I have vivid memories as a
five-year-old of the excitement of getting an extra room built on our house in suburban Auckland for
my new baby brother or sister.
My memories of what happened after my parents announced it was a “bad baby” and sent him away are not so clear. I got to move into the newly built room but I didn’t get to meet my brother, Ross, who was born with Down syndrome, until I was 17.
I was so surprised when I met Ross because he was a totally cool person, not the “bad baby” I had expected to meet.
He came to Auckland for a visit before moving here in the ’70s when the institute in which he had been living since birth was closed down. Now I could get to know Ross.
My life had been packed full of exciting adventures, so when I turned 50 it came as a big shock because it came around so very quickly. I felt like I was still 25. It was an introspective time and I thought to myself, “Oh my goodness, I don’t want to waste another day of my life.”
The previous year, when my partner, Roy, and I married, I had asked Ross to give me away. During the celebrations following the wedding ceremony there were the customary speeches. Just as the celebrations were drawing to a close, Ross, surprising everyone, stood up. Everyone went silent as he began to speak. Unless you know Ross well, his speech is almost entirely unintelligible, but his facial expression, body language and tone of voice conveyed his message and expression of love. The speech was so moving that our wedding guests were in tears. In itself it was an unforgettable moment, but what happened next was to change my life.
People had often spoken to Ross in
a “special” voice, as if they were speaking to a small child. After his moving speech, people spoke to him in a perfectly normal way. Suddenly they treated him as a real person. I began to think about the huge contribution that Ross had made to our wedding and, more than that, how people’s attitudes towards him had changed.
Shortly after turning 50, I woke one morning bursting with an idea: I wanted to create similar “wedding speech” opportunities for other young people.
Roy was keen to join me on this adventure so we got to work figuring out how to create opportunities that would work for any child in any place. If they were to emerge as stars, as Ross had from our wedding, the obvious platform was the stage. Despite our lack of experience in anything to do with this area, we chose performance and we named it StarJam.
Our first performance was in November 2002. It was a show where kids interviewed celebrities of their choice, live on stage, interspersed with some singing and dancing. Fifteen young people with disabilities (we call them Jammers) took part at the launch at the Sheraton Hotel in Auckland. Just over six years later, we have produced nine major stage shows and more than 450 Jammers have performed on stage. We have also been on three “jamming” trips to the US where our kids have interviewed Hollywood stars and performed for all sorts of people, including Arnold Schwarzenegger, Tom Cruise, Danny DeVito and Lucy Lawless.
Naturally, it’s fun to rub shoulders with people you would normally only see on the covers of glossy magazines, but the main focus of StarJam’s work is our talent expansion program.
The program, which is open to all young people under the age of 25, offers places in a dozen different weekly workshops in various venues around Auckland. Each workshop is a mini StarJam community where 10 kids are mentored in singing, dancing or playing
a musical instrument.
The kids not only make a bunch of friends, their confidence also increases dramatically as they work together preparing for the next big show.
When we started we didn’t realise that StarJam would totally change the lives of the kids we’ve been working with, some of whom were suicidal and had no friends and no hope for the future before they became involved. It’s been incredibly rewarding for us to see their lives transformed and their potential seems limitless.
The audiences who see the Jammers perform are also deeply affected. As we say, “Watch out, you might get jammed!”
STARJAM FAN CLUB
The StarJam Fan Club is an online community of young Jammers and their fans.
“It doesn’t cost anything and the kids feel really valued and empowered when they get new fans,” says StarJam founder Julie Bartlett. For details visit starjamfanclub.org.
SUPPORT STARJAM
For just $20 you can provide
a place for a new Jammer to find meaning in his or her life through StarJam’s talent expansion program. Donate online at starjam.org or starjamfanclub.org.
THE GROCERY
CHARITY BALL
StarJam was chosen as the beneficiary of the 2009 Grocery Charity Ball in Auckland on August 28. StarJam aims to raise enough money to introduce its programs to Wellington and Christchurch in 2010.