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Thursday, June 25, 2009

Just the Tip of the ICEBERG

Since the news broke this morning, I've been watching with growing consternation views floating for and against the new change proposed by Mr Kapil Sibal, Hon'ble Minister for the Ministry of Human Resource Development.
At the outset, it seems that Mr Sibal has his heart in the right place. That he finds it "unacceptable" to put children and parents through the stress of the Board Exams for Grade 10 makes him, in my view, one of the "good" guys. I say this based on instinct; most good cooks will tell you that instinct usually plays a much larger role in creating a tasty dish than a well-measured recipe. So, really, what Mr Sibal must now do is follow his instinct that something is really rotten in the state of education - and act upon that instinct to completely revamp it.

However, what needs to be voiced, and voiced VERY STRONGLY, is that the Grade 10 Board Exams (and the stress caused by them) represent only the TIP of an iceberg just waiting to sink our ship.

The Times Now newshour debate was fascinating, especially in the representation of students who held diametrically opposite views. The principals, teachers and others who marched through the debate (for once, no one tried to interrupt and drown out the others' voices - a refreshing change) ALL seemed to be missing the main point.

Education, as a system, is only one little cog in the general wheel of the country. It plays an important part (as the ministry's name reflects) where "human resource development" comes into play. What Mr Sibal Must Ask is: What do we want to achieve through the system of education?

Those who spoke against Mr Sibal's proposed move to scrap the Grade 10 Board Exams had basically two points: 1) It maintains national standards; 2) It helps in streaming students according to their talent/ability. One vociferous echo, of course, was "why shouldn't children go through a bit of stress"?

THAT, to my mind (after having worked in education for about 20 years now), is the defining statement of the current system. We deeply believe, as 21st century Indians, that stress is something children need to learn to cope with; therefore, the earlier they begin (someone cited that this starts as early as Grade 1) the better they will be able to cope with it.
To all the promoters and believers of this philosophy I would like to point out that the human brain takes a LONG time to develop. In fact, research shows that the human brain reaches complete maturity only by approximately the age of 25. One student of Grade 11 was more accurate than all the grown-ups when she said that students of age 17 are better able to cope with stress than students of age 15. This is because the human brain is not just about cognitive ability. Emotional maturity (including stress-management) comes in as we mature and age and often this process goes on throughout life.

Another speaker spoke about E.Q. and was questioned by another whether I.Q. and E.Q. could exist separately.
They are no doubt better equipped to comment on these. What we need to keep in mind is that E.Q. is a scarcely understood term; it is usually bandied about by more progressive educators in order to be allowed to throw some parts of an unjustified curricular load out of the window.

Let us return to the main point then: What do we want to achieve through the system of education?
Every society, country, community, defines its goals and objectives and then designs its education system.
We are, in spite of 62 years of freedom, and many commissions and omissions later, still struggling to define the philosophy and objectives of our society. We talk about "competition", "equal platforms", "standard evaluation processes", and my favourite "core subjects" - without really having the long-term goals in mind.
Mr Sibal must ask whether in our rapidly changing world "competition" is more relevant than "cooperation".
He must ask whether the little guy in Teekli Village can really be on an equal platform as his more privileged compatriot in the school on top of the hill.
Having asked this, he must further question the whole idea of standards in evaluation; he must question very strongly what is being evaluated at all.
And finally, he must really think about the race for marks in the "core subjects" - and ask profoundly why there is such a rat race for some subjects and no rush in others.
In short, he must question the very foundations of the system that is no less than a serial killer.

As an educator, I have watched this system fail no less than 16,000 times in the last three years (a Times Now statistic). Indeed, I am lucky that I did not know any of these children who were killed by the Board Exams. But I have not slept easy knowing that I too am part of the system that killed them.
Somewhere, this "elimination" stinks of "Social Darwinism" (as described by Dr Krishna Kumar): all those who can, cope; those who can't...

Addressing the tip of the iceberg, Mr Sibal, is a good beginning. A great beginning. It gives someone like me hope that the rot can and will be exposed. And once exposed, we will have no option but to clean it up. I know that there are many like me just waiting for the opportunity to help revolutionize the system.

