Drama: The Most Important Subject?
Anne in Anne of Green Gables (R in group photo, and R.), ca. 1999
Everything I really needed I learned in theatre. Community. Perspective-taking. Pitching in behind the scenes, regardless of my acting role. The vitality of ideas generated by multidisciplinary teams. Democracy. Staying organized at school (so my parents would let me spend evenings and weekends at rehearsals). Thank you cards. Most importantly, theatre connected me to teaching autistic students. (I’ll get there in a moment.)
By the time university rolled around, I'd had dozens of stage credits. Surprising no one, I studied theatre (as well as anthropology and history). Before and after my undergrad degree, I was employed by three Toronto theatres in various capacities and also worked as a playwright, actor, stage manager, and producer - a sort of theatrical Jill of all trades.
My parents, understandably, worried theatre wasn't the most secure. (It probably wasn't.) They worried my anxiety around auditioning would be a barrier. (It probably was.) When my mom brought up teacher's college, I balked. No way!
Then, an opportunity presented itself. Develop and teach drama lessons for small groups of autistic students. Appease my parents and test the waters of teaching. To my surprise, these sessions soon became the highlight of each week.
My first day, I was flummoxed by the brilliant imaginations and teamwork these students demonstrated – all my reading prep had stressed that autistic children lacked imagination or the ability to enter into the imaginations of others. This was categorically wrong: my students possessed the capacity for shared imagination and play if I structured it first and they felt comfortable with me and with each other! I loved helping students see themselves as actors. I loved playing with them in scenes, laughing with them, and asking for their insights during scene analysis. Almost immediately I learned to harness their vivid imaginations through structured improvisations. Their creativity especially shone when scenes required cooperation to find solutions to all sorts of challenges I threw at them! One of the students was hysterical during an improvisation on a mission to Mars. His teacher said she’d never seen him crack a smile before. He started joking around with students at other unstructured times. It was remarkable. As much as drama unlocked something in him, it was also unlocking something in me. Within a few months, I had my Master’s Research topic!
Cornerstones of Teaching Drama
Just as I benefitted from theatre, I saw the impact of drama on my first classes of students! Roleplaying is a fantastic tool to teach students how to play, problem-solve and consider other perspectives. It is a kinesthetic and visual way of teaching that every gesture, tone of voice and facial expression carries meaning. Social communication is so complex, and drama is a vehicle to explore this, freeze-frame when necessary, and test out ways of communicating you might never have tried before!
All classes had a predictable structure, although the activities varied. First, I started with a check-in where I introduced the theme of the class, got their ideas, and assessed how they were feeling. Then, we’d move on to some sort of silent walking warm up, where I’d challenge students to focus on their body in space (and not on what their classmates were doing) and on listening to and interpreting my directions. They would physicalize various directions, ranging from concrete to very abstract concepts! This transitioned to an energizing focuser group game, where students had to tune into the cues of one another, such as Zip, Zap, Zoop or passing and receiving an imaginary ball (each thrower could change the speed, size, weight, and other characteristics, depicting the transformation before throwing it). Then, we’d rehearse for scene performances and analysis. If time permitted, we’d do a cool down.
Drama teaches - and requires - flexibility. During classes, I provided students with parameters for activities and then let them do the rest, giving them plenty of creative license and leeway. If there was an odd number of students, I’d jump in as a scene partner, but would ask them what they thought we should do in the scene. Otherwise, I was the creative director, circulating and giving feedback before performance. “Wow, I loved how you showed surprise with your whole body! Make sure to keep doing that!” I’d prompt or make suggestions as I circulated, and would only pull the “I’m the director” card if students were producing something that included mature (or very immature) content that wasn’t necessary for the assigned task. I would always give them the logical reason why I was asking them to change their vision. I’d ask what they’d like to do instead. If they had no solutions to offer, or if the idea would still get me in trouble with the principal, I’d say something like, “Ahh, well that’s an idea, but it’s not what I’ve asked for. I want to see what you can come up with while still doing X. It’s a challenge!” or “You will be able to make your own skits later on, but right now I want to see if you can make a skit while following instructions.” When I could, I’d work their ideas into the next sessions. I was challenged to think creatively on my feet, just as they were.
Everyone can find a role. For students who really didn’t want to act, I’d challenge them to participate in other capacities – assistant director, as the student starting the warm up game, walking across the stage and calling “Scene!” and “Cut!”, and more. Audience members had an important role we’d review before scenes. They didn’t just focus on their performance as actors; when offstage, their job was to study the scene. Sometimes, I’d give a specific prompt to watch for, such as “how does the meaning of the phrase change in the second skit?” After, actors had to patiently wait while we discussed their scene. I’d ask the audience what certain characters intended or were likely feeling. “How could you tell? What specifically about their face, body, and tone of voice told you that?” We got to talk about tactics – how everyone wants something, but might not SAY it. We have to be detectives and look for the clues. Little did they know, they were learning lots about real-life interactions as they went!
As students became more comfortable, I could challenge them to step out of their comfort zone more and more. Sometimes when I introduced a new group game, I’d tell students that “Oh, this is a really tough activity – I did it in university!” They loved rising to the challenge.
Actors came to understand that audience members may interpret things differently than they intended. The director’s job is to help them clarify what they are trying to communicate. After each performance, I would give them lots of positive reinforcement and I might ask them to perform it again, sometimes exaggerating an emotion (e.g., “I want to see EVEN MORE surprise from you!”) or asking them to be more understated. (I remember saying to two scene partners that a teacher would never get so angry and abusive, or they’d lose their job. Was there another way the teacher could motivate the student to get to work?) Sometimes, we’d make a silent scene have words or try to freeze frame on a particular emotion. They had to respond to my direction and explanation.
Sometimes performers forgot audiences can’t see everything the performers are imagining. (One moment, the actors were in a space ship and the next, they will be running and yelling and the audience had no clue where.) I would ask the actors to describe what happened in the scene, and then explain where any continuity errors occurred. “Try again, but this time, tell us the plan. Show us getting out of seats, exiting the spaceship, and then react to the new planet. You can even say what you’re thinking about how it all looks!”
“Hey, it’s safe to get off the rocket!” (Unbuckle seat belts, open door. Observe strange new world.)
“ . . . Woah, did you see that? I think it’s a robot! It’s huge! Were those laser eyes? We’d better run!”
In rehearsal, 2018
I still dabble in theatre performance when I get the chance, and drama remains fundamental to my classroom. I love how much it has to teach everyone in the room – myself included. How lucky am I, that I get to learn, play and have fun, deepening my connection with students all the time?
And I still think everything useful I’ve ever learned, I encountered first in theatre!
A card from one of my first drama students.