Issue 23: Dystinct Journey of Dan Graham

Dan's Story

Dan's journey began with a fight for survival. Born without breathing for the first ten minutes of his life, Dan spent his earliest days in a humidity crib, reliant on machines to breathe. This problematic start was just the beginning of a series of challenges that would shape his life. Diagnosed with mild cerebral palsy, Dan didn't walk or talk until he was five years old. "I had to go through speech therapy, occupational therapy - the whole gamut," he recalls. While his mild cerebral palsy does affect his coordination and ability to write for long periods, Dan has always resisted labels. "If I had to choose one, I'd call myself neurodivergent," he says, preferring this term over any other.

I hate labels full stop. I would call myself neurodivergent if there had to be a tag.

Dan's primary school years were marked by significant challenges, with his close relationship with his mother and grandmother his only saving grace. His mother, the assistant principal at his primary school, understood the difficulties he faced and took an active role in his education. "I always say my education happened at home. Mum and Gran took me to all my therapy sessions. I didn't like it at times, but obviously my mum wanted to be my mum. She didn't want to be the teacher," Dan reflects. Despite his mum's support, Dan often felt misunderstood at school, where he was seen as "the stupid person" or "the weird person" and was frequently bullied.

Art became Dan's "salvation" during those difficult years, and his introduction to theatre came early, largely thanks to his mother and grandmother. "Gran took me to an old-school musical called Sugar Babies when I was around five," he recalls. "At the end of Act One, the chorus boys threw bags of lollies into the audience, and I grabbed one. From that moment on, I was totally sucked into theatre." His storytelling, however, began even earlier at home, where he had an obsession with stuffed toy monkeys. "I had about 15 of them, and I'd create whole plays with them -they were my first actors," he shares. His mother, with her background in music and theatre, also played a key role. "She directed plays, ran choirs, and introduced me to the arts. She's the one who truly inspired my love for theatre."

By the time Dan reached year four, it became clear that he was still struggling despite his mum's help. After a series of evaluations, he was diagnosed with dyslexia, adding another layer to the complexities of his education. His mother arranged for him to attend a program at Macquarie University, where he received intensive literacy support. "They taught me in less than a year how to read, which comes in pretty handy when you're a director," Dan recalls with a smile. One moment from that time still sticks with him - the end-of-year show. "I remember this vividly. It was The Gingerbread Man, and I was shattered. I wasn't cast as the Gingerbread Man, and after all these years, I probably hold that grudge still," he laughs. "The funny thing is, I was cast as the narrator because I was informed that I was the best reader."

My earliest memory of theatre was when I was about five and just starting to talk and my gran took me to an old-school musical called Sugar Babies

In year five, Dan's mother decided it was no longer healthy for him to attend the same school where she was the assistant principal, so he transferred to a new local primary school. However, the transition was far from smooth. "Those years were hell," Dan recalls. Like many neurodiverse individuals, he faced challenges with coordination and fine motor skills, making simple tasks feel monumental. "I remember asking my teacher if I could have help drawing a line, and he said, 'Yeah, no worries, just give me a second.' He came back with what felt like a thousand rulers - though it was probably 10 - and threw them on my desk, saying, 'Try and draw a line now, Dan,' and laughed. All the other kids laughed, too." Despite these humiliations and being bullied regularly, Dan was unexpectedly elected as a prefect at the end of the year. "Year six and year four voted for me because I was always protecting other kids who were bullied," Dan says. While the role didn't make him any more popular, it did solidify his sense of standing up for what was right.

I'm 45 now, and I’m not easily triggered. But I'm literally back in that moment now when I recall how he threw those rulers at me and laughed.

"I was bullied mercilessly," Dan reflects. He acknowledges that his interests were anything but typical for his age. "I followed Shakespeare and Stephen Sondheim for good measure, weird for a normal 12-year-old, which probably didn't help things at that primary school," he admits. For Book Week, while other kids dressed up as popular characters of the day, Dan decided to go as Hamlet, borrowing his mum's big, bowed blouse and a pair of her tights. "No wonder why I was bullied," he laughs.

