Monday, April 29, 2019

Sharing the Truth of Your Personal History and Understanding Your Why

Jacqueline Raymond Wegman

I am inherently privileged. I am white. I have blonde hair and seemingly endless amounts of bouncy energy. I don’t deny the advantage of these factors. However,  I fear my inherent privilege disconnects me from some of the communities I work in; leaving some students to wonder how I can possibly understand their lives. Why am I there? Why am I doing teaching artistry in a community I don’t live in and am not from? How can I relate? These are real questions and they should be asked. What is your why? 
Your history is your truth.


I grew up in the late 80’s-early 90’s in an apartment in Troy, NY. Back in the late 80’s Troy, NY more economically depressed than it is still today. My mom was a single parent working two jobs and raising my sister and I on her own. When my dad stole our car, we took the bus; to the grocery store, to Public School #18, and to my grandmother’s house. After that time (around age 3) I never saw or heard from my father again. 

 My mother was also raised by women. She had two sisters and her mother; a single mom with three mouths to feed. My mother and grandma, as well as her mother before her had to work to make money to survive, to pay the rent, to take care of their children. Getting a college education was not the norm. In fact, no relative of mine on either side of my family had ever gone to college until 2002. My sister was the first to go to a 4 year university, graduate 1 year early with honors and then start her graduate program the next day. No really. The NEXT day. She’s an inspiration for sure. 

Power of connecting through theatre 
Unlike my self motivated, academia driven sister, I found my way to college through theatre. I started singing and acting at 5. It was all I had. It was the thing “I was good at” and how I felt seen in a turbulent household. For me, theatre was a safe haven,  I found a community and a purpose there. And also a way “out.” 

The arts change lives and introduce possibility. They did for me. I do not desire for my students to become mini actors (unless they want to!), I want them to speak up for themselves, know what it’s like to walk in someone else's shoes, and to become leaders in their own lives and in their community.  Theatre education encompasses all of these objectives. 

I want my students to overcome any circumstance they may have been born into.  I want them to know how powerful they are and encourage them to critically think. For female identifying students and students of color I want them to examine where information is coming from. Before doubting themselves ask: Who created this language? What’s the historical context? Who says I can’t do this thing? 


If I could use my art, my background, and pathway to serve as a guide for one student, I would feel that I've successfully contributed to this field, and perhaps, to the world as a whole.  True empowerment can only come from within an individual. No one gave me my power, I had a series of mentors and guides in the forms of teachers who helped light my path, who validated my voice, who saw me. It took me years to empower myself. As an arts educator I hope I can help a young person get there quicker than I did. I wonder, if by sharing our stories, we connect with students and encourage to persevere through situations to see the vast possibilities on the horizon.

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Take Control of the “INGS”

Take Control of the “INGS”    
Justine Evyn Saliski

This was one of those weeks where even if there were 48 hours in a day, there wouldn’t be enough time to get everything done that I need to get done. I have events taking place every weekend for the next few weeks, I’m directing Shakespeare in the round with my middle schoolers, while one of the coolest things I have ever done, it is daunting, and camp starts in less than 13 weeks. Planning, hiring, training, executing, facilitating-all of the “ings” that have me panicking. It was getting better, until I screwed something up and found myself in a tizzy on Wednesday morning. 

I’ve spent the last 5 to 6 weeks actively trying to disconnect from work when I get home, and allowing for myself to have some me time. It’s hard. Like super hard. For the first couple of days when I would not immediately answer an email, even if it was 11pm or 5am, a pang of fear would start to radiate through my body like something terrible was happening. More often than not, I end a phone call at work with “I am frequently in and out of the office teaching, but I am always accessible by email.” If I tell someone I am always accessible by email, not answering in lying. But where do we draw the line?


