Our seventh graders are probably not more danger-prone than any other group of adolescents, nor are they especially prone to deception. Nonetheless, a visitor to their drama classes this week might be concerned about their safety…or their ability to tell convincing lies.
Actor John Hurt, in a 2009 essay for The Guardian, discussed the idea of truth in this way:
The fact is that truth is everything to do with humanity, because it is humanity who invented it, and without humanity there would be no such word. And your job as an actor is to somehow convey that truth to the audience. If an audience doesn’t believe me, I’ve no right to be there. In order to get them to believe me I have to have some understanding of what that word, truth, means.
Julian Schlusberg’s teaching reflects these same sentiments. Julian explains that an important factor in an actor’s effectiveness is the ability to be believable–to convince the audience that the actions and emotions on stage are true, at least in a dramatic context. Last week, Julian told two stories from his childhood. One was about a possible UFO encounter; the other was about an experience at summer camp. He challenged the students to identify the falsehood by looking for inconsistencies, asking for details, and observing his body language. He then instructed the students to develop their own short narratives to present to their peers.
Wednesday’s class began with small clusters of students practicing their storytelling skills. In each group, one person was selected to tell a false story. The others prepared to relate true events from their own lives. As each speaker rehearsed, the rest of the team offered suggestions and pose questions. “Wait, should I say that?” a girl asked. “Does it sound better if I say it the other way?”
After everyone had a chance to review and prepare, the groups took turns at the front of the theater, facing their classmates. Four girls formed the first panel and told about the time that a bat flew into someone’s window, the day a skylight collapsed, a frightening fall through a hole in the floor, and an injury from a rusty nail. Who was telling the truth? Whose story was a fabrication? The audience grilled the storytellers, focusing on precision of detail, possible contradictions, and facial expressions. Then they voted–incorrectly. Julian praised the narrators, commenting that the stories were equally plausible, and that the fictitious episode was presented authentically, in the way that a good actor believes her own role.
Three more panels presented their stories. In each case, the audience was unsure which student had shared a false memory, despite their efforts to unearth the truth. Amidst laughter and lighthearted teasing, students observed each other carefully and listened intently. “You said you didn’t remember it, but now you do?” asked one budding prosecutor. Audience members visualized the scenes that their classmates described, then asked probing questions to uncover lapses. “Where was your sister?” “How long were you locked in the basement?” “Did you fall feet-first?” Speakers were asked to review sequences, describe minutia, and critiqued for smirking or appearing hesitant.
In addition to the lively and important lesson in drama that these students learned, another truth was evident throughout the class: our students are comfortable with themselves and in front of an audience. The capacity to be fully present and in command while speaking in public is an essential attribute that is on full display at Foote, and the drama program is an integral aspect of building our students’ confidence.
Lauren Goldberg is Foote's Curriculum Coordinator.