As Dan approached the end of year six, the final year of primary school, Dan's struggles in school were weighing heavily on both him and his family. Concerned about his well-being, his mother and grandmother decided to take him on an eight-week trip to Edinburgh, Scotland. It was Christmas 1991, and although the trip was meant to provide a break from the difficulties Dan was facing, it turned into a transformative experience. "I vividly remember watching Into the Woods by Stephen Sondheim and Henry V by Kenneth Branagh, and in that moment, I felt safe," Dan shares. The simplicity of the holiday made it even more memorable. "We didn't have a Christmas tree, so we picked one up from the floor and got a few ribbons from a $2 shop," he says. "That Christmas was probably the most special time of my childhood." Though he didn't fully realise it at the time, this trip marked the beginning of his vision for a future in the performing arts.

After returning from Scotland, Dan entered high school, but the lack of support persisted. "Years seven, eight, nine, and ten were just as unsupportive," he recalls. To help him cope, his mother enrolled him in acting classes at the Australian Theatre for Young People (ATYP), not to make him a "star" but to get him "out of my shell". "I wasn't shy, but I was very reserved after being bullied for so long," Dan explains. It was at ATYP that, for the first time, he felt "recognised as someone who might have something to offer."

Mum sent me to acting classes, not to create a star, but more to get me out of my shell after years of daily bullying.

By the end of year ten, Dan's experience at his high school had reached a breaking point. At the end-of-year meeting, his teacher suggested to his mother that Dan should consider "packing boxes in a sheltered workshop." Dan remembers the absurdity of it all and laughs, "The joke is, I can't pack a box to save my life now." Determined to find a better path, Dan went for an audition at his local performing arts school, Gladfield College. "Pretty much all my HSC subjects were arts and performing arts," Dan explains. The new school provided him with a much-needed change. "It was probably the best part of my education—I felt acknowledged at school for the first time," he reflects.

A lot of the stuff that my mum has had to put up with, no one should have to put up.

Dan secured a one-day-a-week internship at the Sydney Theatre Company during his final years of high school, thanks to Bridget, a receptionist he befriended at the ATYP. "She saw something in me and got me an interview there," he recalls. For 18 months, Dan spent one day a week sitting in on rehearsals and observing productions, gaining his first real exposure to professional theatre. Determined to prove those who doubted him wrong, Dan focused on completing year 12 over two years to balance both his studies and the internship. "It sounds ridiculous after being told to pack boxes in a sheltered workshop, but I was determined to get into university," he shares.

After completing year 12, Dan and his mother made the decision to move to Hobart, Tasmania. "We had no other family; it was just Mum and me, and we were going through a tough time after losing Gran," Dan recalls. The move was intended as a fresh start and a chance to heal. Dan enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts in Communication at the University of Tasmania. His time at university was a mixed experience. "Probably for the first time, I actually had a group of friends," Dan shares. However, the academic support that was promised by the university never fully materialised. "They promised proper student support, including a scribe and a reader for exams, but none of that was provided," he recalls. Despite these challenges, Dan found encouragement from some of his lecturers, including Jonathan Dawson, a film studies professor and his first mentor. "He was the first person to tell me I had talent and that he could see me as a director," Dan shares. Dawson's support was pivotal in shaping Dan's path toward a career in theatre.

Jonathan Dawson was the first person to tell me I had talent and that he could see me as a director.

After completing his BA, Dan's mentor, Jonathan Dawson, encouraged him to pursue film directing courses. "He totally thought that was the way I was going to go," Dan explains. However, due to his fine motor skill challenges, operating the cameras proved impossible. Despite this, Dan's passion for theatre remained strong, and although he was offered a place in Technical Production at NIDA, the course felt too restrictive. "I couldn't transfer from Technical Theatre to Directing, and directing was the route I had decided to go." This decision led him to enrol in the Master's in Theatre (Directing) program at UTAS School of Arts in Launceston. Though he had a wealth of experience from his time at ATYP and Sydney Theatre Company, Dan's presence in the master's program was met with some resistance. "People weren't happy that I was doing a master's in theatre without having done an undergraduate degree in theatre," he shares. "They didn't have a clue that I had been involved in theatre all my life." He later learned that some of his peers had been instructed not to speak to him because he was seen as "weird" and "different."

