I do a lot of things in my classroom to teach, manage and assess my students. Countless assignments, procedures and projects are designed to keep the academic machinery of my classroom running smoothly. But when I want to know what my students really think about the world, I ask them to write a play.
A play—or even a few lines of dialogue—is an invitation to share knowledge that comes from outside of school. Students can share the language, context and stories that traditional schooling often ignores.
Sometimes my students astound me with their playwriting. Their characters twist language in ways that are unfamiliar yet enchanting to me. Their settings take me from jail cells to skyscrapers. Plots lure me into the untold stories of their lives. Other times, my students’ plays trod more familiar territory of young love or school-day conflicts.
Either way, I begin to understand where my students come from and what matters to them as people. I see the possibilities that their imaginations are opening for them. And since I never have enough time in class to really get to know my students, playwriting has become an important way for me to listen and learn.
My students also learn to listen to their own voices and to one another. Most students write about what they know; their friends, families and enemies, all re-imagined as characters on stage. And of course, they write about themselves. In my students’ plays, young men must decide between loyalty to their neighborhoods and the independence of college; young women struggle to balance family obligations and their own goals for the future. There are always difficult choices to be made.
Writing a resolution is often the biggest challenge. To help the process along, students act out scenes written by their classmates. These unrehearsed performances bring students’ words to life and mirror the playwright’s hopes and struggles. It’s an experience that empowers students as authors of both their plays and their lives, and I’ve found that most students genuinely enjoy it.
After the performances, the rest of the class offers feedback (“The character of Benny cracked me up!”) and ask open-ended questions (“What if Jasmine decided not to answer the phone?”). Some questions lead to another round of acting in which the student cast improvises an altered set of circumstances or a new turn of events. In this way, students open up possibilities for each other. They help each other think through problems, consider different perspectives and imagine solutions.
And through this process, I’ve noticed that my students usually listen very carefully to one another. I often find that I’m able to step back and observe as my students grapple with issues of race, class, gender and power. These are difficult issues to discuss, but talking about them within a context of an unfinished play can make it easier. Because students are the authors, it’s an active discussion rather than a passive one. Because there’s still time to change the ending, it’s a hopeful discussion rather than a cynical one.
Playwriting does not appear explicitly in very many curricula, but it fits well into any classroom that values reading, writing, decision-making and most importantly, listening. Not only does playwriting help me to listen to my students, but it helps young people listen to their own voices and to one another.
Melville is high school English, Spanish and drama teacher in Pennsylvania.
Links:
[1] http://www.tolerance.org/author/kathleen-melville