Today I began teaching theatre class (after school) at my kid’s school in New Orleans. It is a curriculum I am designing, and they will be doing an adaptation of several of Shel Silverstein’s poems from WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS.
The last time I taught elementary level drama classes was right after I got my MFA, and I taught Kindergarten – 5th grade drama once a week at a Catholic school in Queens.
I can remember, in a very visceral way, exactly how overwhelmed I felt about that teaching job. I had never taught such little kids. I was fresh out of grad school, having done some wild and esoteric theatre over the summer at THE BERKSHIRE THEATRE FESTIVAL, and having completed an internship with LONG WHARF THEATRE – where I got to act alongside some theatre greats – JEFFERSON MAYS (who won the Tony for I AM MY OWN WIFE) and FRANK WOODS (who won the Tony for SIDEMAN).
But I felt majorly out of my league teaching these little ones.
And I felt that again today. BUT, the difference was, I didn’t feel AFRAID. I felt like I would figure it out. I have kids of my own now, and so know better how to negotiate and redirect. I am so much less afraid to make things a work in progress at this stage of my life – whereas back then, I felt I had to know everything. I was afraid to not know everything.
I want to try and blog about this teaching experience, along with other aspects of my career over the next several months – as I think it is time to take stock again.
SO – to sum up – here is what I learned today:
- You must run little children like horses first, if you expect them to focus on theatre after a long day at school. Next week – we shall run them ragged!
- As much as it hurts to do so, you have to be pretty strict on the first day of class, to establish your role as the authority figure. I definitely utilized time-outs, and talks, and as much as I hated to make a couple kids sad, I think it was necessary for a good start to the semester.
- Although the world would have you believe that all our kids are TV and video game zombies, this is not the case. The sense of wonder I encountered, as I helped my littlest ones read through SARAH STOUT by Shel Silverstein, was enchantment at it’s best.
- I don’t care if the play is “good”.
Let me clarify that last one – of course we will practice, and do our best. But it is lovely to not care about product as much as I used to, and care more about the experience. I have so much to learn! Talk soon!
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