Note: The following article was written by GFS teacher Teresa Maebori in 1985, one year after the beginning of the HMS/GFS collaboration. It appeared in Studies in Education, an academic journal published by Germantown Friends School.

Wiping tears from my eyes as the song concluded, I too wondered, "How Could This Happen?" We were in the midst of a rehearsal for a musical play involving twenty Germantown Friends School third-fourth graders and twenty cerebral palsy students from the Home of the Merciful Saviour. As we sang the lyrics, acted out the words, and then joined hands to show our unity and affection for one another, a lump in my throat grew. We were all reacting to the moment in the play when two farmers, the main characters, are told that they must split up, forget their cooperation and friendship, and move away. They sing about their feelings and wonder aloud "How Could This Happen?" But for us there were many more hidden thoughts and feelings climaxing in this song, and it was hard not to let our emotions show. Many of the teachers struggled to fight back their tears while parents dabbed at their eyes.

Dismay and Anger

How did this exchange between Germantown Friends and the Home of the Merciful Saviour happen anyway? It resulted from a sharing assembly we had had in the GFS Lower School. One class shared some improvised skits they had created. In one skit children who were spastic and mentally retarded were mimicked and ridiculed. As I watched, I was dismayed at the laughter from the audience and angry that children who were different were mocked. "How Could This Happen?" was similar to a thought I had had then: "What are we all about at GFS if in some way we do not help to promote understanding and eliminate prejudice?

With this thought still brewing in my mind, I hurried back to the classroom and asked the students (3rd4th graders) what their reaction to the assembly had been. First they commented on several positive events that had been shared. Then I asked if anyone was disturbed by anything in the assembly. Johanna quickly raised her hand and related that the skit about the children who were different bothered her, especially since those who were ridiculed could not help what had happened to them. As the discussion progressed, Laurie added that sometimes she and her father went to a hospital near their home and read to sick children. Thinking that this was a good idea, I suggested that perhaps we needed to understand the handicapped better. Perhaps we ridiculed because we were so isolated from children with physical handicaps and didn't know them as people with feelings and dignity. I asked the children if they would be willing to meet and get to know some handicapped children if I could arrange an exchange. Voices chimed in "yes" and heads nodded in agreement.

Meeting the HMS Children

That's how it happened. Soon we were working with children with cerebral palsy from the Home of the Merciful Saviour in West Philadelphia after John Harkins, Lower School Principal, suggested we contact Phyllis DuPuis, HMS Recreational Director and former GFS parent. Phyllis was delighted by our interest and suggested we come and get to know the children. She told us that the HMS students had a wide range of abilities. Some would have use of their hands; others might fling them about wildly. Some could talk, some would use language boards, and some would use their eyes to communicate. All the children would be in wheelchairs.

One could sense our nervousness and fear as we walked up to the front door of the Home and pushed the button to gain entrance. The GFS students were subdued and quiet. No one ran to the door, no one yelled, no one went off exploring. We all grouped together closely and waited for someone to let us in. Randall whispered to Daniel that he had butterflies in his stomach. Daniel quietly countered that his butterflies felt more like tigers fighting inside. Part of our fear was in not knowing what to expect. We had had a presentation by Daniel about cerebral palsy which his father, a doctor, had helped him prepare. Also I had conveyed Phyllis DuPuis' information to the class. But no one had told us what to say when we came face to face with our cerebral palsy partners.

None of us had any experience and most of us were anxious. Some wondered, "Can
I catch cerebral palsy? Will I hurt them if I touch them? How does one speak to someone who cannot speak? Can they understand? How do you move a wheelchair' How can I be helpful? Will they like me?" Our anxiety lessened as we entered the Home. Sunlight filtered in through the windows, lighting the halls and rooms. Floors sparkled. Indeed, this was a home and from the sounds we could hear it was a happy, caring place.

Working with Partners

Phyllis DuPuis welcomed us and took us to the recreation room. When we entered we saw a few students slumped in their wheelchairs searching us with their eyes. Yes, they were different. The HMS children sat motionless. Many of them were thin and could not hold their heads up. An occasional arm or leg moved involuntarily. No one ran up to greet us or say hello. It was hard not to stare and feel uncomfortable. But quickly we introduced ourselves to those in the recreation room and divided up to find the other students in their classrooms.

In the recreation room partners were assigned and the GFS students began sharing projects they had designed. Soon children were gluing, directing hands to where pieces could be placed, or sprinkling glitter on paper stars. Instead of using their hands some HMS students used headsticks. With studied patience an HMS student guided a gluestick with his head onto a piece of paper and soon the spot was sprinkled with glitter. As I wandered around from pair to pair, I saw each child making an attempt to interact with his or her partner. Some GFS students were at a loss. Their partners could not hold scissors, could not speak, could not sit up straight. Gradually after watching some of their classmates, each found a way to work with a partner and complete the project.

Meanwhile, the children who had gone to the classrooms came back amazed. They had discovered that some HMS students were learning the same multiplication facts that they were. Some were doing division that they couldn't. Many GFS students quickly became fascinated by the language boards which were attached to some wheelchairs and contained pictures, numbers, or symbols that the HMS child used for communicating ideas.

