This is England...

He pointed out at the boys playing football on the school sports pitch in the drizzle.

'This is very nice.'

I assumed that since he had only been learning English for three and a half months, he probably hadn't mastered sarcasm yet.

'Ummm.... Yes...?'

'England is very nice. No trouble. This....' - he gestured around him - '...very...quiet. No boom boom boom.' He made an internationally recognised hand signal.

'Gun fire?'

'Yes. I like England.'

At the end of the workshop he came up and shook my hand.

'I am very looking forward to next week, for Drama. I see you next week.'

'Yes. I'm looking forward to it too.'

And I am. Although there is a bit of trouble at the school, at the moment, and the young refugee boys are being targeted and victimised by some of the other students at the school, to such an extent that one of them had to be escorted home for his safety, and we had to end our workshop early so we could escort them back to the area of the school where they study until they are ready for timetabled classes, before lunch break so they were safe.

It makes me sad.

It's also interesting that these boys, who have arrived here from all across the world (predominantly Afghanistan, but also Poland, Bulgaria, Sri Lanka, Romania, Pakistan, Albania....) start off so, so polite and respectful; they are, I think - and they do articulate this, best they can - so grateful to be here, to be safe and to be studying in a British school. But then, as they become more confident,and more importantly I think, as they see the behaviour of the students in the school around them - much less respectful and polite, feeling far less privileged to be getting an education - they start to emulate the attitude of the British boys. Picking up on their walks, their language, their ways of interacting. One of the teachers in the 'Link', where the young migrants study until they are ready to be thrust into the mainstream, said, with a sad sigh, they become 'British-ified'. He said, 'We want them to integrate, just not too much!'

Working in all the different contexts and community groups that I do has so many benefits and one of these is just gaining insights into different worlds I wouldn't normally enter; it raises so many issues: social, political, cultural, personal... It sounds a bit trite to summarise it like this, but it makes me think a lot. Miss Fox was right: my education is continuing all the time.

Diversity Role Models

At the end of conferences I am known to surreptitiously secrete the left-over teabags about my person. Or the occasional carton of orange juice. It's the way I roll. Intellectual stimulation, perhaps new networks created and friends made, and one of my 5-a-day for the rest of the week - who could ask for more? But a training event I attended last night truly surpassed all others, as I left with a bulging bag stuffed to the brim with left-overs: a bottle of wine, soft drinks, and a (Blue Peter-esque) tin foil tray, artfully folded to contain samosas, rice, pitta bread and fancy salads. The catering had been generously sponsored (as had the rather nice venue in Red Lion Square) by law firm Mishcon de Reya - so I'll raise a glass to them. I'm currently tucking into a stuffed vine-leaf as we speak (I type).

However - believe it or not - it was not the culinary delights of last night (and lunch time today) that inspired me to write this post. Far from it. Instead, I really wanted to say a little bit about Diversity Role Models, who were running the training.

DRM's mission is to combat homophobic bullying in schools by educating young people about differences in sexuality and gender identity. Their method is to communicate with students directly, using positive role models to counter negative stereotypes and educate young people about diversity. Last night I was training to be one of those role models. It feels a bit strange to say that, to be actively putting myself forward as a role model; I'm sure if many parents saw the messy state of my bedroom (I will get tidier, I promise) they'd baulk at the idea of me as a perfect role model. But at DMR we were assured that we're not set up as aspirational emblems; we do not need to be 'successful, attractive or brilliant', indeed if we all were I guess we'd fail at representing diversity. The point is that we are real people, who represent a broad spectrum of sexual identities (in fact, in my opinion, each and every person represents a different sexual identity, as how can such an intrinsic and personal thing be anything other than unique), and are happy to talk to young people about what it means to be L, G, B, T, straight, queer, or however we self-identify.

It was such an inspirational evening. And I don't say that lightly. I feel so, so passionately about this agenda: about tackling homophobia, prejudice, fear and intolerance. At a time where LGBT (lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender) young people are three times more likely to attempt suicide and two thirds of them suffer bullying at school, how is this not important?

