Passing On.

Why we’ll be shouting about those who are making a difference.

Andrew Harries

This week has been tough. Not just because of the difficulty of bad weather and transport which can throw a real spanner in the work for travelling freelancers, but my life was touched by both covid & grief. It’s the first time I’ve contracted covid, but unfortunately the presence of grief has been uncommonly common in my life (I’m at the point of having a ‘grief themed’ playlist on Spotify, made of songs that remind me of all the people I have lost – it’s playing as I write this). As many of you will understand, this experience doesn’t makes things easier as every grieving process is different.

This time I lost someone I would consider a mentor, Andrew Harries. This is not a eulogy, I do not have the authority to write such a thing and though he was gloriously, bravely outspoken in his life and work, I can’t claim to know exactly his beliefs and hopes. What I can talk about with certainty is the influence he had on me. Without him I would not be where I am. He gave me a chance to be an assistant director before almost anyone else. He gave me a chance to lead workshops before anyone else. But it’s not his influence on my CV that I want to talk about, it’s his influence on me and the knock on effect that has had. The trust and confidence I have in myself now comes in part from my experiences with him, confidently trusting me with jobs that I thought no one would. This trust and confidence in myself underpins everything I do and has encouraged me to go on and lead countless workshops helping other young people to feel that same confidence in themselves. I am not alone here, I know there are a large number of facilitators that could say the same, just think about the scale of that knock on effect he has had.

 

This week I have wished and hoped he knew the positive effect he had on me. Friends and family (& my therapist) have reassured me that he did, but that’s not the point, the point is that people as influential as Andrew should hear what an incredible difference they are making every day. This led me to think about the Twitter debate happening in the wake of Lyn Gardner’s article on our industry’s disregard for theatre made with and for young people. Recently I have started to think about the heroes within our circle and how I hope they will one day be held up and applauded for their work as much as any Olivier-award-winning director or actor. Maybe these people don’t get the coverage they deserve because our work attracts humble & generous people who don’t shout so much about their achievements, or maybe it’s because th… ah, who cares why they don’t get the coverage, the point is that they don’t. So we’re going to try and give them the coverage, because they deserve it.

 

Over the next couple of months we will be interviewing and writing about people who are giving our world and specifically our industry, so much. They don’t wait for others to solve the problems they see with the world, they are self-starters and that is the energy we’re going into this with – making sure these people see their value, not hoping someone else tells them.

As a parting gift on one project, Tash Marks and I created a collection of lego people based on what the young people wanted to be when they grew up.

So who are the people we will be talking to? They are master-practitioners in accessibility, creators of youth theatres, mentors, people who have worked with young people their entire career, masters of teaching training actors & many more types of outstanding individuals. They will all be people that have had a profound impact on mine and/or Jess’s work and practice. We will be talking to them about not just what they do, but why they do it and how, and hopefully posing a few Qs that highlight just why our industry is so much brighter and stronger with them in it.

 

These conversations and descriptions will cover just a small amount of the work these people do, after all working with young people forces to you develop parts of yourself you never expected to, it makes you become a parent, a disciplinarian (!), a motivational speaker and a friend among many other roles. This is where I start to think of times where I saw this exemplified in Andrew and other mentors, and I encourage you to do the same. I want you to think about the first time you saw someone take the attention of a space without shouting, the first time you saw someone who was able to help engage a reticent presence or even just the first time you saw an adult crack a joke that a group of young people laughed at. Because these small, surprising moments are really important – they can in fact be the reason someone grows up to become a workshop leader and continues that ripple of inspiration into the next generation.

When I read, I usually read non-fiction, very rarely do I open a novel and I never finish one. I have a large amount of reading on the topic of grief and the surprising thing here is that most of it is fictional – perhaps that’s because the depth of feeling I have on this topic cannot be explained, only interpreted. What it has given me is a vast collection of references to try and interpret what grief is. When I think of the work Andrew has done and his legacy, this quote comes to me from ‘Grief Is The Thing With Feathers’ by Max Porter:

“the boys shouted

I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

and their voice was the life and song of their mother. Unfinished. Beautiful. Everything.”

This is what we will look to highlight in these interviews and blog posts, those who’s voices are carrying on this important song.

By Ed.

(CHILD Founder)

 

Please let us know those people who you think we should interview and shout-out.

Please also send us your best memories of observing your mentors, leaders or peers – we really would love to hear them.

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