My accessibility started to become something that was eating me alive. Slowly, I began to limit myself from my constant state of connectivity. As a young professional rising in the field, wrapping my head around the idea that “there is never going to be a near death arts education emergency” was something I really took to heart, because what if there was? What if there was something that happened to one of my kids, or their parents, or my program, and I wasn’t there to fix it? Would I lose my credibility in the field? Would I lose my relationship with my kids and their parents that I have been working to build for months and months?

The answer, is no. 

On Wednesday morning, that feeling of something terrible crept over me at 7:12 am when I received an email that shot me out of bed. I forgot to put something in the calendar. I don’t have the staff to work. I can’t be in two places at once. I’m screwed. I got up, ran to my computer, sent some emails and a few texts, and waited for responses. In the midst of that waiting, I had a complete breakdown on the couch. I tore myself to pieces because if I had just been more accessible, if I had just been more proactive about making sure I was following back up on my emails, this wouldn’t have happened. It was my fault for “actively trying to disconnect”. My partner looked at me on the couch mid panic, and said “You are doing too much. Something like this is bound to happen a time or two, we’re all human. It’s okay.”   


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               In the moment did it help? Sure didn’t! But is retrospect, she is right. A lot of the time, I am doing too much. And even more of the time, I am not allowing myself to recharge mentally, physically and emotionally in order heal from the stressors of a work week. We are constantly checking in with our kids, but who is checking in on us? 

Every time you go to check your email and it has already been an 11-hour day, check in with yourself too. If it is one of the 1 in 1,000,000 arts in education emergencies, please, reply. But, if it is a parent or student who is asking if they are called for rehearsal on Sunday, they have the call sheet. They can figure it out if it cannot wait until the morning.

Putting down your phone does not mean that we care less. Ultimately, it means that we care more. We spend day in and day our championing for our kids and carrying them on our backs. If we don’t take care of ourselves, how are we going to be the best support we can be for them?

As arts educators and advocate for our kids, we all know the radical healing powers that the arts can have. Go see the play you’ve been wanting to see. Explore the new exhibit at the museum. Read a libretto outside sitting on the grass with the sun beating down on you. Take a mental health day. You’re kicking ass. 

Check in with yourself. You deserve it.

Wednesday, April 10, 2019

What Does it Mean to Teach in 2019?


 What does it mean to teach in 2019?
nicholas james


This school year I really have had to step back and assess what the heck it means to be a teacher.



What used to contain chairs - neatly tucked in, desks - aligned in well organized rows, a chalkboard with a few dust filled erasers, and an apple atop the teachers desk now contains tables or desks in various arrangements around the room, chairs scattered aimlessly, a SMARTboard or screen on the wall.


And that’s just the beginning. The ever changing world that we live in today makes it difficult to keep up. With the rapid advancement of technology, the growing number of standards to teach, and the endless todo list it makes it hard to determine where exactly to start.  


How do we do this you ask? Well, we are all trying to figure that out.


Technology
It is undeniable that technology is everywhere. We want to be fully integrated, streamlined. We are constantly trying to answering the question, how can technology make our lives more simple.


Our students are no exception. They are so used to being stimulated by technology outside of the classroom that when they get in the classroom they are expecting the same thing. If the lesson is not immediately stimulating or is presented in a way that they consider ‘boring’ they check right out for the day.


I often feel that I work as a salesperson, not a teacher. As I plan my year, my units, my lessons, and my day I am constantly wondering, ‘Am I presenting the material in such a way that will engage all of the students?’


This year, my buy in to integrating technology into my teaching practice took the form of a classroom instagram account and a website. Both of which students have access to. More to come on those later!!


Standards
In addition to the integration of technology in and out of the classroom, the growing number of standards teachers are expected to cover in a single school year also seems to be an impossible task. And, more often than not, teachers are also spending countless hours reviewing past standards that should have been covered in previous years, but were lost on the students. Whether this is the students doing or their previous teacher is anyone’s guess.


We are constantly expecting our students to produce more and more, but not giving them more time in which to do it.

