Students as Teachers: Knowing Your Audience

My school’s Senior One Act Festival is a showcase for our theater department’s seniors to direct, cast, choreograph, and in some cases, even write their own show to perform for an audience. Not only is it a way to allow students to show off their talents in directing and onstage, but it is a venue for seniors to be role models for younger kids. As a follow up from yesterday, I will be featuring the director team from another one of the shows I was cast in. This time, my mentors came in the form of an inseparable pair of senior girls, who I had met around December of this past school year.

At first, I was going to use the One Act Festival as an excuse to hang out with my senior friends. This festival would be the last chance I could ever do a ‘Running Dog Production’ with anyone who had an impending graduation. So, when I was cast in three of the One Acts, I was thrilled. Everyday after school I would have a guaranteed amount of time to be around the seniors. There was a huge problem with my mindset though. As long as I saw the One Acts as an opportunity to relax and goof off, anything I did onstage would reflect that sentiment. Maybe that would fly in a comedy production (like the show where I was cast as a repairman who was hopelessly in love with his washing machine), but in a role that was more serious it would not. How could I accurately portray a disgruntled barista who was behind on rent payments if my attitude towards the whole experience was fully whimsical? Throw in the fact that these two girls had written all of the music, lyrics, dialogue, choreography, staging, etc. and it becomes even more clear that my outlook on this whole situation was going to need to change.

I originally auditioned for a less complex role than the one I was chosen for and to me, that was slightly worrisome. Others may be able to rest upon their laurels and effortlessly act onstage, but due to my lack of experience, it was necessary for me to push myself to put something together that would be performance-ready. Whoever was at the helm of this production was going to need to challenge me to better myself. Making it easy for me would have just permitted a lackadaisical performance, which trust me, was not what was envisioned for this show. On the flip side however, if the environment became toxic and criticism became destructive, I would have totally shut down. What I needed was a director (or directors) that would apply the right amount of pressure - an amount that would improve my acting, singing and stage presence, but would not make me hate every second of the process.

[Enter the team of directors]

From the moment we received our scripts, an expectation was set. Within the next two and a half weeks we would be required to be off-book, with all lines and lyrics memorized. Knowing myself, that deadline was hugely beneficial to me. This gave me room to budget my time in the way that best fit, while still having an end goal in sight. Had there been no completion date, I guarantee I would have put it off until the last second. Had there been an overly structured format for how I learned my lines, I would have harbored potentially mutinous feelings towards the overzealous requirements.

The road to getting off-book was not easy for me. This was all a new situation for me. Luckily enough, the directors were always available for advice or guidance on how to complete the task. I texted the director that was more focused on acting and she almost immediately had help to offer. Even if my questions were elementary to these seasoned actors, I was never made aware of that. Their demeanors always remained patient with me.

This was crucial. Imagine if instead of kindly answering my basic questions, they scoffed at my lack of fundamental acting knowledge. My trust in them would have plummeted. All of their tips and tricks would have come across differently. Rather than treating me with condescension, they brought themselves back down to my level and helped me through the somewhat complicated processes of theater. I was not left behind because I didn’t know the foundational knowledge.

Everyone else in the cast had been onstage before, so they were not forced to listen to the conversations that were helpful for me. These directors’ understanding of the importance of differentiated pacing was admirable. On day one, they did not focus on the nuances of acting or complicated singing riffs. They discussed with me the basics of being onstage. If I already understood something, they did not feel the need to keep hammering that point home. That would have been pointless.

Another great example of their adaptability comes from the day we began to block my singing scene. For the most part, I was able to sing the notes correctly and I was able to perform spoken lines the way they wanted me to, but I couldn’t put both of those ideas together. They tried exercises that they found helpful. Even though this came from the right place, it simply wasn’t helpful. No matter what we tried, every time I sang or acted I looked like two completely different people. That was all until one of them came over to me with a new idea in mind. It occurred to her at that moment that singing and acting together was too overwhelming for me. She removed the singing from the equation. Rather than singing my lyrics, she just wanted me to speak and act them to the best of my ability. Just like that, the message my character was trying to convey became clear. All I needed to do was look at the lyrics from a different perspective.