Once the activities began and most of the children were interacting, I could hear the GFS children talking and encouraging their partners to finish. Similarly, the smiles they received from their HMS partners encouraged and excited the GFSers. Reading Larry's eyes and following them to the language board, Casey found out that he loved to eat at McDonald's, too. Luke saw that Mindy grinned when the 76ers were mentioned. There were giggles from one corner as several children teased each other. The tension had broken and understanding had begun. As we left and good-byes echoed in the hall, Ari and Michael asked, "When can we come back?" I knew then that the butterflies had gone and we needed to learn more.

During our next exchange we did a physical activity. With the help of Tom Kovic, our gym teacher, we played some group games with a parachute. We also played individually with our partners, taking them out of their wheelchairs and giving them some physical stimulation. We enjoyed our second visit but something was missing. Little did we know that at the Home sentiment was being expressed by the staff that the exchange was too one-sided. GFS was giving but not necessarily understanding what the capabilities of the HMS students were.

A Musical Play

As Andrea Green, the HMS musical therapist, listened to the discussion, she had an idea for a musical play which would use the talents of both groups to achieve understanding. She saw the metaphor of two farms separated by a fence. The children would portray animals on separate farms who persuade the farmers to take the fence down, and in the process of working together the farmers become friends. This was a perfect vehicle for doing a joint project with equal input from both groups. Yet I wondered, "How much would the cerebral palsy children be able to do if some could not speak and some could not walk?" I was soon to learn how much they could contribute.

Andrea began composing music for the play and creating parts for the HMS and GFS students so that they could participate equally. The intelligence, talents, and dignity of the HMS students began to emerge. We were spellbound as HMS' Zach sang an emotional rendition of "Good Friends." His voice rang clear and true as he swayed and clapped to the words and music. Everyone was proud of Zach, but the HMS students seemed extra proud of his performance. The words to the song became our theme song:

Good Friends should stick together
In the bad times as well as the good.
Friends should share some secrets
Open some doors
Good Friends could
Be there when you need them
Ready to listen
No matter what the time of day
Good Friends should always be that way.

The music in the play had power. We found ourselves singing the songs during the day and at night.

Other HMS students began to impress us. Vincent amazed us with his ability to program a snake on the computer and make it dance. He also worked with GFS' Stephen to tape farmyard animal sounds, creating sound effects activated during the play by a headstick. Pam Price had great appeal as the pig using gestures and facial expressions to accompany the words to the music. Mindy knew every word in the musical and came in on cue reaching down and training with her whole body to sing the words. Many of the other HMS students who did not have speech participated by moving in their wheelchairs to the beat of the music and laughing out loud to the music and movement as they were wheeled around stage by their GFS partners. No longer did I wonder what they would be able to do or how much it would mean to them.

As we rehearsed, we got to know one another better. We even practiced on Saturdays without the strictures of school schedules. Parents became involved as they listened to their children talk about their evolving friendships and as they transported their children in carpools during the week and on Saturdays. One day Emily commented that the HMS children seemed so happy to see us each time we came. It was just the way she felt when her good friends came over to her house to play after school. For the HMS children the school was their home and should be a place for friends to come to play.

Gradually the awkwardness and anxiety of our first meeting were only a memory. Several children played basketball after our rehearsals. Others talked quietly with their partners, concentrating on their eyes to see what messages could be communicated by the numbers and symbols on the language board. Still others pushed their partners outside into the park and wheeled them through the play area. Several were curious about their partners' rooms and went down the hall to see their stuffed animals or their wall posters of Michael Jackson and Julius Erving. Leaving was always hard. Before we left, we had a snack of juice and cookies. Many GFS students served and fed their partners naturally and unselfconsciously. With the bus waiting to take us back to GFS, we hurriedly said our good-byes, hearing a few cries and feeling the tugs on our arms as we left.

The Performance

When the day arrived for the play to be performed at GFS, we nervously waited to get an audience reaction. We clapped, sang, and tapped the last chord to the finale, "Celebration Hoedown," and were met by thunderous applause. We felt tremendous pride in performing the play. The HMS students were exhilarated by the applause and the bravos they heard and felt.

Several in the audience stood and gave us an ovation. Others came up afterwards to meet our HMS partners and congratulate us on our play. I could see a teacher in the audience sitting speechless, pondering what he had just seen. Afterwards, colleagues came up and told us how moved they were. One teacher said afterwards that the euphoria generated in the play kept going all evening. Letters from schoolmates flowed in the next day. For example, one fifth grader wrote:

Dear Ms. Maebori,
Your play was the most beautiful, moving play that I have ever seen. At GFS or anywhere else. I mean that too. Everyone around me was crying their eyes out, teachers and students alike. To me, the fence on either side of the farm symbolized the barrier of discomfiture that separates ordinary people from different people. When it was taken away, I felt a kind of exhilaration that words cannot express. . . .

We were overwhelmed. The GFS children at this point had come to view the exchange as an enjoyable time with their friends. The accolades seemed too lavish. It was now uncomfortable to receive praise for what had occurred so naturally between people. The HMS students were their friends, and their handicaps no longer interfered with a natural liking and loving between people. We had come a long way since that assembly at the beginning of the year. As Jill commented, "I used to call people 'Retard' if they couldn't do something. But that word has more meaning to me now and I can never use it again to make fun." We continue to work on more musical exchanges between GFS and HMS, trying to build in better communication and understanding but also trying to have fun. No longer do we question, "How Could This Happen?" Our paramount question now is: "When will we see our HMS friends again?"