Questions
How can we create rigorous tasks for our students? How can I ensure every student passess their regents exam with a college ready score? How can we ensure all students are exposed to various AP courses? How can we get students to take college courses in high school?


But also...


How am I going to get every student to even pass? How do I make up for years of knowledge gap? How do I get students to understand the big ideas and the procedural skills? How do integrate tech into my class?


Thoughts
Now, that being said, I love what I do. I am truly passionate about teaching. If I wasn’t, I don’t think I would be able to find the strength to get up and go to work in the morning.


There is so much work left to be done. We are currently in a time of innovation in the field of education. How exciting!! We are exploring new terrain, pushing boundaries, and developing what education can and should look like for future generations. Man, we are truly doing it all.

Saturday, April 6, 2019

Changing Careers Mid-Life: From Actor to Accountant to Teaching Artist

Changing Careers Mid-Life: From Actor to Accountant to Teaching Artist
Steven Gillenwater
     move away
Theatre has always been an intrinsic part of my life.  It began with high school drama which led to      undergraduate and graduate degrees in theatre before culminating in ten years working in New York as an actor and theatre director.  Then, over the course of three years, my artistic life waned as another life took its place.  In 2011 my husband was accepted into a philosophy program at the University of Oxford, providing us the opportunity to move to England.  In the three years we spent there I grew, I explored, and I worked with amazing people after securing a job with a research study at the University.  I will always be grateful for those years and what they did for me.  But in those years a strange thing happened I didn’t anticipate – the theatre went away. 

Not literally. There was plenty of theatre happening around me.  I was in the land of Shakespeare after all.  I just stopped pursuing it as a career.  At the time I blamed this on many things – lack of access, culture shock, other personal and familial priorities.  I had many places to assign blame.  The blame made me feel more secure in myself.  I still felt like I was an artist.  I told myself, if I am no longer pursuing artistic goals, there really isn’t a problem if it can be blamed on other factors.  

  
When we moved back to New York in 2014 I assumed all would be as it was, and the theatre would again be my life.
Oh, how I was wrong.
Collaborators had moved on to other careers, the landscape was new, the city felt different, I felt different.  Most importantly, I had nothing to blame it on now.  New York City still had art, plenty of theatre to explore, but my drive to be out there on the audition trail, or searching out directing opportunities, just wasn’t there anymore.

A new career
I took a job - an office job, an accounting job.  I always liked numbers and, more importantly, I needed something to do. It was ‘something to do’ for two more years.  Soon, with no regular artistic outlet in my life, I began to feel like I was drifting. Was this it? Was I going to be an accountant for the rest of my life?  The thought filled me with a balance sheet full of dread.




I sat myself down. What do I really want to be doing with my life?  Where am I now?  What does my artistry look like now?  Am I still an artist?  Aren’t I too young for a mid-life crisis?  
I thought about my life. I thought about the work I used to do.  I thought about the work I did in Oxford.  I thought about education.  
I remembered sitting on the porch of my college house dreaming of my life 20 years in the future, teaching theatre.
I remembered the rewarding experiences I had while teaching when I was a graduate student.
I remembered the joy I had in Oxford, working with researchers dedicated to youth advocacy.
And so, I began reassessing my self-perceptions.  My husband had just received his own degree in Philosophy.  I thought it only appropriate for me to start examining my own philosophy, to attempt to answer all these questions I now had.  I spoke with friends and colleagues. I consulted all the various smart people I knew.  I did research that would make my old co-workers in Oxford proud.  I was going to make a change in my life.  The previous joy I had felt when I would be online looking for auditions was back.  Then I found what I was looking for.  Educational Theatre.  Graduate school.  City College of New York.
Bingo.

