My Drama students love musical theatre. They’re constantly singing bits from modern pieces, reenacting favourite scenes, and begging me to direct a school-wide musical theatre production. With COVID-19 restrictions lifting and interest at an all-time high, I decided to bite the bullet and do what I had never done before - produce and direct a musical.
We spent 5 months putting together a production of Working, the Stephen Schwartz/James Taylor devised theatre piece based off the best-selling book by historian Studs Terkel. Over 60 students participated as cast and crew. Most of them had zero experience.
The final shows were great. But the process of getting there was very, very difficult for everyone involved. More difficult than it needed to be. My reflection on those 5 months left me wondering what needed to improve; the answer was very clear.
As a high school Drama teacher, my role as a director is not that of artistic or even educational excellence - it has to be mental health stewardship, first and foremost. The key, however, is not to shield students from difficult situations. It is to give them the tools they need to handle difficulty, and there is no better place for that than the stage.
Drama and Mental Health
By now, it should be no surprise that teen's mental health declines as they move through high school. Yet research also indicates that participation in the arts, particularly Drama, provides a safe space - a social construct that promotes respect and encouragement of student opinion. The success of this space is reliant upon the Drama teacher.
Drama teachers are particularly well-equipped to create classrooms that value mental health. The cycle of creation and critique lets students more effectively learn from their mistakes, meaning they don't see academic or social risk-taking as a terrifying series of pass-fail dichotomies. Participation in musical theatre, specifically, has a net positive effect on youth self-esteem. Studies show it increases articulation, self-awareness, imagination, and innovation.
It's clear that the musical theatre process is incredibly beneficial for participating students. This is why, in my auditions, I actively sought to include a wide variety of students; those who had taken Drama classes, and those who hadn't; those who could sing, and those who couldn't; and so on. My goal was not to put on a "good" show, per se, but to provide the aforementioned benefits to as wide a group as possible.
Noble intentions, certainly, but not necessarily the most productive choice.
Safety Through Danger
Nicola Olsen, in her PhD dissertation for Arizona State University, researched the relationship between Drama teachers and their students. Her results echo the experience of most Drama teachers - we simply have a different relationship with our students than those teachers in most other subjects.
Most notably, Drama teachers cannot do their jobs without support from their students. We cannot have support from our students without first creating a safe, supportive environment. Yet Olsen argues the purpose of this safety is not to create "a place to be protected and coddled", but rather a place that "encourages responsible risk-taking".
All the work we do at the onset of our courses and rehearsal processes - trust exercises, building an ensemble, warming up the body and mind - all of it is geared towards helping students face challenges, not avoid them.
The challenges we faced in Working kept mounting. Organizing rehearsals with students who didn't understand the expectations was difficult - staying until 5 or 6 PM was a lot to ask. Multiple students dropped out after realizing what a significant time commitment they had signed up for, requiring blocking and lines to be reassigned. Many students had never been directed before, and took every critique as a personal attack. Our scripts showed up late. Our tech crew was inexperienced. We couldn't have a live band. Strong personalities clashed both on and off stage. All of this with a looming deadline - 5 months is not enough time to put together a musical without significant investment.
How, then, to balance a safe environment with the demands of performance?
Critiquing Critique
"Grit" used to be fashionable edu-speak. Multiple studies looked at how to instill the quality of being able to bounce back after setbacks. While that language is no longer popular, the core concept remains relevant: you will be more successful in dealing with setbacks if you are passionate, practice your skills, and have a sense of purpose.
Musical theatre embodies these qualities perfectly. The students wouldn't show up to rehearsal, even though they were struggling, if they didn't have a passion for the subject. Yet passion will only get you so far - you need to see success.
