A Fine Arts Approach to All Learning
On a typical day in my classroom, students are rarely sitting in seats. They are likely loud and boisterous, and are more than likely creating. On numerous occasions, they aren’t even in my classroom: they have branched out to other corners of the school to record or rehearse.
For the first four years of my teaching career, my classroom was right next to the assistant principal’s office. It wasn’t rare for him to pop in and check on what we were doing. Office aides or visitors to the classroom would frequently ask “Where is your teacher?” I was right there in the mix, helping students with their designs and creations. Over time, I brought the same atmosphere of these classes into English Language Arts.
Teaching theatre and English courses showed me that literature and the arts don’t have to be removed from more analytical subjects. In theatre, all the disciplines come into play. Students apply language arts to analyze scripts. They use math skills to sew costumes and build sets. They research history to grasp the historical context of a play. I had students who could wire our soundboard better than paid electricians.
My passion for theatre and self-driven learning began in middle school. In sixth grade, I met the educator who sparked my desire to teach. In Mrs. Erb’s class, my dreams could crash like waves onto the walls, tables, floors. I felt as if a part of me had been released.
I wrote a play about philosophers and she encouraged me to have it performed in front of the school. I stepped into the world of Shakespeare, portraying the roles of Ophelia in 6th grade and Viola in 7th grade. I competed in Odyssey of the Mind.
Thanks to Mrs. Erb, the quiet middle child with escapist tendencies found out what made her soar.
Taking risks never resulted in lower grades, but in an end product that shaped my view of learning. Mrs. Erb gave me space to guide my own education, even if it was just for one class period per day.
In high school, I found another crew of people to celebrate this identity. I remember how excited I was to take an actual theatre class freshman year. The first semester focused on public speaking. In October, I auditioned for my first high school play and was cast as a stepsister in The True Story of Cinderella: Stepsisters' Story. Older students welcomed me into their ranks. After that, I traveled with the one-act competitive team to observe and assist in any way I could. I was one lone little freshman fully immersing myself into theatre.
I asked to enroll in Advanced Drama, without having the full year of Introduction, and was granted entry. Again, I felt validated in my love of theatre. Every nerdy aspect of who I was they encouraged and loved. I could fully engulf myself in memorizing lines, designing costumes, practicing stage makeup, painting sets, even organizing props. This continued throughout the rest of my high school career. Between competing in speech, acting in two shows per year, and competing in Mock Trial, I had a regular outlet from my core classes, peer drama, and the day-to-day stresses that come with high school.
My theatre experience has influenced the way I run my own theatre program as a teacher. I revel to see students who find a voice in characters, a family in the cast and crew, and solace under the stage lights. These students are the most empathetic, compassionate, hardworking kids I have ever had the privilege to teach.
In theatre class, I never hear “How many points is this worth?” or “How long does this have to be?” Instead, students have tangible, real-life audiences who will be viewing their end product. They have the space to struggle through multiple approaches to creating a piece of art. Students collaborate with their classmates to tackle the daunting task of seeing a performance through from concept to completion.
Jordan, a former student, remarked, “One thing that theatre taught me was how to step out of my comfort zone and go for what I want! It made me more confident and I knew that no matter how scared I was, I could step out on stage and my fears would go away!”
Being a theatre educator helped me see what forgoing grades could accomplish. In my experience, students in my theatre classes are goal driven, product oriented. Theatre encourages project-based learning, collaboration, calculated risk taking, problem solving, empathy, critical thinking, and community building. Students crave feedback in order to improve their performance or product, not to add up points. They learn from previous experiences and failures, rather than taking on the mindset “I’m no good at this.”
When I started applying my insights from theatre to my English Language Arts classes, they became much more interactive, collaborative, and project based. I involved students in the conversation of what they wanted to achieve in English and what personal growth looked like for them. Students kept portfolios with written reflections on various assessments, including writing and presentations. At this point, I was still working within the framework of a gradebook and regular interim assessments for state tests.
As time went on, I found myself asking, “Is this letter truly representing what students are accomplishing in my class?” I discussed with colleagues a shift toward standards-based grading, but had a difficult time finding my footing with it. Little by little, I have moved away from placing zeros in the gradebook and imposing rigid due dates due. Still, I struggled with the way many students approached my class. How could I get my English classes to adopt the impassioned learning of my theatre classes?
After viewing Matt Brisbin’s TEDTalk “Throwing Out the Gradebook,” I started to shift my thinking. I asked myself how I can take my philosophy about instruction and move toward a gradeless classroom.
I am still working through the logistics, reading books from teachers who have done it, mapping out how all this will work. I have opened a conversation within my school. My administration is encouraging it. I am at the beginning of my journey into a gradeless classroom. My plan for this year is to have focus goals. The students will create their own goals within the larger goals of the class, curating artifacts and evidence of learning in portfolios.
I don’t have it all figured out and I am sure there will be more tweaks to come. However, I am excited about where this is going and what it will mean for students within my classroom. I want my students to have the opportunity to become passionate learners, develop empathy through reading, and find their voice through writing. These are goals that won’t be found in state standards or standardized tests. They are skills learned through authentic experiences within a community of learners.
Obviously, these skills are valued and nurtured most noticeably within literature and arts. However, these skills can be fostered in any subject area. How can we create classrooms where all students see risks as necessary steps rather than debilitating obstacles?
No matter the content area, students should be able to apply their learning and demonstrate their growth in ways that build on their strengths, the areas in which they are most confident. As a student, my theatre, literature, and fine arts classes focused on demonstrating mastery. A performance, a gallery, a visual, a competition. I could take what I learned from my classes and create a body of evidence I loved. My passions compelled me to produce my absolute best work.
“How does this apply to my subject area?” This question came up in a recent discussion with fellow teachers about going gradeless. I wanted to start listing all the ways it can work, but with the discussion being over Zoom, the conversation erupted into “I don’t see how this will work” from many attendees.
The traditional approach to measuring proficiency is summative assessment in the form of a test. One easy alternative is to allow students to place these kinds of assessments into a portfolio as evidence. Guide them to analyze the questions they struggled with and why. This practice is well worth the additional class time it requires. As they continue to gather evidence of their learning (not just tests!), both teacher and student can see evidence of thinking and growth. Portfolios can include writing samples, presentations, discussions—pieces of learning of which the student is most proud.
Could a student use an approach like this to show growth in problem solving in a math or science class? What portfolio items could students include to illustrate understanding of the concepts taught? In theatre, I have seen students work their way from a pile of discarded materials to fully realized sets with moving parts. They calculated, measured, failed, and started over. They continued this process until they succeeded—and were overjoyed with the result.
How can we give students this experience of real-world learning in all subject areas? That, to me, is the goal.
Shawndra Roberts is certified in IB Theatre and Secondary English. Over her 7 years of teaching, she has taught in Oklahoma, Tennessee, and is now in Oregon. She currently teaches 9th and 11th grade English Language Arts in a suburb of Portland. You can follow her on Twitter at @RobertsShawndra.
