Ten minutes is a big deal for Georgette Kores. If her eight-year-old son Benjamin can sit through just 10 minutes of a theater performance, it’s a win.
That’s because he processes the world differently.
The loud, exaggerated and dramatic elements that make live theater so magical can be overwhelming for people with special needs like Benjamin. New situations, which tend to make him anxious, can lead to screams and meltdowns.
“He's a beautiful little human who has a complicated and bright life ahead,” Kores said.
Benjamin has an intellectual disability caused by a rare genetic disorder called Coffin-Sirus Syndrome that can come with medical complications such as autism. He is also nonverbal, so he expresses himself with an augmented assistive communication (ACC) device.
Even if it means breaking routine, his mom Kores wants to expose Benjamin to a wide array of experiences, so he can develop his own interests.
Sensory inclusive performances help make that possible.
“As a parent to a child who has a lifelong disability, that's always going to need different support, I want him to experience life in full because he is worthy of that experience,” she said.
Sensory inclusive shows offer accommodations for neurodivergent audiences. That means dialing down loud sound effects and keeping the lights dim but not completely dark. Whereas traditional theater etiquette calls for stillness and silence, it’s O.K. for the audience to make noise and shuffle around in their seats.
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These shows come as an answered prayer for Kores who has had to leave Benjamin with a grandparent in order to do activities with her younger son, Bane. Because these sensory-inclusive performances are just a hour long without intermission, it’s more manageable for Benjamin.
“Even though our family is whole and beautiful as we are, not many spaces like that exist in the community,” she said.
The Broward Center for the Performing Arts is one South Florida venue that offers sensory inclusive programming. What started in 2017 as a pilot program has blossomed into a robust schedule of performances that range from musicals, to plays to magic shows.
Gustavo Padrino, who helped launch the program as part of the center's community engagement team, made it his mission to break down any barriers to entry. That means offering tickets at an affordable price and cultivating a welcoming, secure environment for attendees. Years of community feedback has helped shape their programming.
“When you tell [families] about going to the theater, the first thing that comes to their mind is: ‘Is that really a good environment for me to take my family? ” Padrino said. “We want to have all those answers to their questions so that they know that we got their back.”
Preparation and information is imperative. Attendees going to the Broward Center can access informational videos or a slideshow, spelling out each stage of the theatergoing process in a first-person point of view to help people with special needs understand social cues and expectations.
“What we created is that environment for them to be a family, to have that opportunity to have social interactions and experience the arts,” Padrino said.
Throughout the theater, trained ushers are stationed with fidget toys and noise-cancelling headphones. Meanwhile, cast members mill freely in the lobby, so attendees can meet and get to know the characters they will soon see on stage. If attendees become overstimulated and need a break, there's also a sensory quiet room where a behavioral therapist is available to assist.
Kores, who has found support groups online, said the performances also introduce her to other people in real life who are in similar situations
“ I got to be like a typical-ish mom for that moment. I got to not think about, 'oh my gosh, I'm gonna be inconveniencing people and nobody's gonna understand that my son has this rare disease and I'm just trying to do the best I can,'” Kores said.
It wasn’t always this way. Kores and her husband would take Benjamin outdoors to the park. That changed once the pandemic hit and his world shrunk.
“Even now, five years later, we are really trying to consistently push those boundaries again,” Kores said. “Even though, with his neurodiversity, he is absolutely 110% content staying in his little box with his routines … If I can break him out of that and show him music, a show, the power of theater, then I can also expand his horizon as he grows.”
The arts have always been a therapeutic tool for Benjamin. Kores said she plans to take her family to as many sensory inclusive shows as possible to help Benjamin get accustomed to live theater
“If any other special needs parents hear this it's O.K. to sit in the darkness of a diagnosis for a moment, but you don't have to stay there. It's a new perspective," she said. "You'll get to meet strangers that will see your child as they are and just love on them, and encourage you to keep having the courage and strength and bravery to come back.”
