When I first started working as an artist in the schools, I was often asked to prepare a final performance at the end of my time at a school – a play, a performance of stories and songs, a book or recording. I chafed under this pressure, and fought against it. I felt that all the emphasis on the end product tended to sabotage the process of what the kids were doing and learning. I wasn’t interested in putting on a little show so that the local paper could come and take pictures and the school could show the PTO money was being put to good use. The victims of this goal would be the kids, I figured – trotted out like a dog and pony show, the best ones put forth as what the school was producing while those not quite so talented were asked to mouth the words. I have seen the pressure put on children by adults who have some product in their mind that is not really about what’s best for the kids.
While I still am concerned about process, I’ve changed my thinking over the years, and now see the wisdom in a production at the end of a project so students can show what they’ve done. Process is important, but so is the idea that the work they do is not just for them, but for somebody else. There is a great deal to be gained by everybody working toward something. There’s also something to be learned through some failure and disappointment, if it’s put in the right context.
Part of my change in attitude can be traced to my many years of mistakes and experiences, along with absorbing the experience of others. Mem Fox, the great children’s book author, has written eloquently about the need for children to write not just for an assignment, but for someone else. In her book Radical Reflections, Fox points out there’s nothing worse than an assignment that gets read by one adult, graded, passed back, and then thrown away. What’s the point? A letter that actually goes to someone will receive more care on the part of a writer than a dozen sentences using the vocabulary words for the week. I think this is because all of us, even eight year olds, want to have a purpose and make a difference.
I was reminded of all this last week as I helped to produce the fourth grade play at Paul Cuffee School. I wrote the musical several years ago with the then fourth grade kids, and we’ve produced it the two years since. There are enough parts for everyone in the fourth grade – some large speaking parts, some only singing in the chorus. We’ve gotten better at figuring out how to audition those kids who want bigger parts, and how to find a place for those who are not at all interested in standing on stage. Predictably, when the parts get handed out, there’s some grumbling, disappointment, and confusion. Kids complain and whine. Some who said they really wanted big parts then don’t seem interested in learning their lines. The director (that would be me) threatens and cajoles and issues ultimatums, just like all directors seem to do (I was hoping I was immune from passive/aggressive behavior, but evidently I’m not). It’s a mess the week before. Kids mumble the songs. Some are more interested in costumes than acting.
Some I want to throttle.
I’m thinking particularly of one girl who complained the whole time about her part. Even though she got the part that fit her, I was not immune to her protest, and began to feel bad about it. But rearranging parts would have caused an uproar. Right or wrong, this is the way things were, and everybody had to work together. This was my mantra, and after awhile, I just said, “Pal, I don’t want to hear about it– your part is your part, and it’s important.” She stewed and I muttered under my breath.
The day before the play, I realized that something wonderful had happened. Kids were challenging each other to be better. There was a cohesiveness in the group I hadn’t seen before. Some said they were too nervous to speak and wanted reassurance. All this because they realized people were going to watch them. THEY STARTED TO CARE.
The girl that had harassed me came up and said “I’m really good at my part now!” My mouth dropped open.
It was a success. Oh, they made mistakes. They forgot lines. If we could have done it three more times, we would have gotten better and better. But what was very obvious in the performance was that they were earnest, and committed, and doing the very best they could. And they were proud, too. The eye-rolling had disappeared, and they smiled and laughed at the end.
Without the deadline and the performance before others – their parents and grandparents, their younger schoolmates, and the fifth graders who had been in the play before and were watching them very carefully – I don’t think we would have seen the commitment to learning and working together. Their work needed to be bigger than them – not about them. When it was given to others, it transcended schoolwork, and served the community.
And in the end, I’m now wondering if part of my reticence about productions in my early years was my fear of failure. I still have that fear, but try not to let it stop me.
So, school plays? Yeah. I love ‘em.
“I wasn’t interested in putting on a little show so that the local paper could come and take pictures”
hey now!
Okay, okay. I felt like that until I met photographer Hank Randall. Jeesh.
