| ‘They Are Our Spiritual Teachers’ |
 Several years earlier this particular performer was so violent that he had to be watched 24 hours a day in the institution for those with mental retardation where he lived. That changed when his case manager had him take part in the art- and drama-therapy services in the day program called ADTI, in which CUA alumna Sirkku Sky Hiltunen developed her innovative Therapeutic Noh Theater® services for adults with intellectual disabilities. When he first came to ADTI, the man on stage was frightening because he would hit others very hard, remembers Hiltunen, who was born and raised in Finland and who usually goes by the name Dr. Sky. “I taught him kung fu kicks and movements to use while dancing, and — given an opportunity to ventilate his anger in a safe environment — he was able to begin to work his aggression out. Not only that, but his self-esteem has gone up because he was appreciated and praised for his performances. When you feel good about yourself, you don’t have to prove yourself and you don’t have to fight because you already have the acceptance, love and appreciation of people.” The President’s Committee for People with Intellectual Disabilities has called ADTI — which Hiltunen co-founded and co-leads with business partner Margaret Dickinson — a model to be emulated across the country. The secret of its success? Perhaps the way its founders view individuals with intellectual disabilities as their spiritual teachers, or the way Hiltunen and her colleagues guide their charges with loving affirmation rather than control tactics. Another big part of the secret seems to be the therapeutic nature of the arts themselves. Performing in the Noh theater style is a form of “action meditation,” which enables participants to be aware of their present moment and be in control of their bodies, says Hiltunen. “When I begin working with them, their coordination is often very poor and their step unsteady.”  Hiltunen moved from Finland to Washington, D.C., in 1977 to pursue her interest in serving those with intellectual disabilities. She then decided to go to graduate school to better equip herself for her calling. Although many universities gave her the cold shoulder because she was a foreigner with very little money, when she walked onto CUA’s campus for the first time, students took the initiative to say, “Welcome to Catholic University!” and she told herself, “My goodness, I feel like I’ve come home.” She went on to earn her doctorate in education at CUA in 1983, and she and Dickinson opened the Art and Drama Therapy Institute in 1992. A National Model Of the 180 individuals who receive the Medicaid-funded therapy at ADTI, 65 percent originally came with severe behavioral problems such as wounding themselves, hitting others, biting, spitting or breaking things. Now the dancers and musicians perform with no acting-up, and the institute’s 70 staff members offer participants training in everything from tying shoes and brushing teeth to writing poetry, painting, singing, playing instruments, acting, dancing, puppetry and creating ceramics. The clients enjoy it so much that they maintain an attendance rate of 90 percent, compared to 40 to 50 percent at other D.C.-area treatment facilities. And many of the clients have improved dramatically in life skills, socialization, and emotional and physical control. One retired staff member of a D.C. facility for individuals with intellectual disabilities came to see a performance at ADTI and told the journal Public Welfare, “I can remember when [the same individuals] couldn’t tie a shoe or even repeat their names. I cried because I was so happy to see such improvement.”  Sirkku Sky Hiltunen (in gray) and some of her richly costumed performers. Newspaper articles about the institute frequently highlight its unusual ambience and goings-on. The interior looks like an art gallery or museum of inter-national antiques, with a huge Chinese wardrobe here, ornate Empire-style furniture there, carved African furniture in the next room, and walls festooned with paintings, masks and other objets d’art from dozens of different countries. Contented-looking clients pass to and fro, socializing or heading to art-therapy groups. Celebrities, including singers Boyz II Men and Chuck Brown, jazz musician Jon Faddis and Emmy Award-winning actress Lynn Whitfield sometimes drop by the institute. And Hiltunen and Dickinson know how to build up the self-esteem of the people they care for — e.g., the institute’s band and choir has recorded a CD that the institute has submitted for a Grammy Award nomination. “So often this population gets the crumbs off the table of life,” says Dickinson. “We want to offer them something first class. They know they’re not loved and accepted [by society], but Dr. Sky adores them. Not many people get to compete for a Grammy, but they do. They know they’re special. They also know that nobody else has Dr. Sky, but they do.” Good Angel’s Tears In one of the plays Hiltunen has written, an angel looks upon the Earth one day and sees that it has become a place of oppression, wars, vanity and cold-heartedness. When the angel sheds tears, they fall to Earth and inside each tear is a little child specially designed to help humanity learn patience, gentleness and love. The children born from the angel’s tears are girls and boys with intellectual disabilities. “It is my belief that individuals with mental retardation are our spiritual teachers,” Hiltunen has written. “They teach patience, acceptance of differences, gentleness and love. What I am able to do for them through my work is only a fragment of what they can do for me. The lower their intelligence quotient, the higher is the level of their teaching.” The play Born From Good Angel’s Tears will be reprised at the institute on April 25 as part of a black-tie gala, and Hiltunen’s performers will dance the role of Good Angel and the children born from that angel’s tears. Each one will dance with a mask on his or her face, as is often the case in Japanese Noh theater. “At the end, the dancers remove their masks, and the audience is struck by it,” says Hiltunen. “They are struck because they come with prejudice — we all have prejudices — and when the dancers are masked, the audience doesn’t know who is who. When they see the reality behind the mask, they are faced with their own prejudice because they say, ‘We thought that was a normal person.’ And so they realize, ‘Oh my gosh, I never would have thought that a person of differing abilities could do that.’ ”  Pictured are Hiltunen’s performers. The actress at far right dances the role of a child newborn from one of Good Angel’s tears. Photos: Ronald Baker Back to top |
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