"I just made a connection!"*

The title of this post can be attributed to my adorable kindergarteners from last semester. In their reading instruction, the librarian and teachers had told the children to make connections to the literature (this later extended to connections with other people, as well) and say the above statement, accompanied by a hand gesture that points from the speaker to the object of connection - basically, the "surf's up" symbol but gesturing back and forth with the thumb and pinky. This symbol became a norm for me and my teaching partner last semester, and every once in a while, we still joke about "connections" we make in class.

I know. Things only teachers would find funny.

Here are some of my kids from the Fall - I miss them so much!

So in my readings for 4210 this past week, I found myself connecting with what the author was telling us about the elements of writing workshop - environment, demonstration, direct instruction, inquiry and homework (Or as the author calls it "the potential of the world." Although what she describes is not traditional homework like this, the term listed above is a little too "PC" for me to use without wanting to laugh. Let's put it this way, if my teachers in school asked me to view a 15-20 page homework assignment as a "potential of the world," it wouldn't make me any more thrilled about having to do it.)

And although I could very easily sit here and write about the connections between the classrooms I've observed in and the writing workship process described in the book, I actually related this topic to something else: my job.

I work as a dance and musical theatre teacher (okay, so it technically is going to relate to teaching) throughout the week, and one of the best parts about musical theatre is the games. I know this must sound like a "cop-out" to many of you, but drama games are a time for students to try something without fear that they're being graded alongside their peers and without having to worry about doing all the steps in a dance "just right."

While the environment of a dance studio can be somewhat monochromatic - all yellow walls, hard wood floors very similar to the color of the walls and mirrors reflecting the all yellow walls and yellow-tinted floor - I would consider it a blank slate of sorts; kind of like the early pages of Harold and the Purple Crayon (one of my favorite books from when I was younger). It holds potential for creativity and imagination ... and most importantly, it offers no distractions for the students. :-) However, with certain games, I must bring in props - costumes, hats, slips of paper and pencils, etc. - and this sets the tone for my students.

Next comes direct instruction: I stand (or more often than not, if my students are sitting, I sit with them) and explain what we'll be doing and what is required of them. Often I'll throw in some theatre jargon like "improv" or "standing profile" to help focus the kids on what their mission for the game is, however, many times I wait until the end of the game so they can tell me what they were working on via this game. This, like the book describes, mostly consists of me talking, yet it is (usually) brief and to the point so we can go on with our game!

The next part is my favorite: demonstration and inquiry at the same time! I have a couple of the students come up and try a game with me and it's my favorite part of class. It's awesome to see them think up their own ideas and also to see them improve week to week with their stage presence. I try to model for them not only as an example during a game, but also when I address them in class. An actor/singer should always be expressive, articulate and direct to their audience, so I always speak loud enough to be heard and express what I'm saying through my gestures and facial expressions. As for the articulation, I'm not always so great at that, but I try not to get too tongue-tied. :-)

Then, students can practice the game by themselves - further inquiry and trial & error: they get to see what works, what doesn't, where they can apply different theatre terms that we've talked about (i.e. In improv, one of the major rules is to never say no. If someone suggests something and you say, "No, I don't want to do that," not only have you stopped the action of the scene, but you've made the other actor have to figure out something entirely different to do. One of the best games to practice this and other responses is "Change of Heart." Students go about a scene talking to each other and when the teacher "buzzes," the actor who just spoke must completely change the line they said before. Once students understand this game, they tend to come up with some hilarious scenarios.

Finally, the best part is seeing these things translate elsewhere. Students will constantly come to class one week and say, "Guess what I saw this week ..." and tell me how they saw a musical at the Fox or how they taught a dance step to their best friend. It's so cool to see them actually absorbing this material, and very reassuring to know that they certainly don't need me to guide them all the time in order to learn. Whew - what a relief, right?

Through this mini-analysis, I've found that my dance teaching and my school teaching are more connected than I originally imagined. Hopefully some of my 5 years or so "in the field" at work will  come in handy in a couple of months when I get my own school classroom. Let's hope so.