term ‘disability’ in order to establish an aesthetic that can directly counter ableist agendas that either ignore its existence or simply do not know how to engage with it for fear of seeming patronising, ignorant or offensive. The question is: To what extent does dramatic literature provide young people with insight into the lives of people who are disabled and society’s response to them?

The near invisibility of disability in pre twentieth-century dramatic literature (there are, of course, exceptions and these are noted in Chapter 2) is hardly surprising given the way those who are disabled have been treated in the past and continue to be treated in many places. In England, for example, it was not until 1893 that school boards were instructed to provide education for children who were blind or deaf (Barnard 1947: 223). Six years later, the Education (Defective and Epileptic Children) Act 1899 directed that children ‘not being imbecile and not being merely dull and backward’ should be provided for in special classes (Tansley and Gulliford 1960: 3). In the US, a ‘free and appropriate education for all handicapped children’ was not mandated until 1975; before then, some 4,000,000 children with disabilities did not receive the necessary support, and another 1 million received no schooling whatsoever (Connor and Ferri 2007: 63). The inclusion of children with special educational needs into mainstream schools continues to be a contentious issue (Ainscow and Booth 1998; Hodkinson and Vickerman 2009) with the result being that what many young people learn about disability from dramatic representations may well go unmoderated by any recognisable first-hand experience. Given such a context, what contribution might drama make in raising awareness of disability in mainstream schools? More specifically, what sort of plays that deal with disability might young people encounter in a drama curriculum?

Gavin Bolton (1990) identified four aims for teaching drama in the curriculum. First, he said drama could be used to teach a given content. Second, it might be aimed at enhancing some aspect of personal development or, third, social development. Finally, the aim might be to teach something of the dramatic art form. These aims need not be mutually exclusive. Indeed, when the relationship between drama and disability is considered, their concordance becomes apparent. Thus, a scheme of work in drama that takes disability as a focus may endeavour to teach students something about disability (content), foster empathy and positive attitudes (personal development), promote an acceptance and understanding of the lives and views of others (social development), and consider the ethics, practicalities and effects of different aspects of dramatic representation (subject-specific learning).

Taken independently, each of these aims become problematic. For example, simply imparting ‘facts’ about the medical dimensions of disability may result in a sense of alienation and ‘otherness’. In terms of personal and social development, there is a fine line between empathy and understanding leading to respect and empowerment, and sympathy and benefaction resulting in patronage and disempowerment. To regard the representation of disability as no more than a technical challenge would be to deny Schechner’s observation that what happens on stage has ‘emotional and ideological consequences for both performers and spectators’ (Schechner 2006: 124). In the context of the school curriculum, choosing to represent disabled characters on the grounds that doing so would be an effective means of parading acting ability could thus be seen as exploitative and irresponsible. Conversely, acknowledging the four aims as a matrix would be to appreciate the complexity of disability as both a condition and a concept, and drama as art form and agent of social change. In this sense, focusing on disability in drama might well be seen as satisfying the demand that ‘The curriculum should reflect values in our society that promote personal development, equality of opportunity, economic well-being, a healthy and just democracy, and a sustainable future’ (Department for Education 2008) and support the view that ‘The role of the teacher is to prepare pupils to become moral agents’ (Beasley et al. 1990: 6).

There is a plethora of resources upon which the teacher might draw in order to inform and shape an exploration of disability through drama. Charities such as Mencap have comprehensive websites, which are a mine of information, ideas and support, while the BFI offers a powerful resource exploring media representations of disability through history (www.bfi.org.uk/education/teaching/disability). Kathy Saunders’ book Happy Ever Afters: A Storybook Guide to Teaching Children About Disability (Saunders 2000) is a particularly useful resource for Key Stages 1 and 2 in that it explains how popular and readily available books by well known children’s authors can be used to heighten awareness of disability. She offers an acronymical framework for evaluating texts written for children, which she calls the DICSEY Code (ibid.: 31). In short, the code interrogates a number of children’s books by questioning:

• what they explicitly say about Disability;
• what sort of Images they employ;
• the extent to which characters have Control over their own lives;
• how Societal rules are expressed and challenged;
• the ways in which characters are Enabled to do things for themselves; and
• what role Young carers play in the stories.

