Reflections of Goldsmiths PGCE Drama Students 2015-16

Flying through PGCE Drama: An account of aerial stress management and unexpected lessons

I began my PGCE in Drama in September 2015 having been a drama TA for a year and dipping my toe (more like diving head first) into the teaching world. Many people were surprised at my choice to teach in Secondary as I suppose I seemed too fragile to get abuse hurled at me every day by teenagers, which is what it seems many people think constitutes being a secondary school teacher in London. I was told before I began my training to brace myself for “the hardest year of your life”, to ensure I “waved farewell to my social life” and to accept the fact I was going to be very stressed for basically the rest of my working life.

Firstly, I am a Drama teacher which means that I have the best job in the world and the best subject to equip me with everything from behaviour management to promoting reflection, curiosity and empathy as well as producing great work. Secondly, students are children and although this doesn’t always stop one from secretly fearing certain individuals, you have to remember that they want to learn, it’s just about finding the way in which they can do so. This brings me to thirdly, my secret weapon: circus school.

I began taking classes in Aerials at the start of my PGCE year having booked the course on a summer whim and then suddenly panicking when I realised how much work I would have to do. How could I possibly take three hours out a week? How could I waste what precious time I had outside of school? Little did I know that this would be another amazing teaching tool to add to my belt. There are the obvious ways it has helped me throughout my training, for example, you can’t worry about all the marking you’ve yet to finish when you are hanging upside down from great heights which ensured that I had at least a few hours a week where my mind could rest from ‘teacher brain’. Also, all the pro-exercise jargon like “endorphins” proved to be true and I felt restored every Saturday after my class. In the break between courses I felt myself becoming exhausted and impatient before realising how much the classes were helping me to manage my stress levels. Although I do genuinely feel that teaching is the best job, I have to admit that it can be stressful and that it is so vital to have an outlet for that stress and to find things that make your work/life balance that little bit easier.

In addition to these expected benefits there were moments of realisation that helped me directly with my teaching. One of which took place during handstand class, yes I voluntarily put myself into a class dedicated to handstands, and no I had never done a handstand before in my life. So there I was surrounded by fit, flexible inverted circus folk while the teacher explained the next activity when I suddenly realised I was the student who desperately needed SEN support. I did not speak the same language, I did not have the same skills set and I did not have a clue what was going on. Having gone to University to study stage directing and then training to teach drama it had been so long since I had been genuinely out of my depth. I realised that how I felt as the teacher was trying to get me to do a straddle handstand against the wall (when clearly my body had no intention of complying and my mind had no idea what the instructions were) must be similar to how students feel when I am explaining something completely new or when I am expecting them to know how to perform. A diagram, or series of images or someone to model the steps for me would have helped me enormously. So often when we teach the subjects we know well we can forget how it feels to truly learn something for the first time, to be the least experienced, to be scared and unsure in our abilities.  

As important as stress management, exercise and work/life balance is this would be my greatest advice to any teachers, training or experienced: go do something you are terrible at. Feel what it’s like to be the least able student in a class, remember how terrifying trying new things can be, and experience what you ask of your students.

Madeleine Giles

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Inclusive Drama

Whilst working as a Teaching Assistant, the School I was based in made the decision to remove Drama from their KS3 curriculum. I then spent two years working with the first cohort of Year 7’s to be effected by this change and I felt there was a lacking of cohesion amongst the year group as a whole.  I recalled my own experiences of Secondary school and how lonely I had felt before discovering a love of Drama, I was not very good at sports or music and as a result had felt isolated from my peers. I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps with the absence of Drama in the curriculum there was a lacking of opportunities for some student’s to socialise and relax at school in a supportive and structured environment. After all, for some students the playground is a daunting place and sports are not necessarily as appealing to everyone.

I felt this was having a particular impact on my student at the time who is on the Autistic Spectrum. So I approached the Deputy Headmistress about creating a Lunch time Drama club for the students who by that time were in Year 8.

The Drama Club proved to be a success and I noticed that many of our participants were also SEND pupils. It became a real challenge when I was approached by a colleague who worked with a Visually Impaired boy whom was very keen to join the Drama club. She was concerned he was feeling isolated and was hoping he would gain some independence and begin forming new friendships by participating. At first I was daunted and considered saying that I did not think it would be possible to accommodate his needs, especially as our sessions usually only lasted 20 minutes and consisted of Drama games with, perhaps, a short scene every now and then . However, I believe Drama is about nurturing the child as a whole and should be as inclusive as possible. I was sure I could find a way to allow this young boy to engage in Drama and help him to connect with his peers from whom he often felt isolated.

Looking at the ‘Why?’ First

Initially I was sceptical because I was concerned about how the student could access the activities I would run in the Drama Club.