This is where my students struggled. Some were excellent in all areas; some were strong singers, but had poor stage presence; others were competent actors, but couldn't sing at all. I was well aware of this dynamic and made it my goal to address all needs in my director's notes. Olsen ties dramatic critique to the "safe" classroom by establishing a culture of respect, risk, and reminding all that everyone can learn, that we work with everyone. Evan Tait, in his dissertation on best practices in arts education with neurodivergent students, frames critique as empowering "by creating an environment where [the students'] ideas and preconceptions can be challenged." Yet for those who had never experienced critique, they saw me not as a collaborator, but as the aggressor. This weakened the student-teacher relationship, making the rehearsal process more difficult and reducing the students' capacity to develop "grit."
The Show Must Go On
My errors in judgement were twofold: first, I put myself in a pressure cooker of limited time, an inexperienced cast, and heightened expectations; second, I became too entangled in getting a "good" show and spent too little time addressing the mental health needs of my cast and crew. Tait argues that part of our job as arts educators is to "rely on the process of checking in with [our] actors and in return, [our[ actors checking in with their scene partners." He refers to this process as "theatrical consent" - a term I find unnecessarily intense, but effective.
To address the boiling undercurrents of rebellion that were fermenting every night, before our tech week, I cancelled rehearsal and held a cast and crew meeting. Students were allowed to speak their minds without judgement from me, and I gave them my honest replies in turn. Some of the concerns they raised were legitimate. Some were just run-of-the-mill teenage opposition for opposition's sake. Yet this conversation made huge strides in elevating student voice, investigating causes from multiple perspectives, and working towards community-based solutions.
I continued to hold high expectations for my students - this is a critical feature of mastery learning, as even the most talented students need to continually be challenged lest they find themselves unprepared when finally faced with a task they do find challenging. This practice of task perseverance, along with the opportunity to take more ownership over their rehearsal process, let them finally - finally! - use my critique to improve their performances.
Opening Night
Having never directed anything of substance before, my opening night jitters were just as bad as my cast and crew. Would it be worth it? Would the countless hours of stress, ceaseless last-minute changes, endless triaging of emotional breakdowns, create something worth watching?
Before they went on stage for their first performance, I took my cast aside and told them how I honestly felt: that on stage, they were finally being their true selves. That what they do matters, even though their families and communities may not agree. That I was proud of their courage and growth over time.
Their response? Each of them sobbed uncontrollably, deeply grateful for the vote of confidence. Their performances were the best I had ever seen from them.
Our production of Working was not as good as it could have been, but I truly believe that it gave my students an incredibly valuable experience - not only as cast and crew, but as young people who navigate their complicated mental health landscapes every day. They went from neither understanding nor accepting critique, to actively utilizing it in making concrete improvements and feeling positive about the results. They gained a new tool in their kit of personal mental health supports.
As the cast of Working sings in the final number, "Everyone should have something to point to, something to be proud of." Good mental health is something to be proud of. I firmly believe that no educator is better situated to help students achieve that pride, than a Drama teacher.
--------------
WORKS CITED
Gibson, Kelsey. "Grit in the Performing Arts: A Mixed Methods Study of High School Theatre Student Perceptions of Grit." 2021. Gardner-Webb University College of Education, PhD dissertation. ProQuest. ProQuest Dissertations Publishing.
Mclauchlan, D. (2011). "What Makes A Great High School Drama Teacher?" In: Schonmann, S. (eds) Key Concepts in Theatre/Drama Education. SensePublishers.
Olsen, Nicola. "We Are All Here to Support Each Other." A Narrative Inquiry of High School Drama Teacher Experience Supporting Student Well-Being." May 2021. Arizona State University, PhD dissertation. ProQuest, ProQuest Dissertations Publishing.
Penna, Michael. "Musical Theatre Eudcation's Influence on High School Students' Self-Esteem." 2021.Walden University College of Education, PhD dissertation. ProQuest. ProQuest Dissertations Publishing.
Tait, E. (2022). Putting It Together: Best Practices in Arts Education and Theatrical Education with Neurodivergent Students (master's thesis). Western Oregon University, Monmouth, Oregon.