I never crafted an application with more care.  All elements of the application process filled me with joy.  I was even giddy studying for the math GRE (though maybe that was just my inner accountant coming out).  This wasn’t about a single program.  I wanted to get in, no doubt.  But if I didn’t, I knew I would be fine.  I had found what I was going to be doing with my professional life going forwa
A new philosophy
I applied.  I got an interview.  Two weeks after that I was notified that I was accepted to the program.  I was going back to school, 17 years after my last stint as a student, with a renewed energy and focus I hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Beginning classes I immediately realized this was not going to be solely about learning how to write a lesson plan, or what the best drama exercise was for instilling empathy in students.  The most important thing I found myself doing was the formulation of a new philosophy. At first, I thought of this solely as a pedagogical philosophy – who am I as an educator?  That was important, but then it became about so much more. This was a process of reassessing who I am as an artist, of digging down inside myself and coming to terms with what theatre means to me now.  This was a process of looking into my own personal philosophies on life and happiness – of asking the question “What is really important here, in my life and in the world around me?”
A continuous path
I have another year of graduate school and certainly more to learn.  I am just starting out in this new world, a fledgling Teaching Artist learning his way. I am fortunate to be getting exciting opportunities where I can take my ever-evolving philosophies and put them into practice.


Taking a moment to reassess how I viewed the world and my place in it three years ago altered the course of my future, putting me on a path that feels more right professionally than anything I have felt since I was pounding the pavement as a professional actor ten years ago.  Now, with a rediscovered sense of self and newly explored personal philosophy, I can appreciate the journey I went on to get here.  Every step was a step that influenced the work I am doing now:
I honed my artistry during my career as an actor and director.
I explored the world of education and youth advocacy through my work in Oxford.
I have used my time as an accountant to broaden my knowledge of business and, most importantly, to finance my life while working on my graduate degree.
Every move along my path has been integral to who I am and what I am doing now.  I’ve come to realize that In this career change I’m not starting out on a new path.  It’s always the same path, a long winding path, and I can’t wait to see what I encounter on it next.

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

A Year of Teaching Abroad

A Year of Teaching Abroad

My name is Hayley Wright. I am a current candidate for a MS in Educational Theatre with Initial Certification at the City College of New York. Last February, I was given the opportunity to teach English in Israel for a year through the program TALMA. After much consideration and Jennifer telling me there is no better time than the present, I packed my bags and set off for the unexpected. And when I say unexpected, I mean it. I moved to Mitzpe Ramon, Israel. If you are unsure of where that is, find Tel Aviv or Jerusalem on a map and go south. Keep going. Keep going. Yep, there is Mitzpe. In the middle of nowhere. In the desert. This city girl was becoming a desert girl and no one could predict what was going to happen.

 At this point, I have been in Israel for 7 months and my experience thus far can be summed up using the three pillars our program uses daily; pedagogy, advocacy, and artistry.

Pedagogy. I can't even begin to describe how my pedagogy has been affected by my time here. Because the education system in Israel is much different than in the States, I have had to learn to adapt my teaching methods. We are taught to be culturally relevant, assimilate while still holding true to ourselves. Let's just say, this is easier said than done. An Israeli classroom is loud, chaotic, and for the lack of a better word, passionate while at the same time frozen. Students are in their seats the entire lesson, occasionally getting up to write on the board. My theatre background deemed this as unacceptable and wanted to push all the desks and chairs to the side and get these kids moving. However, my teacher/Jennifer/Sobha voice told me to take a step back, observe, and see how things operate. The word for slowly in Hebrew is “layat” , so I told myself, layat, layat . As I started teaching my own groups, I began to move them around the room. I quickly realized the kids don't know how to behave when they are not at their desks. Chaos breaks out and the room goes from a medium level of noise to through the roof within seconds and let’s just say there is an explosion of passion. The disorganization and lack of routine in the classroom is difficult to fathom being the type A personality I am. This became extremely relevant while trying to visit other classrooms in order to do my research. My observations and interviews got pushed back at least twice. The pedagogy I had developed over the past 2 years at CCNY came in handy. You can't dive head first into a pool full of sharks, you must stick your big toe in to test the waters. And when I say sharks I mean Israeli students...I needed to meet the students where they were not only academically but physically, spacially, and emotionally while also understanding where they are coming from culturally.