The event was really thought-provoking as well. It made me cast a retrospective eye over my time at school: Had people come out? (only one in my year, and it didn't end well) What were the prevailing attitudes to homosexuality? (I did a survey for my Sociology coursework at sixth form on this topic and was surprised to find so many 'It's Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve' attitudes, in what I thought was quite a liberal area) What about casual homophobia embedded into everyday language? ('That's so gay', 'Don't be so gay!', 'Urghh, they should be re-named GAY Levels!' Poor excuse for a pun. Gay, gay, gay - you hear it everywhere, and not in the sense my grandma still uses it. I remember hearing it for the first time when I was about 11 and being quite upset. When did this become acceptable?). And what about LGBT role models? Sparse would be an under-statement. Some of the others there were quite shocked by my revelation that I know basically no gay women (with the obvious exception of my beautiful girlfriend, the fabulous Miss Fox!), and certainly no Older Wiser Lesbians (OWLs - a term Gem introduced me to a while back). We need diverse role models. Young people need to know that 'gay' isn't just an insult and doesn't just mean one type of person.

Any excuse for a picture of an owl...

Listening to the other role models there to be trained, and the stories they told, I felt privileged to be party to their honesty, humour and insight.


So, a little plug: if, like me, you think this is an important issue, check out the Diversity Role Models website, or even visit their charities trust page.

Gosh, I feel all impassioned and stuff... Maybe I should use the excess energy to go and tidy my room. Or fervently apply for jobs I don't really want and would be paid tuppence for.... Maybe I'll just have another samosa and quietly reflect on the state of the world.  
   

Totem

Not exactly Applied Theatre-related, but just need a quick chance to rave about Totem by Cirque du Soleil, directed by Robert Lepage, which I saw on Sunday night as a belated birthday present from my dad and his wife.

I've been a big Lepage fan for years, ever since I saw The Dragons' Trilogy when I was at sixth form, and had never seen Cirque du Soleil before and always wanted to, so Totem looked perfect.

The multi-talented Mr Robert Lepage

And it was! Mind-blowing. In fact, I kept realising I was holding my breath and grabbing the edge of my seat during the various acts - partly because despite intellectually knowing that they probably weren't going to fall and die (they hadn't so far), I kept waiting for something to go wrong.

It made me realise: a) they must have all trusted each other A LOT; b) they must have trusted themselves A LOT; c) sometimes you do have to see something to believe it; d) beauty is under-rated; e) tree-frogs are under-rated; f) I can't even juggle and have little chance of successfully running away with the circus. It is a sad thing. I'm sure I realised some other even more profound things - the kind of profundity that can only be contemplated in the wake of beautiful art, but turns to ghosts and shadows when the curtain goes down - but I'm not sure what they were. All I know is that when I shut my eyes to go to sleep a couple of hours later, the evolution of the world was dancing around in leotards and leaping between trapezes on the inside of my eyelids.

It was magic. 

Maybe I'll practice my juggling. I can almost do two balls now...

2012 begins...

So, here we are at the end of the first week of the new year, with a 'Goodbye 2011' and 'Hello 2012'. And now we are in the post-festive January doldrums.

Although never a big fan of an overly-glitzy (read: expensive and potentially dissatisfying) NYE - instead much more excited by the prospect of an evening with Sherlock and Ab Fab on New Year's Day (huzzah!) - I do quite like the opportunity that the onslaught of a new year provides to take stock, make some plans, set some unrealistic targets, pause and revise them to more realistic ones. So, along with committing to being more tidy (which I have never quite managed to sustain to the standard I would like, despite resolving this every year since I was about 7 years old), eating a more varied diet and doing more exercise (I will try, this year, I will), I've also been staring at the empty pages that seem to fill most of my diary for the great 2012... Now, looking at the year ahead, I'm sorry Mr Cameron, but - and look away now anyone who will be aghast, horrified and other relevant synonyms by this - but I really would struggle to give less of a shit about the Olympics and the Diamond Jubilee. Apparently that is what I am supposed to be focusing on and excited about. Whoops.  