When it comes to plays published specifically for use in the secondary school curriculum, which in some way broach the subject of disability, teachers may feel frustrated by the limited range. This is not to say, though, that there are not a number of plays that could be used in the context of the secondary school to inform and stimulate debate on issues surrounding disability using Saunders’ framework as a guide.

Some old favourites

In the UK, the most commonly studied piece of literature in which the protagonist has an identifiable disability is undoubtedly Of Mice and Men. Steinbeck wrote the story in such a way that it could be read as either a novel or a play. It was first performed on stage in 1937, the same year that it was published as a novel. It is the story of Lennie, a gentle giant with the mind of an innocent child, and his friend George who attempts to protect him from a cruel and unsympathetic world. A common reading of the narrative would be a liberal humanist one in which George’s final act of killing Lennie is seen as a compassionate and selfless ‘act of kindness’. However, it could equally be argued that the characterisation of Lennie as a victim imparts a negative view of those with learning difficulties in that, ultimately, he becomes a burden that is simply too great for George to bear. Such a reading is cognate with the argument expressed by Snyder and Mitchell (2001) that disability has persistently been used to bolster ableist discourses and ideological frameworks. But the play may be considered in other ways. For example, it may be seen as a metaphor for American society in that Lennie and George live in a land built on the principle that dreams can come true. However, like Willy Loman in Miller’s Death of a Salesman (1949), it is clear that not all dreams do come true and that the ‘best laid plans o’ mice and men gang aft agley.’ The fact that the play/novel was banned by some state and school libraries for promoting euthanasia and holding an anti-capitalist stance supports the notion that the world of Lennie and George may indeed be a metonymic representation of American society.

Of Mice and Men is a useful touchstone in that its depiction of a disability may be interpreted in different ways, each of which may be employed in discussions of other plays depicting characters with some form of impairment. In the first instance, it is worthy of consideration because it is so commonly studied in schools (albeit most usually in the form of a novel rather than a play) even though it was not written specifically for a young audience. Other plays that have appeared on examination syllabuses in England would include The Glass Menagerie; in which Laura is depicted as both emotionally and physically ‘crippled’; Peter Nichols’ tragicomic exploration of the challenges faced by parents trying to look after their profoundly and multiply disabled daughter in A Day in the Death of Joe Egg; and Brian Clark’s dramatic moral debate on euthanasia for those left paralysed after an accident in Whose Life is it Anyway? In the context of curriculum study, students are likely to be required to focus on the text as a piece of literature, and discuss narrative, structure and character development. Alternatively, they may be required to consider what is involved in moving from page to stage, how to play the characters and how to achieve dramatic impact. What the plays may be saying about disability and responses to it tend to remain largely undiscussed in such a context. Is this, in itself, a manifestation of an ableist agenda that cares only to view disability through the lens of objectified study? Or is it a result of teachers simply not knowing quite how to open up the issues for discussion?

Another groundbreaking play that offers insights into a specific disabling condition and the challenges faced by those with severe impairment and those around them is William Gibson’s 1957 play The Miracle Worker. Based on Helen Keller’s own writings, the play imparts the didactic message that children with disabilities should be treated like any others in terms of having high expectations held of them. The play upholds the belief that, given discipline and structure, they can learn, become independent and behave in a socially acceptable way. In contrast, Arne Skouen’s Ballerina (1984) tends to sentimentalise the problems that occur when social norms are rejected and a disabling condition is indulged. The central character of the play is an autistic teenage girl, Malin, whose mother has snatched her from an institution and built a communication system for her based on balletic movement. When the mother’s circumstances change, she is forced to ask for help, only to find that no one feels able to share the esoteric world she and her daughter have created.