Advocacy. I don't think I have ever had to advocate for myself and for my students as much as I have done this year. When I began teaching on September 1, I started just observing in the classroom. I needed and wanted to see the level of the kids and how the other English teacher worked. I also wanted to see how the kids responded to her, what worked, what didn't work, etc. After the first day, I pretty much had seen enough. I could see what the students needed and I
wanted to help. I told the other English teacher, I felt comfortable taking students and she would give me 2 or 3 to go teach them a lesson or review the alphabet or read with them. By doing this, I could see the level of English varied among the entire class. Some of these kids were not keeping up with the rest. It was not fair for them to be sitting through a lesson that went over their head. I told the other English teacher my thoughts but she thought it would be too much work to separate the weak and strong students because “it is very difficult to only teach the weak students.” This blew my mind. One of our jobs as educators is to make sure each child is getting an equal education, I could see this was not happening. So I met with the principal. I told her what was going on and if we couldn't share the responsibility of teaching the weaker students, I would do it. I wanted to. These kids need to learn to read and they are not going to advance sitting in a classroom where they can't even read the words they are writing down. I told the principal, we have the teachers and the classroom resources to do this, so why not? I was giving my students a voice while also standing up for myself and asking for more responsibility. I soon began to take larger groups and was able to slow down the lessons for them. I could instantly see progress through retention and their positivity.

Artistry. Over the past 7 months, my artistry was lost. I had to rediscover it and find it in Israel. I was trying to incorporate my artistry in the classroom, some days more successful than others but I still felt like something was missing. Over the fall semester, myself along with my cohort of teachers took a class at Ben Gurion University in Be’er Sheva called, “Minorities in Israel.” While this class was informative and helped me to understand the social dynamics in Israel and my classroom, I felt somewhat empty. I was not doing anything that was feeding my work and passions. When we were told for this coming semester we didn’t have to take a class and could find something else to do, I jumped at the opportunity to do so. I contacted The Goodman Acting School and Theatre of the Negev, one of the most known acting schools in Israel outside of Tel Aviv. I did not hear back from so I did something people would say here is “very Israeli.” I marched myself over to the school and introduced myself asking to volunteer with them once a week. I was lucky enough to meet with the artistic director. It took a while to create a job for me but now once a week I work at the school, translating contracts, helping with their English website while also socializing with teachers, students, and administrators all serving the artistic community of the Negev (southern part of Israel). But most importantly I get to see theatre! As I am writing this, I have only worked there four times but I already feel apart of the family and my artistry being served.
The thing about Israelis is they mean what they say. It is extremely refreshing, for example, when an Israeli says “come stay with me anytime,” they mean it. When an American says it, they are secretly hoping to never hear from you again. One of the dance teachers at the school told me to come take his class and I went, no questions asked. As I continue my journey teaching abroad, I need to be more culturally relevant, not just in my teaching but especially in my day to day life.


I have to remember the New Yorker in me, while also embracing my Israeli traits. I know if it wasn’t for the skills I learned teaching and living here I would not have gotten the opportunity to work at Goodman. In New York, we are told to follow a certain formality but sometimes if you are truly passionate about an opportunity, go for it. Take a risk. The worst thing they could say is no. And then what? Onto the next, but still you can say you tried. You are enough. Trust that.


To sum it all up, my year of teaching abroad has showed me how to firsthand advocate for myself and my students, reaffirmed my love for the arts, and altered my pedagogy, in the end ultimately making me a stronger more effective teacher, learner, artist, and human. 

Friday, March 17, 2017

Research

Research
Naomi Avadanei

Going into this year I had one thing on my mind: Research. The course. The process. How do I do it? What will I do it on? Who will I work with? The list goes on.