I was not the only one who was forced to look through a different lens though. Once she saw that her attempts to get through to me her way were futile, my friend had to get into my head. My strengths and weaknesses were not her own. She couldn’t treat me as if I were just an extension of her. It would be useless to persist with the same methods. Trying the same thing over and over and over again is the definition of insanity, right? The lesson she was teaching me was not getting across in its original form. Evolution of the original plan was necessary. Who knows? Working with someone else, the preliminary exercises may have been successful. No two people think the same though, therefore she needed to adapt or risk my continued failure. Teachers should utilize the same thought process. If an assignment is not connecting with students, it’s not going to warrant any results. Knowing your audience in order to connect with them is extremely important, and quite honestly success can hinge on that connection sometimes.

The differentiation that these two girls employed was remarkable, but that wasn’t even my favorite aspect of the whole experience. In any relationship, respect is a building block that cannot be pushed aside. Mutual respect and authentic bonds between mentor and mentee make teaching run so much smoother.

After my very first vocal rehearsal (which included only the writer/director and myself), there was a lot of time to kill before either one of us could go home. She and I sat in the choir room for a couple minutes in silence. I may have met her earlier in the year, but I didn’t really know her that well. That showed during the practice of my song too. While I was now comfortable enough to sing in front of people, I was only ready to do the bare minimum in front of her. She is a super talented vocalist and I was intimidated to mess up in front of her. As someone with a ton more singing skill than me, it seemed like a foregone conclusion that she would pass judgement at any slip up on my part. This brings me back to the choir room after rehearsal. Slowly, as we realized sitting in silence for thirty or so minutes was going to kill us both, conversation between us began to brew. The more we talked, the more we felt more comfortable with the other.

We started off talking about how we got into theater and our plans for the future (in theater and elsewhere). Our paths into theater (and how we originally fared socially) were very similar. This led us down different conversational paths. Soon we were discussing personal insecurities and upcoming decisions we were going to be faced with. Both of our comfort levels rose and we offered each other insight on these decisions, as well as trading embarrassing stories about self-doubt that filled the room with laughter. By the end of it, trust between us had skyrocketed.

At the beginning of the rehearsal, I was too anxious to talk unless I had to. Working on singing was painful to an extent, because outside of the actual song and any notes she had for me, there was no communication. Try sitting in a room with someone without talking to them. It doesn’t take long before that gets awkward. By the end of the rehearsal, I was no longer irrationally stressed out. An authentic bond had formed between us. At this point, she was no longer just my director, we were better friends than we had been before.

In the subsequent rehearsals, I was able to venture outside my comfort zone more often. Our dynamic had completely changed. No longer was I working for a team of directors, I was performing alongside my friends. Although they were not offputting prior to my conversations with them, I no longer worried when they gave me notes. It wasn’t personal, they just wanted to help me grow. Through that conversation, I had found out how much work had gone into developing the one act. They saw this show as their baby, and they entrusted me with a role in it. In turn, I entrusted the development of my acting game to them. If they were willing to put as much faith in me as they had, I could be comfortable enough to do the same. This mutual trust between teacher(s) and student only enhanced what we were working on. Both parties were enabled to produce higher quality work and ultimately, our jobs felt exponentially easier.

I am so thankful I got to work with these two girls. Not only have I improved tenfold since joining their show, I have received guidance and advice that I will cherish for a long time. They are perfect examples of the benefits of building a connection between teacher and student. I am proud that they entrusted me with the responsibility they did. When I saw how much they truly cared about my own personal growth, it became clear to me that I needed to put in whatever work necessary to make them proud. I wanted to do their words justice. That’s the impact a teacher can have on a student. The teachers you remember are the ones who make an effort to get to know their students on a personal level. I will remember these girls and their teaching for a long time.

Thank you so much for reading this edition of my blog! This one is also very dear to me. I would love to hear any thoughts (in agreement or opposition), any suggestions you have, or any questions you may have. I will continue to update this on Fridays as the year progresses. You can follow me on Twitter @TheSammer88 for live updates from me. The hashtag, #BowTieBoys has been compiling my thoughts and my partners’ thoughts, so be sure to check that out if you want to hear more from us.

Students as Teachers: Restraint Only Hinders Progress

Time and time again it has been said that one of the best ways to learn is to teach. It has also been said that sometimes students can be some of the best teachers. A great example of putting these ideas into effect are my school’s ongoing Senior One Act Festival. Basically, to provide some context, this festival is a showcase for the theater department’s seniors to direct, cast, choreograph, and in some cases, even write their own show to perform for an audience. So, in an attempt to throw a curveball into the expected #BowTieBoys blog programming, for the next few posts I will be periodically highlighting the directors of the three shows that I am taking part in.

