Conversation Around Enhancing Deep Understanding of Literature Through Drama
Emotion is what changes people’s lives. You can tell people a string of facts, but put them in someone else’s shoes for an hour or a day, it changes how they view things.
Gloria, you have a background in theatre and
drama , don’t you?
Importantly though, my interest in children’s literature and love of dramatic play was put to good use in my classrooms from my very first day as a tea cher. Drama and literature proved to be great starting points for meaningful integration across the primary curriculum, especially with music and visual arts but also with the sciences and social sciences. How fortunate I was to have that background! And how wonderful I’ve been able to deepen my own passion for the arts in education.
I didn’t work with Dorothy Heathcote
(
1971 and
1984), but I did read everything I could get my hands on about her work and watched a documentary where she worked with disadvantaged boys in their early teens. She was unassuming, quite matter of fact—a larger-than-life working class woman who spoke of
drama coming from a crossroads in life, and she would get down to these youth’s level and ask:
So what do you want to do a play about?
The stories, the
drama , came from those boys, and they grew as she guided them, instilled trust and risk-taking and questioned their ideas further.
Trust and risk-taking are important qualities in all learning. It took time for me as an academic to develop trust and risk-taking with teachers at my children’s school. But I started a collegial group with interested classroom teachers there and was gradually invited into some of their classrooms to model the use of drama with literature. I found in both school and university contexts that drama was always a way of engaging students who were usually difficult to engage. At the same time, it was a way to challenge those students who were already motivated to learn. And it definitely helped improve children’s understanding of text and character.
I was surprised that the arts in general and drama and dance in particular were often underused components of the primary curriculum—often just used as fill-in activities or on a rainy Friday afternoon or extra-curricular subjects for those whose parents could afford the fees. And this was despite the growing and, in my view, increasingly unequivocal evidence that student involvement in quality arts-rich experiences enhances both their social and emotional wellbeing as well as their academic outcomes.
My partner and I were asked to conduct a series of workshops with teenagers from a Youth Detention Centre. These young people were deemed outcasts and so dangerous that they were body searched before entering the space, and there were two guards at each door as we worked. Nervously, we drew upon H eathcote’s work of getting down to their level to establish rapport and trust and letting them direct their lives. It took time, but these tough, stony-faced, arms folded, ‘You’ve got to be kidding’ teenagers slowly, ever so slowly started revealing themselves and replayed their often heartbreaking stories.
In the second pivotal experience, I undertook a series of seven workshops in drama at an old age community (as it was known then). These people didn’t request drama ; they were told it would be good for them. They were frail, all in their 80s or older and some suffered with dementia, while others had no English. After the first three sessions, I was ready to give up. Half way through each session, the Bingo tables were set up, and these gentle souls started slowly leaving the drama space and sliding their walking frames towards the Bingo tables. Nothing I did seem to engage them.
After some good cries, I decided I was not going to let Bingo defeat me. I completely abandoned my original plan and decided to find out, celebrate and record their life stories. They clearly remembered events from their pasts. What amazed me was as they started sharing, these people, who had lived together for decades, did not really know one other. As they worked to listen and respond with great interest, they would interject with remarks such as ‘I felt that way too,’ ‘Yes, I remember that time as well,’ ‘Did you love that song too?’ Beautiful connections were fostered.
These two incidents taught me a great deal about learner-centred education and its emotional and social benefits to enrich lives. Can you share your defining experiences?
Your question made me think carefully—it’s difficult to just single out two moments, isn’t it? I have chosen one from my youth ...