In his new year message, David Cameron tells us: 'This will be the year Britain will see the world and the world sees Britain'. Sadly, I think it's very unlikely that (once again) I will have enough money to see any of the world this year. Cue violins, obviously. And furthermore, in reference to this year's 'main events', a) I sort of feel like I have more pressing things to think about, like if I have enough money for food, and how to get rid of the damp round the windows, and why despite one thousand calls to Virgin our internet STILL doesn't work properly; and b) whenever we are told to focus on something, it is my instinctive reaction (blame it on the occasional units on Marxism throughout my formal education and reading The Guardian) to wonder what it is they are trying to get us to not focus on. Like wavy lines in pre-migraine vision, on the periphery, not centre stage. Unemployment? NHS reforms? Over-flowing prisons? Gosh, it's too depressing to even continue the list.

But wait! This is miserable. I don't want to be miserable! Can't start the year on a downer. Even if I have finished all my chocolate money and feel guilty that I haven't sent all my thank-you cards, it's January and cold and will probably get dark in about 5 minutes. Winter is brilliant! January must have a secret brilliance! The cold is brilliant! The world is brilliant!

OK, perhaps there is a middle-ground. I should get a bit more Buddhist. 'Global drama' and 'glory' aside, there are things to look forward to this year, not excluding Sunday night 'Sherlock' for the next two weeks. Look at those cheek-bones...

And I shall fill up some of the pages in my diary with wholesome 'crafternoons' with my sisters (where we do crafts - cos we're cool, innit), trips to free museums, and reading books I got for Christmas. January will not be dull! (And obviously applying for more jobs, to increase the likelihood of getting paid for work. I'm keen and reliable. Tell your friends.)

Post script: Interesting that Cameron kept using the word 'bold', which was the note I finished my last post on. He totally stole my word (which I stole off Michael Grandage). I'm glad he says he will be bold; I just hope it's in directions that are profitable for all.

It's not just about the hat...

On Monday 12th December 2011, I became a graduate of the Central School of Speech and Drama, with much gown-tweaking, hat-throwing, men in drag, enthusiastic clapping, and general Drama school, jazz-hands merriment.

It was actually a wonderful ceremony. With both a twin sister and an older sister (Dr. Rachel - who, we have joked, collects universities), my parental group have attended their fair share of university graduation ceremonies, and even they agreed that Central won hands down (it wasn't cold, there weren't long speeches in Latin, even though it was December it was sunny...). It was both a moving and entertaining event; it was so lovely to see so many of my MA cohort again (although sad that some of the international students weren't able to be there) and also to see all of the undergraduates celebrating.

The best thing about the ceremony was that it was a celebration of the arts, and the power of the arts. Both Prof. Gavin Henderson and Michael Grandage gave very powerful speeches, as did those introducing the very exciting Honorary Fellowships: Joseph Seelig and Helen Lannaghan introduced by William Burdett-Coutts; Bette Bourne ('honorary fella....ahem fellow' - what a legend!) introduced by Mark Ravenhill; and Carrie Fisher introduced by Debbie Reynolds.There was a great sense of fun and humour in all of the speeches, and I loved the fact that at least two male students receiving their qualifications were dressed in drag - the PhD student who went through a process which appeared not dissimilar to being knighted was wearing EPIC high heels! Some of the other students, however, could (in my humble opinion) have taken more careful consideration over their choice of footwear, as half my row held their breath as some of the female students tottered their way across the stage. Only at Central can the men walk in high heels more gracefully than the women...

My drama (with a small 'd') of the afternoon was that I temporarily lost my mortar board, and spent the whole of the slightly unusual dance piece at the start of the show desperately scouring the floor and passing notes reading: 'Have you seen my HAT????' Fortunately, we didn't have to wear them on stage, and - with a jubilant flash of realisation - there was a perfect moment to rectify my loss of hat: when all the other students threw theirs into the air with carefree abandon! Ha! Kate once more had a hat. I'm not a bad person; there will have been a spare one lying around somewhere (wherever the hell I left it). And really there's a life lesson there: never throw your hat too high....

On a serious note: the best thing about the ceremony was that it was a public celebration of new talent, a coming together of adults of all ages who are hopefully about to embark on exciting careers in the arts. Maybe even wearing a golden bikini one day and being the subject of a whole genre of male (and female) fantasy. Or just making a difference: entertaining, harnessing the power of the arts, using drama for social and political purposes. It is a sad fact that the arts do not always get the public and political recognition they deserve, but there we all were: all together, clapping til our hands were sore, for students who cared - really cared - about the arts.

