You learn by teaching. Or so I've been told many times.
This week was intense. It's Thursday night, and I have a midterm tomorrow morning, but I feel like the week is over. A little Spanish test is nothing. Not after this week. After this month! Hell, it's been over a year now of this never-ending pressure to learn everything in seconds. My body aches; my head groans. I've been fighting mild depression for nearly a month.
But it's over. Sure, I still have a massive paper hanging over my head that I have to get written. Sure, I've got months of directing to conquer. Sure, my test tomorrow is a freaking midterm. And sure, I don't know that my car really is going to be here before 10AM today. But all that, save for the directing, will be over very soon, and directing? That's easy compared to this week.
Last Friday, I got a call from one of the high school students. The drama teacher at the school had been out on "administrative leave" all week, and the class had literally fallen apart. It was chaos. Hell. The Advanced Drama students left in charge of the class couldn't keep the Beginning Drama students under control, and no one would listen to any substitute teacher. The principal had come in to try to address the situation, and it was clear they needed someone to lead the class. Some students suggested I do it, and so they called me.
Had I known what I was getting myself into then, I might not have agreed. In my perfect-world head, no one knew enough about theatre to run the class. Theatre? I know enough about theatre to run a drama class for a few days! I literally ran out my door and biked down to the school immediately. I talked with the student who had called me and the principal, and it was decided that I'd come in on Monday to run the class. I was ecstatic!
I got there Monday to find that there was no real lesson plan, and no one seemed to agree on what they were supposed to be doing. The reality that teaching a class was going to be way harder than I thought hit me, and I felt my insides start turning to mush. So what did I do? Faked it until I made it. The class stayed under considerable control for the period, the bell rang, and they were off.
And then I found myself standing in front of my cast only minutes later. It was time for our first meeting/"rehearsal". Once again, I could feel my insides doing a dance of terror, and once again, I acted completely in control. Whatever I said, they listened. My word was law. That was scary. Much scarier than rebellious teenagers questioning my authority. I could trust them not to let me lead them wrong, but now? No, I had trust, and the idea of losing that trust was terrifying.
By four thirty, when the rehearsal was scheduled to be over, everyone was having too much fun to care. I made sure those who had to leave knew what time it was, and then let the cast keep doing the "bonding exercise" they had been playing. I finally had to kick them out because I had to go and couldn't leave them unsupervised in the room. I went home with my heart soaring. I did it. I really did it! I kept control without being tyrannical. I was a leader, and a good one too. I stuck to the plans I had and accomplished more than I intended. I can't wait to do the read-through with the cast on Monday.
And then I walked into the drama class on Tuesday, and it was chaos. The "Little Theatre" where the class normally convenes wasn't available, and I was unprepared to work on anything in desks. The lesson plans I'd made called for standing up and moving around and the use of the theatre. So we went outside. Where it was all wet and gloomy and the class was easily distracted. I lost half the class, and there was no way I could keep control of all of them. It was terrible. I got the names of all the students who chose to stay focused and told them I'd let their teacher know they were wonderful when he came back. I gave up on trying to teach and got them doing improv games until class ended.
So I walked in on Wednesday with new determination. I knew the theatre wouldn't be available again, so I made up lesson plans that would work within the classroom: vocal exercises. It wasn't a perfect class period, but it was leagues better than Tuesday. I was happy enough with it, and ready to do even better the next day.
So when I went in yesterday, the teacher was back. I was a little disappointed, to be honest, especially after biking over in the "rain", but the class was glad he was back. And then I started hearing the stories about what the class had been like the first week. I knew it was bad, but in my perfect-world head, it was just teenagers talking and not paying attention. A free period.
There were fights breaking out. The students who wanted to learn couldn't. The responsibility to lead and keep things under control was on the Advanced Drama students who had no idea how to keep their peers under control. No one was happy about the situation, not even the "problem" students. People were ending up on the floor in ridiculous wrestling matches of teenage angst, likely only worsened by the loss of their teacher for an indefinite amount of time. No one knew when he'd be back, and no one had any authority.
It had little to do with me personally, but when I came in on Monday, I changed things. I convinced them that I had authority, and they believed me. They told their teacher that I had "saved" the class, and he thanked me for it. The students thanked me for it. And I couldn't be more thankful for the week I had, learning first hand how very hard it is to be a teacher. It's not as easy as it looks.
Which makes it all the more appealing.
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