It is my observation that there are two circumstances that facilitate learning: 1) if the learner is involved and having a LOT of fun; 2) if the learner's survival depends on it.
Being products, usually, of fun-less learning environments, as educators it requires a great deal of effort to facilitate fun-based learning. So, we tie our children down in various knots which they must unravel in order to survive - we tell them that the be-all and end-all of their curricular efforts lie in the year-end exam. Dry rot in the foundation: teachers' attitudes to the teaching-learning process. The lack of awareness of alternatives. The lack of training to help children to be life-long learners. Deeply embedded convictions that are by now out-dated. And the readily available carrot-and-stick of the Board Exams.
So, some survive, some do really well; others, quite literally, perish. And that's 16,000 deaths too many. Even a country as over-populated as ours must never allow the death of a child to go unquestioned. We are, as a species, supposed to "look after" our young. As a community we must not become desensitized to the extent of not feeling great outrage each time a child takes his/her life - this is an appeal to the pro-stress corps: I'm quite certain that no one who has actually lost a child or a student in this manner will ever take up the "a little stress will train them" cause.

If we are to help children prepare for the future, we must keep one very important fact in mind: by the time the current batch of primary school children become old enough to seek jobs, many careers will have ceased to exist, and as many new career options will have emerged. What they need to know is how to learn quickly, without stress, and explore new areas with open minds.

So, please don't stop here, Mr Sibal. By all means, scrap the Grade 10 Board Exams, centralize all the Grade 12 exams, and bring everyone onto a "level playing field". But that alone is not going to cure the rot. Changing marks to grades, percentages to percentiles, scrapping some and centralizing others may only replace the old flawed system with a new, flawed, one. We have a real chance to turn our country around by helping to bring up our children to be happy, healthy, kind-hearted individuals who learn because they want to, not in order to score marks or grades.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

A Thorn In My Shoe

When I sat down to click-clack this one into the laptop, I seriously had a serious story in mind. But as I approached the desk, it turned itself on its head (as often happens), and now I'm laughing at myself.

But I jump the gun. Let me tell you about the thorn in my shoe.

Several weeks ago, on one of our Saturday morning romps on the Aravalis around PWS, I picked up a thorn in my left shoe. Well, actually, it wasn't the only one... There were many even thicker, longer, stronger and pokier (? - I've run out of epithets) than this one. What set it apart, was... its tenacity, I guess you could call it that. My eye-brow plucking device took care of all the rest - we had quite a collection - but somehow, this one just WOULDN'T come out. (For the hyper-hygiene conscious, I have two eye-brow plucking devices, one dedicated to pulling thorns out of my shoes. I mention this insignificant fact since I know that the hyper... will have stopped to regurgitate dinner, etc. during the previous sentence.)

So, not being all that persevering a thorn-puller-out (in any case the kids were becoming impatient) I left that persistent and tenacious thorn in.

Most of the time, I wasn't even aware of it. However, the second I would step on a stone, or a bump on the track, it would poke. (Did you know that most of our nerve endings are centred on the soles of our feet? Well, I found out, and how!). The place where it poked was the tender spot between my big toe and the next one, let's say half-an-inch south of that. OUCH! It would not only send shooting pain up my leg, but frissons down my spine as well (remember, nerve endings) and be partially debilitating for about 10 to 15 seconds each time. And time, as the scientist said, is relative. It seemed like HOURS!

This happened over a period of several weeks. By the time I got home on each occasion, I was too tired to have another go at it. And the next time I went out, there were always two impatient kids to contend with. Since I have quite a shoe-wardrobe a la Imelda Marcos (does anyone remember her?) it didn't hamper daily life beyond the fitness-freaking episodes.

OK. Finally, after one really painful event in the gym, I decided that it was either me or the thorn. Equipped with the Device, I planted myself squarely on the edge of the bed, told the kids to keep an arm's distance for all hell would shortly break loose, and had another go at it. As they looked on suspiciously, I tugged, pulled, pushed (got pricked on my finger), groaned, grunted and was generally being the roaring-Leo-rattled-by-a-thorn. But, Tenacity! It perversely hung on to the rubber, refusing to budge more than a millimetre at a time in either direction, not enough to give me enough purchase to tug it out.

Brainwave. It you can't pull it out, push it out. Now equipped with another device - a handy tool the nailclippers, there's a curvy attachment that otherwise opens bottles of various types (and no, I don't have two of those) - I pushed the dratted object INTO my shoe, pulling it inwards till... phew, it was out of the rubber.

A closer look revealed that I had pulled out worse ones in the past few weeks. But, and here it comes (the serious story), while I was engaging in battle with this thorn, a plethora of thoughts passed through the top bracket. Or rather, questions.

