Back at PeeVee, Drama was a joke. In my first few years, it was taught by one of those touchy-feely, Special Ed/Art teachers who basically believed that Drama was the perfect outlet for those angst-ridden teens to show their feelings (now just because this woman introduced me to my then soon-to-be-ex-wife via a blind date doesn’t mean that I don’t have the utmost respect for her... can’t you tell that I do?). In other words, not a whole helluvalotta theatre was being taught there.
When my Shakespeare kids began to produce their "Nights with the Bard," we started to pull in some of the drama students, which was not really appreciated by the new Drama teacher, one who actually was trying to teach drama. The more I worked with the Shakespeare kids, however, the more I knew that this was the way to go... these kids learned more about themselves and problem-solving (let alone about matters textual, financial, and public relational) in their ten-week production schedule than many of my Honors kids learned in an entire year of 2H.
I saw the possibilities, but I also saw the reality. Drama was a dumping ground. Since many Drama teachers have the same noble, though misguided, intentions as PeeVee’s first (not really first, but first for me) Drama teacher, the counseling department is all-too-quick to pick up on the fact that this is the perfect class into which those angst-ridden teens can be placed. Also, since the classes are notorious for being a place where emotions are set loose, but little work is done, the classes also become a magnet for the lazy show-offs, who wish the attention but not the effort needed to put on a real show.
Seeing the possibilities, and having complained to Frankie (during a summer jaunt to C.H.S., where she was still my Professional Growth advisor)--becoming what Guy Kawasaki might term an evangelist for the Real Drama Class--I became the more-than-willing object for Frankie’s desire to rebuild her site’s Drama program.
The former Drama teacher at C.H.S. was an absolutely incredible acting teacher, creating a supporting cast member on a mid-rated sitcom (who became--for the show’s three-year run--a kind of school hero). She was not, however, a Theatre teacher (or a Real Drama Teacher, in my too-often-too-opinionated view). She couldn’t really produce a successful show, and her knowledge of Tech Theatre was limited.
The kids, however, loved her. Most students love acting teachers... since they tend to border on fostering the same kind of academic anarchy as the (not-Real) Drama teachers do. And her classes were a magnet for students and a dumping ground as well. In the summer of my transfer to C.H.S., Frankie had told me that I would have two full sessions of Drama/Advanced Drama (egad, another combination class!). In September, I would learn how full "full" was.
In academic courses like English, there is a class cap(acity) of 39 students. Never mind that to have an English class of 39 completely guts any teacher’s ability to give a quality education to most of the nearly two score students; we’re talking the reality of the district numb(er-crunch)ing situation. Drama was not seen as an academic class, however... thus, it’s dumping ground status. In third period Drama, I had forty-seven students. Fourth period, fifty-two. When I questioned Frankie about this, she told me of the Drama cap: fifty-five... just like Physical Education classes.
Over one hundred students over a three hour/two class period parcel of time. And while many wanted "drama," few wanted a Real Drama Class. They wanted a place to do a few "improvs" (improvised scenes) per term and no real written work. When I handed out brand-new Drama texts and demanded that they read at least three plays outside of class, as well as doing two acting projects per term, I had to deal with a near-mutiny.
One thing a student should never tell a teacher is "But we never had to do that with (fill in another teacher’s name)." I heard that more than I care to remember those first two terms. And while counselors had not caught on to the fact that Drama was no longer a Mic(key Mouse) class, the students had. Spring terms brought one forty-two student section of Drama third period and a twenty-student section of Advanced Drama fourth period.
This lower class total and the inclusion of a non-combined Advanced Drama section were probably mitigating factors in my return from the Living Burn-Outs in the spring of my first year at C.H.S.. Of course, it didn’t stop certain members of the counseling staff from bitching at or about me, grumbling that I was "turning Drama into some kind of college prep elective." Like that was a bad thing.
Expectations. Naughty, naughty.
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