I spent some time talking to his TA and observing his interactions with other students in lessons. I found that this student, whilst never alone, appeared to feel incredibly isolated. A conversation with him revealed to me that he wanted to have more friends. He liked his two friends who normally would help him in the playground but said it was boring when they could not play with him as he would have to sit in the office and read.

Later on I began observing him in environments that should theoretically lend themselves to building peer relationships such as PE and during break times.

This period of observation allowed me to acquire a new lens; instead of focussing on how I would make the Drama accessible I began to consider why this young boy wanted to do Drama. What he hoped to get out of it, and how could I address that need through Drama? My conclusion was much simpler than I had initially thought it might be. Like all 12-13 year olds; this young man was growing up and striving for independence and a sense of self. He seemed to have an acute awareness that only one or two of his peers would meet with him and support him and seemed to blame this on the presence of his TA. This caused some behavioural problems that manifested in his being rude and deliberately trying to find ways to be non-compliant. I also got the impression that he felt like his peers just needed to ‘get to know him’ better and Drama club might be somewhere they could do that.

I conducted some research and I came across an article called ‘How Accessible are the Arts to the Visually Impaired?’ (the article can be found here: http://www.throughscarlettseyes.com/how-accessible-are-the-arts-to-the-visually-impaired/) about Antony Gough who is visually impairment but was inspired whilst at school to pursue the Performing Arts because it gave him a sense of freedom and confidence. He went on to create a hypothetical theatre company called Vision in Transmission which focuses on using physical and sensory methods to make Drama accessible for those with visual impairments. This inspired me to research physical theatre drama games and I set myself the challenge of finding ways to make the games I already made use of more sensory.

I found I really enjoyed the challenge of looking at resources in a different way and was astonished as the young boy diligently attended every session, took part eagerly in every game, and would always greet me with a “Good morning! Miss, is Drama club on this Week!?”

His TA reported an increase in his confidence and said she felt attending Drama club had even helped with some of the behavioural issues he had previously had. I felt that this was because his TA (after I released her during Drama club to see if this changed the way her student behaved) was more confident that she could ‘step back’ from her student and allow him room to be independent. My theory that this particular student was striving for independence seemed correct, he would often shoo his TA away and insist he would ask me to bring him to meet her in his next lesson after Drama club finished. His confidence seemed to blossom and he began happily using his cane (a source of argument and contention between him and his TA previously) so that he would not need someone to guide him along the halls and he walked ahead of me with his new friends helping him.

 Conversely the other students had the opportunity to ‘get to know’ this wonderful, funny, energetic young man and begin to view him as something other than the enigma they had previously held him as. That young man even expressed an interest in taking Drama in KS4.

As teachers, we are in a position to help elevate and encourage young people and that experience taught me that sometimes it takes a bit of creative thinking to help make that possible.  

Georgina Viveash

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“Congratulations, you are now an adult…”

“Congratulations, you are now an adult!” Exclaimed my grandmother on my graduation day. I was 21 and I had just graduated with a degree in Theatre Studies at Lancaster University. The word ‘adult’ is one that has always caused me great distress. Even as a young child I used to promise myself that I would never be an adult. I would stay young like my childhood friend Peter Pan.

“Congratulations, you are now an adult…” The word ‘adult’ resonated throughout the rest of the hour, day, even week. I began to question my role within society. Should be able to take ownership of my life now that I am an adult? This time last week, even this time yesterday, the moment before I shook hands with the man on stage, I was not an adult. Instead I was a student. The word ‘student’ is one I feel very comfortable with. It suggests liveliness, excitement...It is at the complete opposite end of the life spectrum to an ‘adult.’ But now I am an adult, such a daunting word, with a definitive ‘t’ at the end.

“When I grow up I want to be a teacher.” I said during lunch with teddy bears, drinking tepid tap water from a teapot and eating plastic slices of beige bread. See the emphasis here is ‘grow up’ but I still felt like I was ‘growing up.’ I decided to dive into the world of work and was offered the role of Teaching Assistant in a deprived school in Oldham. After the first week, my title of “Teaching Assistant” seemed inappropriate, as several teachers prohibited me from assisting them at all.

“That’s your seat Miss next to Alex, you need to keep him engaged!” Barked the teacher as I entered the classroom. The spare seat was directly next to the child entitled to support, in my head I questioned the teacher’s decision… surely this excludes the pupil from the rest of the class? But the teacher had spoken. As the lesson began I found myself sitting quietly and following the teacher’s instructions. I was no longer an ‘adult.’ My grandmother was wrong. I was a pupil. I became a ghost fading deeper and deeper into the display boards at the back of the classroom.

“An adult… I need to be an adult about this,” I concluded whilst thrashing back and forth trying to drift off to sleep. The word that had been causing me so much distress, was now the only word I could express… How could I become an adult presence in the classroom? How could I show ownership in my role?  The following week whilst walking to the lesson I could feel dread fizzing in my stomach, my throat, my mouth. I wanted to walk straight passed the room, but I knew I needed to be an adult, an adult with a definitive ‘t!’