The first director is actually the reason I even auditioned in the first place. Prior to these Senior One Acts, I had never stepped foot on an auditorium stage with the purpose of acting before. I usually spend my time troubleshooting our department’s sound issues, as I am the soundboard operator for anything theater related. In my eyes, the word ‘comfort’ is more closely associated with sitting in the booth behind the board rather than acting and singing. Having only met him halfway through the year, I felt (and feel) a little bit cheated that he was a senior, so in an effort to be around him more often before graduation, I began talking to him about the One Acts. He strongly encouraged me to try out for his show, which to me sounded like he was offering me a spot. There was a glaring problem with this idea, I had never been onstage before and had no clue what to expect. His solution? The night before auditions, he invited me over and we worked for hours on both my singing and acting. It was a struggle, at first. In order to accurately help me prepare I was going to have to get out of my comfort zone. He knew if I was holding myself back in anyway, awkwardness would show through. Self doubt had to be free from mind, so his first mission was to scare it off.

Our first task was improving my singing. I had never gotten singing lessons, people rarely (italics would not have done that word justice) had heard me sing before, and I did not know any of the lingo that choir students may be acquainted with. In order to explain breathing techniques, pitch changes, and warm up procedures, he used inside jokes not only to break down our musical language barrier, but to simultaneously break the ice and ease my worry. Although I was clearly already comfortable being around him, I would not have been able to instantly make myself vulnerable. I needed to feel safe in my environment before I could open up to him. After working on the fundamentals, we went directly into working on my audition song, “One Song Glory,” from the greatest musical on the planet, Rent. Before we had finished my first attempt he already had a note for me. What he said is something that is not only valid in music (as I’ve recently learned), but in truly everything.

He turned off the backing track and paused before saying anything. Then I found out what I was doing wrong. Apparently, I had been singing “One Song Glory” an octave lower that it was supposed to be. Because my voice typically rests in that range, he hypothesized that it felt more comfortable for me to sing there. He was right, high notes are scary. The pep talk didn’t stop there though. What followed will stick with me for a long, long time.

My friend asked me if I wanted to know the secret to hitting higher notes. His advice was to just do it. It may feel like I can’t, but I shouldn’t even think about it. I should worry about the lyrics, or the acting, or even the color of the chairs in the audience, but don’t think about the pitch for even a moment. My voice can do so much more than I think it can, so I just need to trust it to do the right thing.

My first attempt did not go well. As the first high note came, my voice resembled the dying cries of an animal being run over by a car going sixty miles an hour. I laughed at myself, but it was out of embarrassment. He may have smiled, but my friend did not laugh at me. Nothing but encouragement came from him. More advice was presented to me.

Do not hold back. The only people in the house were him, his mom (who coincidentally was playing piano at the time), and me. No one was going to judge me, so just go for it. The worst that could happen is I might miss the note, in which case we would take the necessary measures to fix it. Restraint only hinders progress. If I held back, I would subconsciously be telling myself that I couldn’t do it. When I went for broke and let all of my insecurity fall to the side, I would be able to achieve what my fullest ability offered. Until then, any talent I might have would remain untapped.

That may be a pretty abstract concept, but it made total sense to me. I was afraid. I was afraid to mess up. I was afraid to look stupid. I was afraid to embarrass myself. He made it clear that in the unlikely event I was not able to do what he thought I could, no judgement would be passed. Outside of the situation that seems obvious, but at the time I irrationally believed verbal evisceration was headed my way if I made a fool of myself. His comments relieved that worry, and with that we began my next attempt at the song.

Even though nothing had physically changed, I was feeling exponentially more confident. I powered through the first portion of the first verse without any doubt. Before I knew it, I was tasked with defeating the high notes. “One Song Glory’s” iconic guitar riff began picking up speed and the palpable tension between his iPhone’s speaker and I grew. The high notes came, my self-doubt slipped away, and the notes came out just the way we intended. It was miraculous. I was so excited. We stopped the recording and did the run again. Even though the first time had gone smoothly, I was so excited that technique must have been abandoned because my vocals did not sound good to put it lightly.