Hi Bill,
Thanks for validating something I taught the librarians in my recent workshops about teaching the arts this summer. That final performance or recital or showing is what turns a mere creative exercise into “Art.” Art is all about communication, and for that you need an audience. If you aren’t working with an actual future audience in mind, it’s tough to get motivated!
P.S.
As far as “process vs. product” is concerned – I feel that with kids, the process is what’s important; the product is not. Still it’s important to give them a chance to show their product. I see that as PART of the process!
Hey Bill,
This post reminded me of a booking I got a few years ago. I was hired to write, cast and then put on a “poperetta” about immigration with some 4th graders, and I had 4 hours over a few weeks to do it! I love a challenge; but then when I actually had to do it, I thought “Oh s**t! What did I get myself into???”
Of course I put in many more hours on my own time. These kids were terrific. The first assignment I gave them was to interview someone in their own family about one immigrant ancestor of theirs, and to keep their story to one page only. They mailed them to me a month in advance; from all these stories I wrote the libretto. We used existing songs like “America” by Neil Diamond and more. The kids had a ball coming up with their own costumes and props.
I think knowing that they were going to put on this musical for the community spurred the kids on to do their best. Even if a kid did not get a speaking or singing part (I let them decide whether they were cast or crew) each was the very best curtain-puller, lighting tech, pit musician, etc. s/he could be. It was a marvelous success, and I left that school not only saying “whew!” for pulling it off, but also (and more importantly) feeling extremely uplifted by the kids’ excitement and enthusiasm.
One of the highlights of my career.
Best,
Patricia
You’re right process is more important that product. But without an audience to perform in front of, why do it? Think of it as the difference you feel as a performer, when you are practicing a new piece by yourself and when you practice in front of others. Which involves you more and leads you to perform at your best ability and gives you purpose? I think the key to any performance and/or writing has to be purpose, “Who is your audience?” If it has to be a staged production, so be it.
Whenever I worked with storytelling and students they had to perform in front of their class as a given which was a forced audience. That might have been the type of performance you would have some objection to. But my groups were also given the option to do repeat performances in front of other classes. Sometimes even knowing that that would be an option made their motivation to perform better. That is when the purpose became one of self-direction not forced direction.
Is audience really the only reason for doing art? What about the pleasure of creating and experiencing new ideas, techniques, taking the time to play and explore …. for ourselves, for our own enjoyment? What about personal reflection?
Many of my residencies are process, without the performance. I also do performance-end residnecies, and I’m also willing to do “demonstration”, which to me is a compromise.
If we are doing a performance, then I want to teach performance skills: knowing the material well, knowing how to walk on stage, stand, speak and sing clearly, all the things that go into “stage presence.” These are important life skills to learn, too. If we are presenting a “demonstration” at the end of the residency, the edges will be a little rougher.
In my planning meeting with the teachers, we talk about the differences of what is involved, and they decide. Are the students having other performance activities during the year? If yes, then perhaps we choose to experience more/deeper – songs, rhythm, dance, whatever is involved in the residency – with personal and group reflection.
If there are no other performance opportunities during the year, and teachers choose the performance option, the students may be exposed to fewer songs, dances, whatever, and what they do learn, they polish.
In an ideal world, we’d have time for it all. Yet with monetary and time limits, choices need to be made. I think it’s possible to have positive experiences, breakthroughs and successes of all kinds, in a variety of teaching models.
Thanks for this blog, I did a storytheatre program for 8 weeks at the library last year and the children were so very disappointed only one mother actually showed up for the final “performance”. They put so much into it, from the learning lines to creating invitations and a program. I have to say I fall in love with all the children and I didn’t think I could do it again but your blog and all the comments have made me realize that I’m being selfish. I don’t want to go through the pain of watching those children be disappointed again. I need to give the children that want to return for it and new faces who would have so much fun. The opportunity. Thank You
[…] Bill Harley recently wrote a piece that caught my eye in which he discusses an early reticence, when working with students, to toward a final product – […]
I am in fourth grade at paul cuffee and I really liked the paul cuffee play in 2008. My older sister Dorothy was in it, and I thought she did a great job. thank you, Violet