Cycle of Salvation

A Child Saved by an Arts Teacher is Now an Arts Teacher

By Keelyn McDermott

The author at age 6 (photo courtesy of Keelyn McDermott)

This essay is part of the Stage Raw/Unusual Suspects Youth Journalism Fellowship

I have never in my life felt more child-like than now. I feel about 5 years old. Maybe 6.

I’ve just started work teaching elementary-aged children art before and after school. Everything for them is at the surface. Every emotional extreme. One child felt physically ill when a boy told her he wanted to kiss her. I had to get her water and help her take deep breaths. Another screamed and shot out of their chair when I said I liked their choice of color scheme on a project we were working on in class. Children have no defenses against feeling and that’s what makes them such incredible artists. They have endless repositories of emotion and energy, which translates to immense creative potential.

I’ve found that the lethal combination of anxiety over where my life is headed (post-grad) paired with being in love for the first time evokes a similar state of being within me. It’s incredibly vulnerable. I’m experiencing strong emotions at an alarming frequency and I feel that at any moment everything can go terribly wrong . . . or right. As a 6-year-old anew at work, I’m noticing things about school that just don’t sit right with me. The insistence of following instructions and the shame associated with the punishment that follows – oftentimes not because the child did something morally wrong, they just didn’t comply. It’s hard to incorrectly follow instructions in art class, luckily. Their finished piece doesn’t need to be twins with my example, not even cousins; But if they look to be in the same family, I am happy.

I am learning the importance of art class as an escape from the, “Do this!” and “Don’t do that!”’s that have made up their entire lifetimes until this point. It’s also a place where the expression of emotions normally reprimanded as swiftly as possible are instead celebrated. On Fun Fridays, Miss Keelyn (that’s me) gets to host Drama Club. At Drama Club, students get to be silly, loud, and wiggle about. They get to play games they want to play and sing songs they want to sing, (as long as there are no swear words). There are still rules, but a certain flexibility they don’t have at any other part of their day.

The author (“Miss Keelyn”) today (Photo courtesy of Keelyn McDermott

Along with being vulnerable, children are extremely impressionable. I oftentimes, call the children, “Girl!” regardless of gender, which, of course, prompts a quick correction from anyone who happens to not be a girl. A boy with long hair in class is frequently mistaken for a girl as well – but he does not correct his classmates. Others who know he is a boy do so for him. At such a young age, they’ve accepted gender norms and an almost extreme aversion for being mistaken as a girl. This, alongside the freedom from rules it provides, is why drama in schools is so important. Students are able to embody a variety of selves, which exemplifies to them the endless ways in which they may express themselves regardless of gender.

When I was actually 6, I remember scarfing down a slice of pizza when a hand latched down on my shoulder. “Is that how a lady eats?,” he said. “Take a bite, chew for five seconds, take a drink, and look around. Then, you may take another bite.” He does not demonstrate. He’s not a lady. He watches me take another bite, reminding me of the steps. “Oop – don’t go for another bite ‘til you’ve had a sip. Thank you. See? Very graceful.” As we who studied gender at a fancy liberal arts college may know, gender is performance. Little girls are not born playing with baby dolls, liking pink and wanting to be princesses. They are taught these behaviors, and while they may not be harmful now, in the constant project that is becoming “woman” they will learn more insidious things – like the need to chase perfection when desirability becomes social currency. Little boys don’t inherently like race cars and guns; They are taught to equate masculinity with stoicism and a capability to execute violence. I worry for these kids I’ve come to know and care about. But what I can do now is show them there are options through theater education.

In theater, students learn the diversity in self-expression as well as how to communicate and empathize with others. There’s a place for everyone in theater and room for students to explore other interests besides performing. Theater demands the involvement of all different kinds of art: visual art, dance, written, fabrication, lighting and sound. Students can find the way they feel most comfortable expressing themselves. They also learn to work in a tandem with all those different departments, who all think differently from one another. It teaches them to practice empathy – which is an imperative skill in character creation. From writing to acting to designing to lighting to choreographing a character, empathy for that character is required to properly represent them onstage. Improvisation is another aspect of theater  that promotes original thought, which is an important combatant to the biological predisposition to fit in or conform. All of these skills translate to real life, where students may use their theatre experience to see past stereotypes and accept their own brand of self-expression.

This, of course, is all reliant on our ability to promote arts education in schools with good teachers. Teachers who have these things in mind. Teachers like Deborah Dodaro – the theater teacher who changed my life for the better! My home life was not the greatest growing up. Without getting into details here are a couple hints: military family, Iraq, 2008, brain injury and divorce. As a third grader, I was deeply concerned with the same things I observed children are today – except I did the opposite of what they do. I did not rebel in minor ways but instead, I conformed to an extreme degree. I remember silently committing myself to being the most obedient I could so as to not add to any of the stressors my parents were experiencing. I did not raise my hand in class. If I was called on, I was too scared to answer incorrectly. My mom was actively working with my teacher to figure out how to combat these behaviors. Then – that new teacher, Deb Dar, (that’s what we called her) came to my now non-existent elementary school.

She gave a presentation on the production she was putting together for us, and invited all who wanted to participate to do so. I, surprisingly, asked my mother if I could audition. The play was called, Roxie the Recycling Robin. I played Vickie, the villain who hated trees. My sister was a frog. Deb Dar became aware of my self-doubting behavior beforehand through my mother and teacher. She saw what theater was doing for me and offered to put me in a class for teenagers at the local community theater – tuition-free since we couldn’t afford it. It was my access to a theater education via this one act of kindness and generosity by a qualified teacher that made me the person I am today. It was this instance that led to the writing of this article.

All this to say – a theater education guided by a wonderful teacher in childhood is invaluable, especially in this moment of profound apathy for our ideological “opponents.” Theater shapes better, more empathetic humans, which the world has always needed and seems to need more desperately than ever right now.