We tried doing vocal exercises before singing along again. Once again, the end result was pretty abysmal. After finally conquering part of my audition song for the first time, I turned right around and failed spectacularly. Twice. I was crestfallen and quite honestly, ready to give up. My friend refused to let me get down on myself. Normally, it would have been easily to just succumb to self criticism, but my friend’s reassurance proved stronger.

He clicked play on “One Song Glory” and Adam Pascal’s voice filled the room yet again. This time, instead of letting me sing the beginning of the verse, he spoke to me. Forget about the high notes. They’re there, but they should not be intimidating. I already proved to him that I could hit the notes, so I really have no excuse not to do it again. Why get hung up on past mistakes rather than realizing I’ve done it before and just need to duplicate that success?

Suddenly, the first verse ended and the chorus started approaching rapidly. Swiftly bowing out, my friend motioned me to sing the chorus. Without having a moment to reconsider, I went directly into singing mode. He proved right again. The notes sounded the way they were supposed to. That was the second time I had sang it correctly! My soon-to-be director cut off the music and gave me a smile. I’d done it, he told me, when I didn’t allow myself to have second thoughts I was able to go ahead and hit every note.

We sang through more songs from Rent. Then, we sang songs from other musicals (more specifically “Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812,” “Dear Evan Hansen,” and “Pippin”). Goofing off and playing random characters, we sang to all sorts of different melodies. He pulled another trick on me. All of those songs were just more instances where I was able to hit hard notes. That had not even crossed my mind until he pointed it out to me.

In a matter of hours, I had gone from being too timid to sing anything in front of anyone to belting out assorted Broadway numbers while dancing around my friend’s bedroom. Consider the ice broken.

We jumped into the other side of theater that I lacked experience in: acting. Reading through the audition scripts was a breeze. I felt comfortable around him, therefore putting on different voices and playing with different emotions was not as worrisome. Unsurprisingly, we did not work on acting for nearly as long. He gave me tweaks here and there, but he let me in on another little secret. In practically anywhere, if you loosen up, the product you churn out will be much more satisfying. Good actors do not get scared stiff onstage. They don’t worry about their blocking or their lines. Often, it’s the opposite. Actors can be known as some of the most over-the-top people in the world. It makes sense. If they were always worried about how others perceived them, how could they perform?

I could go on and on about this kid. He is one of the most genuinely nice people I have ever met. You will never see him yelling, insulting others, or taking out frustrations on someone. Always looking for new people to interact with, he is also one of the most welcoming people my school has to offer. All of these are good qualities for a teacher to possess. No one ever has a bad thing to say about my friend, because he is not one to make enemies. Teachers who make an effort to reach out to every single one of their students will generate copious amounts of positive student rapport. In my opinion, rapport is the most important factor in a classroom. With authentic connections between teacher and student, a classroom can become an environment where students feel comfortable enough to try new things. We will not be afraid to potentially fail for the purpose of bettering ourselves. Without these bonds, a classroom remains a linoleum-covered prison that we are sentenced to for nine months out of our year. I know which one of those I would rather spend my time in. It doesn't take much for a teacher to give their classroom the feel that my friend gave his bedroom. After all, as my friend said, restraint only hinders progress.

This post is very dear to me, as my friend is graduating at the end of this school year. Like I said earlier, I have only known him for a short while, but in that amount of time he has proved to be one of the best teachers I have ever had. Teachers come in all shapes and sizes. They are found all around our community and the lessons they share are not any lesser just because they do not take place in a school. I hope we can all learn something from my friend and the guidance he offered to me. If we forget our insecurities and just reach for what we desire (in academics or elsewhere), it's within our grasp.

I would love to hear any thoughts (in agreement or opposition), any suggestions you have, or any questions you may have. I will continue to update this as the year progresses. You can follow me on Twitter @TheSammer88 for live updates from me. The hashtag, #BowTieBoys has been compiling my thoughts and my partners’ thoughts, so be sure to check that out if you want to hear more from us.

Understanding Both Sides

Today is the day! After failing time and time again to get something scheduled, my German teacher and I conducted our interview and this blog post will feature her. Prior to the start of this year, I was considering going against what my counselor recommended and dropping my foreign language only three years in. On the first day of school it was going to take a lot to change my mind about German. Resigned, I had already decided that my sophomore eighth block was going to be abysmal.