I recently learnt from news from the Social Arts Network (SANe) that the Office of National Statistics (ONS) is currently consulting on the first set of national well-being measures, and SANe, Play's the Thing, ArtsProfessionals and the Happy Museum Project were exclaiming their dismay and shock that current proposals do not include specific measures related to Arts and Culture. They stated:

'If cultural activity is to be at the heart of future government agendas, it is vital now that the cultural sector starts to shout loudly about the contribution made by the arts to personal well-being.'

They are working on a co-ordinated response, about which you can read more here.

I take some hope from all that enthusiastic clapping (and some of the jazz hands) last Monday - there is a new generation of practitioners, and some of us are going to try bloody hard to make a difference. Michael Grandage told us to be bold. We will be bold. We need to be.

The People's Story

Yesterday, I attended a premiere screening at the BFI of a documentary of a project by Age Exchange, a charity which works in the field of reminiscence, running intergenerational projects to bring people and communities together.

I first came across Age Exchange and their work when I was in the second year of my undergraduate degree and David Savill, their current artistic director, came and ran a workshop with my Applied Theatre class. Many of the class hadn't really considered this area of work - 'nah, I'm not really interested in working with old people' - as Helen Nicholson once put it, it's not 'sexy' Applied Theatre: no prisoners or victims of torture, no exciting venue, just an old people's home down the road where you'll have to drink lots of tea and hear about old people's grandchildren. Such was the attitude of many of the class. But after hearing about Age Exchange's work it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that many students left the class fascinated and inspired.

Then in my second term at Central I chose to do a case study on the company for my module on Theatre and Social Exclusion, after attending a seminar on intergenerational practice, as part of 'Age to Age', the Lewisham Intergenerational Festival, and became further acquainted with the powerful impact of their work.

Yesterday, the documentary screened was of a project called The People's Story, a major intergenerational project working with the diverse communities of Enfield and Edmonton. This project spanned 18 months and was run in partnership with London and Quadrant Housing Trust, who manage lots of the social housing in the area and were keen to work on a project which promoted community cohesion. It was a fascinating documentary, by film maker Ivan Riches, and the event was made even more poignant by many participants from the project sitting in the audience, sharing in the enjoyment and excitement of the occasion, and the following Q&A with the directors, funders and participants.

The project had produced a great many products: a theatre piece, film, recorded interviews and visual art; however it felt important to hear at the end David Savill emphasising that the process (which had no doubt been a challenging, yet rewarding one) was far, far more important than the many products. Malcolm Jones, their arts and education co-ordinator, reiterated that their work was never a "smash and grab raid on older people's stories to make a product", but rather a process of mutual respect, trust and generosity.

I know I personally left feeling moved, inspired and full of ideas (hmmm...does anyone know of a secret pot of money I can tap into? Or do I need to consider the soul destroying process of funding app.s?). AND there was a free lunch with amazing brownies! What more could you ask for?

What is a 'cragrat' anyway?

So, the most recent edition to my 'freelance portfolio' (gosh, I do sound grown up, don't I? Well, I did turn 24 this week) is with Cragrats, who offered me a job last week.

Cragrats 'specialises in the design and delivery of high-impact experiential learning programmes', and I will be working as one of their tutors, going into schools to deliver Enterprise Education days. I had my training session this afternoon, and am now really looking forward to my first booking in a school.

And I discovered that a cragrat is someone who climbs mountains. So I've developed my vocabulary as well; I do like learning new words. Like 'apodyopsis' - the act of mentally undressing someone. Which I neither did nor learnt at my training today, but do think it is a rather lovely word.

You learn something new...

Tweet tweet

I have finally joined Twitter.

I probably could have been more creative with my choice of name:

https://twitter.com/#!/KateMasseyChase

Followers welcome!

I shall now learn to communicate in 140 characters, with @s, #s and everything.

I am a great fan of the occasional haiku, so perhaps I will warm to it...

