By Amanda Cutalo, Upper School English
Since the age of three, I’ve been an artist and a performer. However, it wasn’t until I became an English teacher that I realized how much my students could benefit from learning in a theatrical classroom. To be clear, my students still take traditional assessments in my class. They write essays, take reading quizzes, learn new vocabulary words, and correct comma splices. However, when I survey my students, current or former, and ask them “What mattered most to you in our class together?”, the overwhelming majority of them immediately recall a drama-based activity, and their eyes light up as they do. Some may find this surprising. Theater can be terrifying for many, the opposite of “safe,” in fact. It demands so much from us. It asks us to get to know a part of ourselves that we don’t bring out into the world everyday, perhaps out of fear, perhaps because we don’t even know it’s there yet. During my recent poetry unit, for instance, I asked students to choose a poem from the Poetry Out Loud catalogue, analyze it, and perform it in front of their peers. To prepare, we practiced analyzing poems together and, alongside our study of poetic techniques, we approached each poem as if it were a monologue, a speaker’s unique journey through a dramatic situation. Some initially had second thoughts about their poem choices. They feared that their poems and speakers were too weird, too intense to claim as their own. I spoke with several of these students privately at first; I asked them why they were drawn to the poems in the first place. As I moved through each of these conversations with them, one thing became clear: each of these students wanted to be talked into keeping their poems. They wanted that extra nudge to be daring, which I happily gave. They knew the risk would pay off. And in the end, every student found the courage to trust their instincts and move forward with their poems.
As director and founder of Stuart’s Writing Center for the past seven years, I’ve worked to create the same kind of environment- one that gives students the safe space to grow into confident peer writing tutors. Each year, I especially look forward to the tutor training day in the summer. At the beginning of the day, the new junior and senior students tutors are eager to start but often apprehensive with their new roles as leaders. They know they like to write, and they know they have been successful in their past writing assignments. They even know that they were nominated by various faculty members, including me, to assume these leadership positions. And yet, they often fear that they still know nothing about writing or tutoring. Over the course of the day, however, as I throw them into various role play scenarios and mock tutoring sessions- yes, more drama-based activities- they remember why they’re there. Their faces relax, and they begin to throw themselves into the imaginary scenes. These scenes require quick thinking. They deprive them of the opportunity to question their abilities and expertise; they just get to be tutors and respond in the moment to the needs of their students. By the end of the day, while they recognize that they will continue to learn and grow along the way, they know they are ready to begin. And they say so.
However, my students are never alone in these journeys of personal growth. Creating a safe communal space that will not only permit their risk-taking but also celebrate it is crucial. And theater, especially, lends itself to building a community of learners. Something magical happens when a classroom performance is in progress. I’ve had the privilege of witnessing many of these moments over the past 20 years of my career. There’s a collective energy at play- in the gleeful applause and cheers, the reassuring nods, even in the moments of electric silence. It’s the energy that inspires a student who hasn’t spoken all year to transform into the sassy Dorine during a scene performance of Tartuffe or assume the role of Nora Helmer’s attorney during a Doll’s House mock trial. Or the energy that gives a student the imaginative space to build a connection with the introverted student she might tutor with some day. Or the energy that pushes an anxious student to try the exercise one more time, this time in a much bolder voice than she thought she had. Or the energy that gives an entire class of students, many of them with no theater experience, the confidence to become characters at a Gatsby party and speak to one another without feeling self-conscious. Drama-based activities cultivate this kind of communal support because they teach empathy to all participants involved. They all understand the vulnerability that comes with performing in front of a group of people. And they don’t let one another down.
The skills that they build in my classroom extend far beyond the activities themselves. Each time they successfully perform in front of their peers or walk away from a productive training session, their pride and confidence is tangible. They know that “a lot” has been asked of them, both as individuals and as members of their learning community, and they have risen to meet this challenge with courage, vulnerability, and compassion. With these experiences, they learn to lead.