Similar to my ninth grade Biology teacher (highlighted in my past blog post, “Hooking Students from Day One”), whoever was in charge of German this year would have to make a good impression right away. If not, she would have a lot of catching up to do in order to regain the interest of me and my peers. Freshman year began with my teacher announcing that she spoke five languages and German, the one she was hired to teach, was her worst. Not necessarily the best way to kickoff the year, in my opinion. Without a doubt, I’m sure my current teacher heard the horror stories and she combatted them in the perfect way. Rather than making comparisons to her predecessor she put all the attention on our new situation. It worked too. The key is what she said though.

Through her answers in our interview, it is clear transparency is an aspect of the education system that my teacher highly values. This would explain why she said what she said on day one. As many teachers do, she opened up with her expectations of us along with what students should expect from her/her class. Frau (her classroom moniker) told us that when she was in school she felt slightly overworked. “Being required to take classes that were uninteresting to [her]” (Hawkesworth) was the absolute worst part of that. It’s very different for someone to be stressed out by activities that they enjoy as opposed to ones they don’t. Continuing, she said this didn’t mean core classes should be abolished or anything, but an effort should be made to keep classes engaging. She followed this up by letting us know that she wasn’t going to work us to death. When work was to be assigned we would know it was for a good reason, as she believes busy work is unfair to students (and frankly unnecessary for teachers).

Foreign language is one of those course groups that can get a bad reputation. At my school, they’re known as some of the hardest classes available to students. Difficulty is obviously not necessarily a bad thing, but it makes engagement much more crucial. Another belief Frau strongly holds is that student advocacy is integral to a healthily functioning classroom. “Student advocacy means students working with teachers, the administration, and others to have their voices heard” (Hawkesworth), therefore value must be put in students’ words. Teachers must be open to listening to kids, if student advocacy is to be taken seriously. My German instructor made it abundantly clear from day one that if we had any complaints about class, that we could tell her. This created an open forum for us to share our ideas.

Take, for example, the time our class was assigned a project that required lots of drawing. The majority of our class’ population is not very artistic. Despite that, our rubric demanded ‘well-thought out designs.’ When push came to shove, many of us spent more time worrying about how our art looked instead of the German we were supposed to be learning. One could argue that it was a lack of prioritization on our part. While that is probably partly true, our education system is built on an emphasis of grades. We’ve been conditioned to follow instructions to get the grade, sometimes forgoing the main purpose of the assignment. A couple of my peers and I decided to have a discussion with my teacher about it. She understood our perception of the project and vowed to find a way to avoid this conundrum again. In conjunction, she described her thought process behind adding a visual aspect to the project. The artistic idea was an attempt to appeal to students in the class who might be more skilled in that area. Until our discussion, being angsty teenagers we were just disgruntled. We didn’t understand why she would force an art project on us. On the other side, I’m sure she didn’t understand why there wasn’t much quality work turned in. After we talked, both sides went away feeling satisfied with the explanations they received. Each party also didn’t leave angry because of how civil and genuinely cooperative the discussion was. Since then, there has been no more confusion (and coincidentally no more art-heavy projects).

This brings me back to transparency. Had Frau just shut us down and gave us no explanation other than ‘I’m in charge,’ a large dip in our relationship would have appeared. Why would we trust her after such a response? In my opinion, the most important question a teacher can answer is: why? A simple way to empower students is to pull back the curtain even slightly. There’s no harm in letting us know what’s going on and why. Being given justifications for assignments signals to us that teachers see us as equals, rather than subjects. Without an environment that encourages transparency, it is much harder to keep an open forum for discussion available with students. Teachers that keep students out of the loop generate students that keep teachers out of the loop. That is not beneficial for either side. At the end of the day, and many people have said this many, many times, teachers and students are teammates, not rivals. The end goal is the same for each party. There is no good reason information should be cloaked. In order to enhance true comprehension, educators and their pupils need to be able to be open with one another.

Thank you so much for reading this week’s edition of my blog! I would love to hear any thoughts (in agreement or opposition), any suggestions you have, or any questions you may have. I will continue to update this on Fridays as the year progresses. You can follow me on Twitter @TheSammer88 for live updates from me. The hashtag, #BowTieBoys has been compiling my thoughts and my partners’ thoughts, so be sure to check that out if you want to hear more from us.

Works Cited:

Hawkesworth, Kara. "Interview with Frau." E-mail interview. 4 May 2017.