 Research 1 began with many discussions around the question, “What are you interested in?” I started the course with three main interests:

1. Theatre for Young Audiences and anything that involved TYA
2. Creating and performing intergenerational theatre
3. Using theatre as a tool to teach history and current events

Every few classes we would go around in class and discuss our interests and after a few weeks, we began to see sparks of possible connection between our individual interests.

I first connected with Anna who was also interested in exploring historical events through theatre and wondered if there was a possibility of integrating a component intergenerational theatre—an interest that was sparked, for both of us, by Sobha’s devising class last summer. Anna reached out to me and expressed her interest in using the stories and histories of New Yorkers as a catalyst for live theatre. Shortly after Anna reached out to me, Jess also reached out to me regarding my interest in Theatre for Young Audiences and how it connected with her interest in the 30,000-word gap and infant language development. I was interested in both topics (not to mention working with both ladies,) and I wondered if and how the two topics could be combined. During the next few weeks Anna, Jess and I agreed to work together and somehow combine our ideas. Along the way Angelique and Amanda joined our group. We were 5 strong!

 Upon returning back to our next research class, we began the daunting process of creating a research question that encapsulated all of our interests. After much deliberation and brainpower we came up with the following:

What impact does immersive inter-generational TYA have on families?

With four additional sub-questions:

  • How does a theatrical experience focused around familial stories help preserve family stories and cultures?  
  • How do shared arts experiences help increase communication and understanding within intergenerational relationships?
  • How do the arts experiences vary for different socioeconomic communities(groups)?
  • How can TYA foster communication strategies and skills?

Now came the hard part: beginning our research and finding the gap in the current research available. We decided to divide our research into five topics:

   1.      Storytelling traditions across cultures
    2.      Parenting communication strategies
    3.      Impact of arts on socioeconomic status
    4.      Achievement gap and language development
    5.      Intergenerational Theatre/Art

Hundreds of pages of peer reviewed articles, dozens of emails, and way too many cups of coffee later, we submitted our first draft of our literature review (which was 100+ pages—holy cow!) I’ll spare you having to read our literature review and summarize our findings:

Most, if not all, cultures and communities have some sort of tradition of storytelling and more specifically storytelling as a means to preserve history and teach. We found some fascinating research on the impact of parental communication with their infants and the correlation between language acquisition as well as speech patterns (tone, pitch, cadence, speed) between adults and children across cultures that impact a child’s ability to acquire, learn, and use language. While we had some difficulty at first, we eventually found that there is indeed research that shows that arts experiences have a positive impact on those living in a low income area or attending a Title 1 school. Finally, we found that there are many arts programs aimed at creating and developing intergenerational theatre (dance and artistic programming) however none of the programs that currently exist create or develop work specifically for intergenerational familial relationships and even more specifically, between grandparents/great grandparents and infants 3-18 months. There was definitely a need for our research in the field.

After some final citation clarifications we submitted our final literature review.

Now came the fun part: creating the piece of intergenerational, interactive baby theatre that we would use to gather our research. We decided that in order to conduct our research, we would create a piece of intergenerational baby theatre that we would perform in three different settings to access three different socio-economic areas: high, middle, and low.

 In the end, I think we had one rehearsal with all of our members present before our performance opened—but we made it work! We created a piece structured around the idea of a family tree. Since our piece was intended for babies aged 3-18 months and their parents/grandparents/great grandparents, we needed something for everyone. We decided to divide the piece into four different stations, each with sensory components for the youngest members of our audience and conversation starters, images, and objects to spark stories from of our oldest audience members.

The piece begins with the families exploring the space as ambient forest sounds are played. Once all audience members have arrived, the ensemble brings the audience together with a song accompanied by ASL, which introduces the audience to the structure of the piece. Audience members are then asked to create living pictures, or tableaux of their families after which they are given the opportunity to explore the forest, visit the “converse-stations,” and interact with the Family Forest Rangers at each station. Each family can choose to visit as many, or as few converse-stations as they please. There are four stations, each created to elicit different types of memories. All the questions and prompts at each station were developed from the perspective of the child asking the question and listening to the story.