Despite the social challenges, Dan immersed himself in his work, directing plays like Christie in Love by Howard Brenton and Thirst by Eugene O'Neill. For his major project, he chose A Kind of Alaska by Nobel Prize-winning playwright Harold Pinter. The play, about a young girl who wakes from a deep sleep at 30, became a metaphor for Dan's own experience during the master's program, which often felt isolating and self-directed. "I felt like I was in this kind of Alaska wilderness," he reflects. After completing his master's, Dan knew that to pursue real opportunities in theatre, he would need to move back to Sydney. "Tassie is a beautiful place, but it's very limited in terms of opportunities," he explains. Taking the advice of his mentors, Dan relocated to Sydney, where the vibrant theatre scene offered him the prospects he needed to grow as a director.

After moving back to Sydney, Dan began directing wherever he could, taking on internships at prestigious companies like Opera Australia and Bell Shakespeare. He also started an honours program in Performance Studies at the University of Sydney. His thesis focused on how a playwright's intent is realised through a director's vision. "I'm a huge believer in staying true to the playwright," he says. Originally planning to conduct just four interviews, Dan ended up interviewing 25 playwrights and directors, many of whom became close colleagues. His work was placed in the University of Sydney library, where thousands have since accessed it for their own research.

People with disabilities want to create a life in the performing arts, but the system holds them back; we must create opportunities so they can believe it's possible.

During this time, Dan became acutely aware of the lack of opportunities for neurodiverse and disabled performing artists. This realisation prompted him to advocate for such artists, a role he still embraces today. "I wear two hats now," Dan says. "One as a Theatre Director and the other as a Disability Arts Advocate." Despite challenges in the field, Dan remains optimistic about his impact, sharing that many professional artists, particularly those early in their careers, have reached out to him. "Some fear disclosing their neurodivergence, believing it will limit their opportunities. It's disheartening when diversity is such a focus in the arts, yet disability and neurodiversity often get left out of the conversation."

Dan's directing career continued to flourish in recent years, particularly after the pandemic. He directed the Australian premiere of Teenage Dick by Mike Lew for Curtin University's Drama School in Perth and an opera, Before Breakfast by Eugenia O'Neill, with performers from the Australian Opera. He was also offered a position at Sydney's Brand X, where he established an arts support scheme for professional artists with disabilities. His work on Teenage Dick was revisited in Sydney and received strong reviews. In collaboration with Bell Shakespeare, Dan is currently investigating Shakespeare's attitude toward disability and neurodiversity in his plays through a project he proposed and directed with a cast of six actors.

Dan has served on various boards and committees, including the Board of Arts Access Australia, the MEAA Artists with Disability Committee, and the Create NSW Theatre Board. His involvement in national and international workshops, conferences, and working groups has helped shape discussions around accessibility in the performing arts. Dan is currently co-developing two productions in Melbourne—WOLF, inspired by Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and Closet Drama, which explores transgender and neurodiverse experiences through the lens of Shakespeare.

Dan has been awarded numerous scholarships and fellowships, including the prestigious Churchill Fellowship, in recognition of his contributions to theatre and advocacy. Encouraged by friends who had received the fellowship themselves, Dan decided to apply, though he admits, "I didn't think I stood a chance, to be honest." After navigating two rounds of interviews and completing a rigorous application process with the help of a friend, Dan was awarded the fellowship. "It's a well-respected platform, and I thought it would be a great opportunity to continue my work in neurodiversity and access in the performing arts," he explains. The fellowship provided him with eight weeks to meet leaders in the field, allowing him to explore how access departments, particularly for neurodiverse artists, function across various theatre companies. This recognition and opportunity have further solidified Dan's role as a pioneer in making the arts more inclusive for all.

I would hope that accessibility and inclusion becomes so embedded into our lives that it just becomes second nature and we don't need to have this conversation.

Looking ahead, Dan hopes for a future where accessibility and inclusion in the performing arts are so ingrained in the industry that they no longer need to be topics of conversation. He dreams about a time when the arts industry would genuinely embrace diversity and not just pay lip service as he feels it does now. "It's not about ticking a box," he emphasises, "but about genuinely understanding and creating opportunities for everyone, especially neurodiverse and disabled artists."

When asked what advice he would give to individuals with dyslexia who may feel discouraged by their diagnosis, Dan offers a simple message: "To quote Finding Nemo, keep on swimming. Keep going." He acknowledges that everyone has bad days but emphasises the importance of persistence. "Do I have all the answers? Absolutely not," he admits. "But know that there's something you're good at. Focus on that and believe in yourself. If you can look in the mirror and see a decent person, that's a big part of it."

Dan Graham

Extracts from Dystinct Magazine