I happily accepted an invitation to Birch Vocational School’s end-of-the-year production of High School Musical. I needed an up. What with all the rain, the economic collapse and clinically-depressing local news, I was sure Birch’s very special students would produce an endearing version of the Disney-manufactured teen sensation.

They did not disappoint.

The Harold A. Birch Vocational Program educates 75 high-school students with severe-profound disabilities. Tucked in a wing of Providence’s Mt. Pleasant High School, Birch works with the kids until they transition into the adult system at age 21. Larry Roberti, principal for 21 years, says, “I have five classes of kids with IQs below 70, and three with IQs below 40.” But, he whispers, as the house lights dim in the high school’s big theater, “that’s just a number. That’s not the person.”

As if to illustrate his point, the first performance of the morning was not the musical, but a project called I wear the mask. The Black Repertory Theater and Very Special Arts (VSA) of Rhode Island teamed up to mix regular Mt. Pleasant students with a group from Birch. In a semicircle of big conga drums, a group of very diverse performers drummed on their own as well as backing up “spoken-word artists,” singers and dancers. The kids had made masks and written scenes to dramatize their efforts to hide their emotions.

Jeannine Chartier, director of VSA says, “The Birch students want to fit in, like any other student. They feel they never can. So to get up on stage and be celebrated for their abilities is a great experience.”

Chartier was herself a polio victim and now uses crutches. “When I was I child, we had no access to anything. People with disabilities were just not included. For me the arts were a saving grace. This collaboration between Black Rep artists, Mt. Pleasant and Birch students turns everyone on and makes them enthusiastic and excited in ways that don’t exist much in anyone’s regular school days. The arts offer students other ways of expressing themselves, and while all students need that, these students especially do.”

Shalanda for example, was a stand-out dancer, with lots of moves and perfect rhythm.

Somnang drummed and danced with the “Birch Beat Players.”

Most kids were amazingly accurate about keeping the beat.

Filing quietly into the theater, as the drummers played, were family groups and classes of “severe-profound” students from other Providence middle and high schools. So when art teacher Mary McMurtery introduced High School Musical, the audience was substantial and the kids’ excitement palpable.

McMurtery explained that lots of kids wanted to play the leading roles — basketball star Troy and brainiac Gabriella — so several pairs would take turns. And to bring the play to a manageable length, McMurtery narrated events that took place between the edited scene selections and musical numbers.

All Birch students were on stage, minus absentees. A few seemed lost, sitting in chairs at the back of the simple set, swaying mostly. The kids in the chorus were working hard to be in the right place at the right time, to remember the words and choreography.

The kids at the foreground won me over immediately. Carmen, for one, was born to play the haughty role of the queen bee rival to Gabriella. She had a Hawaiian lei that she flung about like a boa, affecting great snottiness. She flounced and flirted and was an audience favorite.

Kevin could really dance, locking and popping with the best.

And Shalanda was back, this time bringing down the house with her shimmies and footwork. A star in her white dress and thousand-watt smile, she finished her number by alternately blowing kisses and bowing like an opera diva.

Sharmey Holloman, Birch special-education teacher, whispered, “They’re completely uninhibited. I kind of envy that.”

Every once in a while, a child waved to friends or family, as if to say “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Holloman says, “We try to find a strength and build on that. Like some have an excellent sense of humor, or social skills. So we work with that.” Two boys could really spin basketballs, so they were front and center in the basketball scenes.

She continues, “Doing a play helps them with memory, helps them with focus. I tell them that if you can do this, you can do anything. One child’s dad is a jazz musician who was shocked to see his daughter keeping rhythm, and speaking into the mike. This is the only place like this in the state. Birch kids have parties, dinner dances. They get to do what normal kids do, have a life and a genuine high school experience. I love my job. I feel useful here.”

People complain that education costs have risen steeply in the last quarter century, often driven by special education. While waste is despicable, helping kids like these to have meaningful, contributing lives is not. In the past, as Chartier notes, these kids were just their family’s bad luck. More recently, at no small expense, the community has been stepping up to help. Taxpayers can be proud of what they’ve done at Birch.

As the Birch actors launched into the song-and-dance finale, some wriggled, unable to contain their excitement. They’d done well, no serious hitches. So the curtain call had all the glory and triumph of an NBA championship win.

Families stood for an ovation and clapped and cheered and hooted. Parents wept. The kids beamed and hugged their friends first, and then streamed into the audience, nestling proudly in the bosom of their families. I was beaming myself.

Julia Steiny, a former member of the Providence School Board, consults for government agencies and schools; she is co-director of Information Works!, Rhode Island’s school-accountability project. She can be reached at juliasteiny@gmail.com, or c/o EdWatch, The Providence Journal, 75 Fountain St., Providence, RI 02902.