How often do I allow situations like this to exist - i.e. (for the innocent or the uninitiated) allow metaphorical thorns which periodically poke and hurt like the dickens - not dealing with them, somehow not even hoping that they will go away on their own, but just not dealing with them...
Once it was out, I pranced out of the house, such utter relief in the soles of my feet (OK, won't go into the winged feet metaphor). Actually, you need to go through this to know how very painful it is - and I have a very high pain-threshold.

That evening, the walk proved to be meditative... a mental list was made of all that I wasn't dealing with... they popped up out of hidden recesses almost like thought-bubbles in comic strips.
The very next morning, I set out and dealt with two such situations.
Life was looking more thorn-free.
So, now, why am I laughing at myself?

Good question. Because, as the intelligent will point out, isn't this the case with so many of us?
What makes me laugh (and those who know me, know how loudly I laugh) at myself, is that these metaphorical thorns were illusions caused by various perceptions... They weren't really thorns at all. Just mental constructs that made them appear to be painful. Remove the foundation, and they were just.... air?

For weeks I've been grieving over a remark made by someone in utter ignorance...
For days I've been scribing about my work - as an outlet for the pain caused by the above remark...
For hours I've debated on whether or not to write an email about the remark to various authorities...
For eons I've wanted to shout out really loudly that what I do in class has intrinsic value and that I don't need to "showcase" it...
For pages of my blog I've been ranting about how process-drama works...

SO, the cardinal sin - taking myself too seriously - had been committed. But luckily, all sins are washed away when you laugh at yourself.

By the way, is there a type of meditation called laughing meditation? If not, someone should invent it. It really works!

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Learning Through Drama

Or, How Grade 8x made sense of history… and what they learnt about RACISM
Drama as a process? Process for what, you might ask…
In the second semester, Grade 8x devised a play called “All For A Master Race”. This was based on Hitler’s well-propagated theory of the Aryan Master Race which he used to “exterminate” Jews in Europe, turning thousands of reasonably well-balanced individuals into anti-Semitic fanatics.
Here is the storyboard of the play:

Scene 1
Bar: An Aryan-Jewish couple (Ancel and Margaret) and their Jewish friends are sitting around the radio listening to Hitler’s speech about the master race. Margaret is scared, Ancel is reassuring – he promises to get her out of this situation safely. Adelheida, who sits at the bar, looks very scared.
Scene 2
Adelheida’s house: Adelheida disguises herself as an Aryan by dyeing her hair and using contact lenses to change her identity – she’s helped by her friend Margaret.
Scene 3
Bar: while listening to the radio German soldiers, including Adelheida, kill the Aryan-Jewish couple; freeze moment when Adelheida speaks her mind (inner conflict) about killing them, but goes ahead in order to save her own life.
Scene 4
Jewish house: Jews plan to revolt against Hitler and form a resistance group. One of them, Aaron, is clearly unhappy with the whole idea and tries to persuade everyone to plan an escape instead of a confrontation.
Scene 5
German army office: all the soldiers report that they have come to know about the Jewish Resistance movement; Aaron, the unhappy Jew comes in and betrays the resistance and tells the German soldiers about where they are hiding; Adelheida is there and slips out while the soldiers surround Aaron.
Scene 6
Jewish house: members of the Resistance are taking their places for an ambush; Adelheida arrives and tells them they have been betrayed; at first they don’t believe her, but anyway she’s too late as the German soldiers come in and there’s a shoot-out; Adelheida switches sides and fights alongside the Jews, is shot, all the other Jews die except one little boy; all the soldiers go away except General Himmler, who finds the little boy, David, who asks him why he is killing everyone – and is suddenly faced by the question, “Why am I killing the Jews?” As he struggles with his conscience, the lights fade out, leaving the audience with the question – will he or won’t he?