“Your chair is in the same place as last week Miss,” declared the teacher as I entered and started circulating the room. The pupil’s eyes began to follow me around the classroom, they quietened down as I walked past and others asked me questions. They recognised there was another adult in the room… me an adult! The teacher gestured for me to sit down, to surrender and retreat back to the degrading classroom chair. I ignored his rather exaggerated gesture, a gesture that communicated confusion and a little panic. I lifted my head slightly higher, smiled at the teacher, and carried on assisting the learning of the pupils.

“No Sir, I wanted Miss to help me!” Moaned one pupil. The tension lasted throughout the whole school year, each week I would dread the 100 minutes on a Wednesday between break and lunchtime. To the pupils I was a dictionary, a clarifier, and an encourager…. To the teacher I was a body that circulated his classroom and refused to sit down. I was there to develop understanding, prevent any confusion and ensure all could access the learning. The key word here being “all” my role promoted inclusion not just for my targeted student, but also for those who were struggling in silence, or felt too inferior to raise their hand and ask for help.

“Thank you for your help this year.” Grunted the teacher at the end of the final lesson of the summer term. “Your welcome” said the adult me. “About time” thought the child in me. Whilst there was a great sense of relief that I would never enter his classroom again, there was a very – and I stress the word very here – very small part of me that was disappointed that my time within his classroom had come to an end.

It’s now 3 years down the line, and I still feel sorry for the narrow mindedness of the teacher, who did not see the potential of having an extra adult within the classroom. As I begin my teacher training I am certain of how not to utilise teaching assistants within my own Classroom. There is a huge stigma within schools that teaching assistants are more of a burden than a help to the classroom teacher. But given the chance most would jump at the offer to lead a plenary, take charge of delivering a group activity or participate in team teaching.

Teaching assistants should not be perceived or treated as an alien body that has invaded your precious classroom, but instead as a resource, as a partner, as an adult!

Laura Bocking

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Fintan

This piece is from a PGCE student who has been invited to reflect on lenses. This micro moment described here has isolated a life changing pivoting of circumstances. Katrina took the courage to reject the lenses handed to her by the important and powerful and to risk taking quick but crucial look through one handed to her by a student. The impact of that decision has brought her to today as she begins to train as a drama teacher.

August 2012, having just returned from a summer in Thailand, I was glad to be home. My own bed, home cooked meals and familiar faces. I was delighted to get a phone call from a colleague of mine telling me they had recommended me for a position teaching drama in a local secondary school. I arranged to meet the Principal, a scary nun like character who wore men’s shoes. We had a chat and during this time she referred to me as ‘unique’ on several occasions both flattering and terrifying at the same time.

I arrived in school on the first morning eager, excited and nervous. To be honest I felt like a bit of a fraud, I was an actor, yes a fully qualified one with a degree and I was a drama facilitator outside school but I didn’t see myself as a teacher, I wasn’t qualified. I had to reassure myself constantly that I had a right to be there, I got the job fair and square (even if no one else interviewed for it.)

After my first cup of coffee the teachers weren’t long probing me about what I taught and who I was teaching. ‘Oh you’ll have the lovely class with Fintan!’ Followed by all the negative back story that I didn’t really need to hear, but they felt they had to tell me like it was their duty. I learned that he had been suspended on several occasions and was constantly in detention for behaviour issues. I was also told that ‘he shouldn’t be in school, he wasn’t fit for it.’ Followed by a chorus of ‘good luck!’ What was I letting myself in for?

As I entered my first double drama lesson with Fintan’s class, I was met with fifteen year old glares and stares from all around the room. After briefly introducing myself and letting them ask me a few questions (mainly where my accent was from) the Ice was broken, well slightly cracked. We played a few drama games to get to know each other and also to show then that drama is fun. There was a few behaviour problems but nothing I couldn’t handle. I began to tell them what we would be doing over the course of the year, including the plays we would be reading and working on. Straight away Fintan shouted out ‘Miss. I’ve seen that play a few months ago’ unsure of whether he was having me on, I asked him what it was about and who were the main characters and to his credit, he knew and gave me a lengthy description including the set. I let him talk about the play until he had no more to say because that was Fintan engaging with me and saying a great big ‘yes’ to drama. His barrier was down, he jumped on board with me and I was delighted.

Throughout the year, the conversation of Fintan was always a hot topic in the staff room. What he was up to this week or who had given him detention. The teachers were amazed at how he was working in my class and wouldn’t work in any other classes. My answer to them was it wasn’t me it was the drama that he’s engaged with. He has finally found something he likes and is good at. I finished that year knowing that if I had achieved nothing else that year I had helped Fintan to engage in learning through drama.

Fintan is the reason why I’m now training to become a secondary drama teacher – so that I no longer feel like a fraud!

Katrina McCann