A more commonly studied play that focuses on a specific disabling condition is Peter Shaffer’s dramatisation of an apparently true (though actually unverified) story of an emotionally disturbed teenager in Equus. Even here, though, it may be argued that the play is more about the psychiatrist’s frustration with his own ability to make a positive difference rather than an exploration of his patient’s experience:

I’ll heal the rash on his body. I’ll erase the welts cut into his mind by flying manes. When that’s done, I’ll set him on a nice mini-scooter and send him puttering off into the Normal world where animals are treated properly: made extinct, or put into servitude, or tethered all their lives in dim light.

In some cases, humanitarian frustration is replaced by a furious indictment of society’s response to the disabled, though this may be expressed more forcibly in the author’s introductory notes than in the play script itself; see, for example, Nabil Shaban’s play about the Nazis’ treatment of the disabled, The First to Go, and Haresh Sharma’s Off Centre. The latter of these became a milestone when it was admitted to the curriculum in Singapore, notwithstanding the Ministry of Health withdrawing funding for its development because its depiction of mental illness was considered too extreme.

A number of plays originating in the late twentieth century explore mental illness (Wald 2007), and some of these have proved popular with drama students perhaps because the protagonists are themselves young people. Find Me, Gum and Goo, Adult Child Dead Child, The Skriker and 4.48 Psychosis have all proved to be popular vehicles through which young performers may demonstrate their acting talents. The question is: Are these plays studied because of the insight they give into mental illness, or because the anger that gives them their dramatic power serves as a vehicle for the teenage angst of those performing them?

Tailor-made for teens

None of the plays mentioned above were written specifically for use in the school curriculum or aimed at a young audience. Indeed, very few plays featuring characters with disabilities or focusing on disability issues are. What follows, however, is a commentary on a number of published plays that are readily available.

Flowers for Algernon by Bert Coules is an adaptation of a novel by Daniel Keyes. Published in Heinemann’s Windmill series, it is designed for use at Key Stages 3 and 4, and contains suggestions for follow-up activities. It is the story of Charlie Gordon, who, we are told, has an IQ of 68. Charlie works as a cleaner in a bakery but, wanting to improve himself, he signs up for a class with a view to improving his reading and meets Alice, an attractive young female teacher. Meanwhile, an experiment on a mouse named Algernon has convinced a professor and doctor at the local university that they have discovered a procedure for increasing intelligence. Alice puts Charlie forward as a human guinea pig. The procedure is so successful that Charlie’s IQ rises rapidly to 185, and he develops both an encyclopaedic knowledge and depth of understanding that challenges the professor and doctor. It soon becomes apparent, though, that IQ is not the magic key to fulfilment. Workmates who once teased him for his ‘slowness’ become intimidated by his new-found intelligence and eloquence. While he and Alice become romantically attached, Charlie retains an immature attitude towards love, and their relationship does not develop physically. As it turns out, the IQ enhancing procedure is flawed. Algernon starts to behave erratically and Charlie realises that his own IQ will start to regress. Unable to bear the possibility that people will simply feel sorry for him, he commits himself to a care home after writing a letter asking for flowers to be put on Algernon’s grave.

Flowers for Algernon is an engaging and accessible play. It is a good story that exposes how much hurt may be caused by ‘normal’ people when they behave an...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• List of contributors
• Introduction
• 1 Dramatic encounters with disability
• 2 A chronology of disabled dramatic characters
• 3 ‘Damaging mythology’: disability and stereotype
• 4 The dramatic symbolism of disability
• 5 Performing disability
• 6 The body beautiful, the beautiful mind
• 7 Who cares?
• Play script: For Ever and Ever
• 8 Peer perspectives
• Play script: Buckethead
• 9 From the horse’s mouth
• Plays referred to and date of first performance
• References
• Index