“Sometimes you have to figure out what it isn’t, to figure out what it is, “I say as I adjust the blocking on a scene. Then, I get down on the stage, shuffle about, leap, and contort my body in a wild fashion, merely to hand off a paper crane to a student. Some of my advanced kiddos snicker, some just watch, but all of them realize the offering that is being made – create. Create without fear or limits, but with compassion for your peers. Just create!

 

Creation, however, rarely ever happens on command. Oftentimes, in art, the final product is the result of a great deal of trial and error. It is for this reason, I encourage my students to take artistic risks and potentially fail. To fail, regardless of what many classroom posters may say, is an option. No  one is a failure, though, unless of they refuse to learn from their faults. To avoid failure onstage, as well as in life, by always doing the predictable thing is to become stagnant as a performer and human being. In education, our classrooms are a safe place to explore a degree of failure through questioning and practice, and I believe we only fail as educators when our students do not grow from the opportunities we offer.  In this way, our students can better learn from their shortcomings and create better futures for themselves.

 

That is what brings me pleasure. No, not failure. Knowing that theatre is one of the few places where kids can be free to be bold, to be brave, and make mistakes, because to be predictable, to be what your audience expects, means you have become boring. This does not mean we push the boundaries of convention, but that we redefine them for the sake of art and social relevance. And, if we happen to win some awards (or a lot) along the way, I like those, too. As long as we create art together, I am teaching and making an impact, which is what gives me the greatest pleasure as a teacher.