1.      Family Tree-“Tell me the story of my name.”
2.      Maps-“Tell me about where we come from.”
3.      Music- “What sounds do you remember from our first moments together?”
4.      Food- “What meals and dishes do you hope I’ll remember?”

Adults are encouraged to follow their little one’s lead through the piece, allowing their interests to lead the stories. After some time of exploration and story telling families are brought back together to lie under the forest canopy, and listen to the same song that started the piece integrated with pieces of the stories they’ve shared spoken aloud.

Over the course of a weekend, we performed the piece four times. First at Steinway library in Astoria (this covered our middle class SES), next at Bend and Bloom, a yoga studio in Park Slope (this performance covered our upper class SES), and finally, we finished off the weekend with two performances at Kensington House, a homeless shelter in Kensington (these performances covered our lower class SES.) Each performance was unique in its own way and each audience brought their own stories to share. While the piece was certainly different each time it was performed, there were certain elements that didn’t change; for example, audience members were always excited to share the story of their child’s name and discussions of food always seemed to bring people together. Over the course of the weekend we heard many beautiful stories of family, love, loss, and hope.

Now, since our marathon weekend of performances we have been given the task to take our raw research data and turn it into an ethnodrama. In order to gather more, varied research, each group member interviewed professionals in the field and individuals we thought would be able to offer some information, opinion and further insight in regards to our research. I interviewed Alexander Santiago-Jirau about New York Theatre Workshop’s Mind the Gap program and together, Anna and I interviewed Pauline, Anneros, and Stanley, participants in Sobah’s devising class last summer. Additionally, we’ve been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to refer back to our experiences seeing Anna Deveare Smith’s, Notes from the Field as well as the new Broadway musical, Come from Away. We have been working in class with Amanda Gronich of Tectonic Theatre Company to transform our research into an ethnodrama; deciding on story tropes, identifying conflict, and creating characters.

Our piece has since come to be called, Tales from the Tree, and our company, we’ve decided, is called Family Tree Theatre. As a company, we have submitted our performance model and piece for development and presentation through several different theatre companies and conferences.

Needless to say, the research process is a long one, not without its bumps and bruises. However, while we aren’t there yet, I must say, it has been an incredible gift to have the opportunity to work with four intelligent, talented and tenacious women on this research journey. I can’t wait to see what our final ethnodrama will turn out to be!




Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Song of Myself:Student Teaching Experience

Song of Myself:Student Teaching Experience
Janet Girardeau

   When I entered Graduate School in Educational Theatre at City College, it was for several reasons. I had worked as a teaching artist in many settings (schools, camps, prisons, senior centers, after school settings) and felt a graduate degree would help strengthen my skills and weight in the job market. I was in need of  training in more current practices, deep and thoughtful stimulation from leaders in the current field and exposure to in-school practises by dedicated in-school Theatre Teachers. I was ready to commit to teaching in a deeper way while still keeping the acting career I have always loved a part of my life as well.  

City College Educational Theatre Program has been everything I have wanted it to be and more. I have gone through the program slowly, juggling a family and work responsibilities. I have tried to savor each and every experience, watched many colleagues go before and start after me and exultantly watched them graduate taking notes and wringing our collective time together dry for meaning, experience and learning. When it came time for student teaching, I have given it a considerable amount of thought. I wanted to spend my time with two people whom I admire, respect and who I could also pump for wisdom, inspiration  and advice,

    
Jennifer Katona, our fearless leader in Stream A, advised us to put together a “dream list” of teachers we might like to student teach with. Consideration based on contacts, friends’ experiences, job experience and a lot of field work in the schools already has been helpful. Honestly, any experience would be helpful experience but I wanted to use careful consideration so I could feel (when I’m slowly paying off my loan for years to come!) that I really made the most of the experience.