Creative Approaches to Well-Being - continuing my education in the big wide world

Last week was a bit of a mile-stone for me, as I went to collect my MA results. Although being very pleased with my fancy bit of paper which said I had got a distinction - and being amused that the woman on reception who made my alumni card put that my qualification was in 'MA Applied Theatre (Drama in the cumminty)' [fail!] - it was also a slightly sad moment, as I realised that (for now) I had reached the end of my full-time education. Moping about this to the beautiful Miss Fox, she helpfully reminded me that it marked the end of my formal education, but that I would always keep learning, keep the curiosity burning,* and continue to educate myself, out in the big wide world....

Now, a week has passed and I have been fortunate enough to have already had the opportunity to immerse myself in new ideas and information, new debates, and exciting new practice, as I was able to attend a two-day conference on 'Creative Approaches to Well-Being' entitled: Play's the Thing. Hosted by Escape Artists, this was a stimulating and creative couple of days of workshops, talks and panel debates, all exploring the topic of well-being and the contribution of creative practice and research.

I was able to attend this conference (despite my relative poverty) because I won a free pass after coming second in their 'Speed talk' competition, where they offered the opportunity to pitch an idea for a 5 minute talk, and those voted as most popular would be able to both deliver their short presentation and attend the rest of the conference. My talk was, quite predictably, on the topic of my MA thesis: the use of Drama to build the personal and social skills of young people in the transition between child & adolescent and adult mental health services. Definitely fitted the theme of creativity and well-being, but I think I under-estimated the challenge of condensing my 12,000-odd word thesis into a coherent 5 minute speech...

For me, highlights of the conference were:
 - Prof. Felicia Huppert's erudite keynote speech on well-being on an international and personal scale, including where the UK sits in the levels of well-being across Europe (not so good, we should definitely start looking to Denmark for tips! If nothing else they produced lego, The Killing and Sandi Toksvig...) and how positive mental states broaden and build cognitive processes
 - Ansuman Biswas' fantastic physical, vocal and mental warm-up (and for providing some amazing hugs) at the start of the conference, and Briony Greenhill's gorgeous group singing session to end it
 - Alex Fradera's improvisation workshop - stole some exercises I've already used with one of my Drama groups
 - Hearing more about international prison theatre
- And, of course, the opportunity to meet so many interesting, creative people who give a shit.

And here is me and my friend Natasha laughing....an honest example of creativity spawning well-being.
(Photograph by Christine Cellier)

So, I can safely say the well-being agenda is on my agenda. For anyone interested, I would certainly recommend Pat Kane's article in the Guardian, arguing that 'a real diversity of input is essential to thinking and feeling our way beyond the cyclical hysterics of capitalism' (although it would be even better if you could hear it in his lovely Scottish accent...).

My education can and shall continue beyond the university walls; it is a life-long process - and I'm prepared to approach it creatively...

*a couple of years ago my inebriated housemate identified 'curiosity', along with empathy and one particular aspect of my physical appearance, as one of my top qualities:

Explaining Applied Theatre at the Job Centre....

Advisor: So, you're a Drama teacher?

Me: No, not exactly. I'm not a qualified teacher.

Advisor: Have you thought about any further education or training? A PGCE is just one year.

Me: I know. But I just finished my Masters about a month ago. I don't really want to do a PGCE just now. I mean, maybe in the future, or in a few years I'd perhaps like to go into lecturing... I don't know.

Advisor: So are you looking for university lecturing jobs?

Me: No. No, certainly not right now.

Advisor: And you're not a Drama teacher?

Me: No, it's more like...entering into a dialogue with different community groups, not exactly teaching them... Using Drama to build personal and social skills, or for social change.... or.......[tails off, over compensating with arm gestures]

Advisor: Right [sounding either dubious or confused - or both].
So it's quite specific then...

Me: Yes.

Advisor: OK. Well, I'll do a job search for you [turns to computer....a minute later]. So, we've got a senior lecturing job at UCL, in Philosophy.

Me: On £45k? I don't think I'm really trained for that...

Advisor: Or something to do with programming systems at LSE.

Me: Economics? That's not really my field...

Advisor: Or you could be a Youth Worker?