One week down. All is well. Only hitch to the week is my theatre history class with 57 students. The class size is not ideal but I totally understand the reasons behind the compromises made. My problem is that my first two classes didn’t meet them with quite the impact I wanted. This primitive core of theatre where we connect the human love and capacity for imitation to primitive man and the necessity and comfort they found in ritual was not hitting the point I wanted. It would be easy for me to blame the class size – but that would be just an excuse. Something in my admitted passion for this section of the studies was simply not hitting the mark. And, of course, the more I worked it the further it alluded me. I have taught this class for over 20 years refining each and every year – knowing that I am always in need of more personal study and reflection when it comes to the subject – – but this year I find myself wanting in the first week.
Gratefully, I have not yet had to stoop to sssshhhing them or bullying them to be quite and focused. I don’t think I would want to continue teaching if I had to resort to compulsion to keep them together. For all these many years I have been able to rely on attraction to join the forces. Clearly if I have to compel them to learn rather then attract them to the learning table, I have lost my gift and should get out of Dodge quickly!
And I certainly don’t blame the students. As always a teacher gets the exact response from his/her class that they set up. A teacher teaches a class exactly how to respect them. You get what you tolerate from others. You teach students fundamentally how to treat you. That is lesson number one.
I am doing okay in this department. Attraction to the subject is still working. Blessedly I have not had to compel anyone to stay on the ship with me. BUT, why is the product not selling to the costumers as I would like? Am I relying on old magic? Am I repeating this class and not re-creating this class? I ponder.
Friday. 6:00pm. Rain on its way. Rinse cycle on the washing machine. Tired dog. Glass of wine. 57. How? Certainly not “why” but “how?” 57
One comment on “57”
I am a student from DA, and I’d just like to say, that while your message may have seemed not to be clear to the class as a whole, it gave me one of those “aha!” moments. When the pieces were all connected and everything made sense, I truly understood. I found the entire concept of imitation utterly fascinating and I can not wait for next class to explore more of the magic that is the birth of Theatre.