 I’m ecstatic to report that my first semester has been nothing short of amazingly fulfilling and everything I hoped it would be. My friend Jenny Lombard had invited me to see her Shakespeare work with her fourth graders and I had ended up staying and seeing her storytelling classes with third and second grades also. This led me to conclude that she has a firm grasp on how to get the most potential out of each child, how to really and truly enrich the creative environment of the school with her creative endeavors and how to stimulate the intellectual curiosity of the students. I asked her if I could student teach with her when the time came, and she said “Sure!”.


    Planning my schedule when this Fall approached involved turning it upside down. I’m an older student. I consider myself pretty loose and flexible, but the time commitment involved in student teaching(even part time) is HUGE. It’s also delightful- the very best part of my week hands down. Jenny felt I would get the most out of the experience if I came there on Thursdays and Fridays, two heavy workdays for me, so I changed my work schedule and lost some income, but she was right. I got a chance to see and help her do the same lesson more or less FIVE times on Thursdays. This meant I could lead a different part of the lesson each time, as I learned it, and then a full lesson as well. Then she could give me notes and I could practise again on Friday with her last third grade storytellers class of the week. This repetition proved to be incredibly helpful to me.

      What I have enjoyed most is her calm, steady, no nonsense approach. Yes, she gets sleep deprived, tired and cranky, just as I seem to do way too often. But what I am most impressed with is that year after year, day after day, I have witnessed her being present 110% and bringing her all to the kids. She is constantly revising her lessons, going over them to make sure she is presenting the lesson in the best, most effective way possible. She is constantly challenging the kids to do the same, to bring their best selves to the work. What I admire MOST is that she challenges the kids to step UP in terms of performance. She breaks down her subject, be it fairy tale theatre, shadow puppetry, improvisational games, storytelling skills or Shakespeare, Then, she doesn’t talk down to them. She talks UP. Everyone in the room sits a little higher and feels a little richer after the first five minutes. They listen attentively and are challenged and stimulated. She enhances their intelligence. The boys and girls laugh at the romantic language but then they leap up to become a soldier, woodsman or King and cannot wait to try out the exercise, story or language. In a matter of minutes she has 30 kids in the palm of her hand.

     Jenny Lombard has given me step by step instructions for how to become a successful classroom teacher. I tend to have way too many ideas and a hard time harnessing them into a workable approach. She has consistently and patiently shown me how to break those ideas down and organize them into a workable, manageable series of meal-sized lessons that again, improve literacy, socio-emotional skills, writing and reading comprehension, following directions, creative writing and speaking, and links her lessons effortlessly into the Common Core. I see her students walk out refreshed and excited by learning. I see Jenny tired but energized at the end of the day.

     She has likened teaching in this way to acting in that visualizing and focusing on an objective is the key. Getting yourself and your students to another place by the end of the lesson, and focusing from the get-go on where you want them to be by the end of the lesson, at a new and different destination, is the aim and goal. Everyone is changed by this artistic endeavor. As Maxine Green(Philosopher in Residence at Columbia and Lincoln Center Institute) has stated, “Imagination is the capacity to open spaces, to see the world differently, to be transformed.” Jenny is one of Theatre Education’s foot soldiers.

  What we’re trying to do in this noble profession on most days is just survive but occasionally enrich. To give the children back to themselves. To play.To quote Maxine Green, to “live in ambiguity”. To expose the children’s artist souls to themselves for them to rediscover, explore, enjoy and then do with as they can and as they wish. I have been so lucky to study by the side of some of these gifted comrades. To quote Jenny, “While student teaching can be inspiring, your first few years of teaching will be hard, hard and harder,” so the enrichment is a gift that comes back to reward both student and  teacher.


            Have you reckoned a thousand acres much? Have you reckoned the earth much?
            Have you practised so long to learn to read?
            Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?

            Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the meaning of all poems,
            You shall possess the good of the earth and sun -- there are millions of suns left,
You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books,
            You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me,
            You shall listen to all sides and filter them from yourself.

                                                            Walt Whitman

                                                            From “Song of Myself”