Teaching is Improvised Theater

Act I: Opening Night

The students enter, claiming seats at the U-shaped desks. They’ve brought in Tic-Tacs and gum just to spite the “no food” rule. Giggling and whispers fill the air before my performance begins. At the lectern, I study notes to make sure I don’t miss anything. Today, I’ve sworn off a slideshow in preference for simplicity: notes on the board. 

I wait patiently now, standing in the center of my audience. They are the opposite of ready. Just one student makes eye contact with me. He is the only kid with their mouth shut. I wait longer, gazing across the faces of students who would rather be anywhere else. Finally, I reach for their attention. “Let us begin.” A few youths quiet down. Now it’s the attention seekers who continue yammering.

I could continue to wait until they’re all ready. But today, I am impatient and not willing to let the few disrespect those who are attentive. “You may leave if you don’t wish to be here. I’m not holding you back. But for those who are actually waiting to learn, please be respectful.” 

Now is my time.

Act II: Why Teaching is Improv

Teaching is not just a script. It requires improvisation with students when they have certain questions, hopefully pertaining to the subject. The lecture — no! The lesson itself! — is a living and breathing subject. Even if I have notes and plans on what I want to talk about, it shifts as I delve into the topic at hand.

Fresh from vacation, the students are excitable and talkative. They haven’t seen one another in two weeks. My presence is hardly noticed. Despite several calls for attention, I have managed to corral just two kids. Yet, the show must go on. This is my first run of the new unit. I have my notes, but I expect trouble ahead, especially with this class. As I begin explaining our direction for the unit, questions abound. I make my first mistake: I answer them. The 25-minute lecture I had in mind takes 40 minutes.

The next day, a new class arrives. I am more comfortable with my notes and I avoid answering unnecessary questions. The students are familiar, having had time to settle back into the routine. This class feels interested in the subject, curious about small details I have not considered. The lecture does have some tangents to clarify certain matters, but by the end, the students have a clean sheet of notes and a better understanding (I expect) than their peers from the first class.

It should be noted that neither class is good nor bad. I improvised throughout both and met both success and failure. 

Act III: The Cost

Because teaching is improv, it is also an art form. Sure, there is science behind the methodology and the pedagogy.  Yet it’s the shifting landscape of the classroom that makes it an art. This can be a positive and a negative.

 I enjoyed theater as an actor and director. And improv theater is generally comedic; I use that method as often as possible to entertain and engage. That’s the positive. It can be fun to teach.

There’s also the negative part of it all.  Adaptations are required throughout the day, which can lead to mental fatigue, but it also makes the day exciting. Unfortunately, it cuts into my other creative passions. I feel exhausted, unable to accomplish much more when I’m off stage.

I choose this strategy even if it means fatigue.

On Avoiding Burnout