Wednesday, March 7, 2012

The Perspective Mantra

Kelly Lawrence
TETA BOG
K-12 At Large
Since I began teaching theatre all those years ago (more years than I care to mention), the spring always brings about an aspect of my mentality that I’d rather not face. I call it my “One Act Play Perspective.” You see -- if the show we are working on advances, the more obsessive about the actual competitive process I become. The further we advance, the more obsessive I become. I will go to websites to see who has advanced with us from other districts, other areas, etc. If time allows, I have been known to drive to other contests to scope out the competition. If I know someone who has seen a show, I will call and casually try to ask about it. I know that I’m not alone in this mostly because I have seen or talked to other directors who do the same thing, but over these many years I think that I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it’s not always (or maybe never is) a good and healthy thing.
What I’ve grown to see in myself is not that I’m all about sharing in the good work and success of my friends and colleagues, but rather that I’m all about sizing up the competition and worrying about how the work I’m doing stacks up. While I agree that a certain amount of the competitive spirit is good because it keeps us striving to improve and do better work year-in and year-out, I don’t always care for what it does to my spirit…and in turn to the spirits of my students.

Case in point: Each year most all of us have the talk with our kids about the need to control their emotions in public when hearing the outcome of the contest. Winning and losing gracefully is an important lesson for us to teach our kids, indeed, but how many of us, when the decision didn’t come out in our favor, have had to turn around and through gritted teeth tell our students to reign in their tears? How many times, when the decision did come out in our favor, have we actually managed to control the outburst of cheering from our kids and supporters in favor of that pleased, but controlled applause we’re always reminded is most appropriate? It is so very easy to maintain perspective when the notion of advancing or not advancing still remains in the abstract.

Another case in point: How many of us have launched ourselves into a depression after not advancing to the next level? I certainly know that I have. Somewhere along the way between district and state, I have always managed to lose sight of the desire for a good show and placed way too much emphasis on the hope of a specific outcome.

Final case in point: How many of us have decided that a judge is an imbecile for not advancing our show over one that we felt was completely inferior to ours? Now, come on…don’t sit there and say that you haven’t. Most anyone who has an emotional investment in their work is pained when others don’t see it the way we do. We all hear the stories at TheatreFest every year. Let’s not pretend that stories about “imbecilic judging” are not a favorite topic.

But, you know, I don’t need Dr. Phil to tell me that I should avoid this negative shift in my perspective. I need to make myself avoid it. I need to remember certain ideas and make a mantra of them.

First, as a theatre practitioner I need to remember it’s the work that’s important. I love theatre. I love being a part of making theatre. Doing it is what matters. Secondly, as a teacher I need to remember that it’s the kids that are important. Giving students the opportunity to work hard, very hard, on something to which they have become committed is one of the most important life lessons that we as teachers can ever impart to students. And lastly, I also need to remember that it’s the program that’s important. Lou Ida Marsh explained it best when she said that advancement from one level to the next is not the true sign of success with UIL One Act Play. Rather, she said, success should be measured by whether or not you get on the bus at the end of night after NOT advancing and the kids ask you, “What are we going to do next year?” The fact that your program continues, and hopefully grows stronger with devoted, hard-working students who are just as invested as they were before (and hopefully even more so) is the true measure of success. I must repeat this mantra: It’s the work that’s important. It’s the kids that are important. It’s the program that’s important. That’s the proper UIL One Act Play perspective.

So, here we go. Deep breath in…and out…It’s the work that’s important. It’s the kids that are important. It’s the program that’s important.