Needless to say, the story was entirely thought up by the students. Three students took on the responsibility (without being required to do so) of writing a script. Each child in the class had an on-stage role and a back-stage responsibility.
After the final performance, the students took an exam in which they were asked to respond to two questions:
A. What, according to you, was the central message of your play, “All for a Master Race”? To what extent do you think you managed to convey the message and why?
B. Imagine that you were the scriptwriter for your play – how would you improve and strengthen the message of your play (you may increase/decrease scenes and lines in any part of the play)?
The responses to the first part of question A were really to gauge what each one had learnt from the experience of devising and performing the play. They were told that there were no “right” or “wrong” answers for any part of the question; that they needed to analyze their play and present their own points of view.
Here are the responses: (the character each student played is mentioned, in case anyone can spot a correlation between the part played and the “message” each one took away from the experience)
General Himmler: German soldiers killed Jews on Hitler’s orders without knowing or understanding why, for no reason.
Ancel (the Aryan husband): Loss and gain. Everyone loses something or the other, and therefore gains importance.
Margaret (the Jewish wife): No matter how many mistakes and wrong decisions you make, it’s never too late to say sorry and realize your mistake.
Jan (a German soldier): 1) Realisation in a German general, brought on by a Jewish child, that he was killing people who had never harmed him. 2) Disguising herself as an Aryan, Adelheida tried to become “white” but in her heart, her race and her blood remained the same.
David (a Jewish child): Many Jews struggled and even died just because of the “master race”.
Georges Faruk (a journalist): Just be who you really are…
Frederik (a German soldier): There should not be such laws of marriage that Jews cannot marry Aryans.
Rabia (a Jewish woman): …to show the audience a flashback of the past, a detailed history about Hitler… We made the audience think about what would happen to the little child, David, in the end.
Erica (a Jewish woman, leader of the resistance): It is better to stand up for what you believe in than to hide away forever.
Marcus (a Jewish man): 1) …to what extent can you go, just to survive… 2) Forgiveness can help you.
Aarick (a German soldier): Will it be the end of the Jews?
Aaron (a Jewish man, betrays the Jewish resistance): The general, who could not decide whether or not to kill the Jewish child…
Sylvester (a German soldier): … not to kill people; why should innocent people die…
Leona (a Jewish woman who had lost her husband): I wanted the audience to realize how lucky they are to have a life such as theirs – look at how people suffered at that time.
Yara (a German soldier): Betrayal will only lead to hell.
Adelheida (a Jewish woman): 1) The problem of fitting in, an international problem that exists today – in high school, how you want to fit in so badly that you will do anything, leading to drugs, alcohol, even death. 2) “Be yourself” – how we all strive to be something we are not but eventually your true colours shine through.

And now for my analyses:
In the context of racism spreading like wildfire (almost as rapidly as the H1N1 Virus), here is a group of students (13-year-olds) that has experienced, in carefully controlled circumstances, what racism, prejudice and discrimination can do to individual human beings.
They have researched and represented a chunk of history, and made sense of human motivations – delving into extremes like betrayal, courage and mindless killing. Again, this was done in carefully controlled circumstances.
In creating an original play, they have gone deep into their own consciousness to find the seeds of all that they portrayed – from heroism, friendship, and betrayal to internal conflict and turmoil. And, in doing so, they have met their own strengths and weaknesses and have more self-awareness now than when they began.
And finally, without a breath of hesitation, I can say with great confidence that these seventeen children have learnt the lessons offered by this part of history.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Democracy and Teamwork - at the grass roots

In an earlier post I asked, "So, how do we make a case for drama as a process?"
While we mull over this question, some details about how one particular semester was structured for drama.
This year, my students spent the entire second semester devising original full-class plays. The different grade levels dealt with different topics (Grade 6 had "bullying", Grade 7 worked with the Renaissance, and Grade 8 took up the early 20th Century). Here is the process they went through:
First there was research (as in-depth as possible for that grade level with scope for those who were really interested to go deeper) followed by improvisations in groups on what fascinated them. Expected learning outcomes: that the children would independently research a topic; that they would share what fascinated them with a small group of peers thereby creating ownership of the work; that they would then translate these thoughts into an original piece of drama to be performed for the other groups, thereby honing all the skills of devising and performance.

Then came a process called "synthesis" in which fresh groups were made and all groups were asked to prepare improvised pieces combining all the previous "stories" that had been performed. The students needed some side-coaching during this exercise as combining different elements into one coherent story can sometimes be challenging. Expected learning outcomes: re-grouping leads to children being exposed to different working styles; children are exposed to a creative process - combining different elements or "synthesis"; teamwork and emerging leadership skills are honed; all the skills related to devising and performance.
(You may notice that the children performed twice during steps 1 and 2 of the process. And after each group's performance, the other groups gave the actors feedback on their performance as well as plot line and story. Expected learning outcomes: giving feedback responsibly and accepting feedback with an open mind and growing from it.)
The next step was to elevate the level of group-work from small groups (four to five children in each) to full-class group-work (between 16 and 22 depending on class strength). Different classes responded differently to this. Some were happy to ideate verbally, while others were more motivated while they improvised. The task set for them (and assessed for involvement at every stage) was to combine all the elements from steps 1 and 2 and create one full-class story. They were given the leeway to sift and select as well as add to the original elements.
On large sheets of flip-chart paper, a "plot graph" was drawn and handed over to the class. No one was chosen to be the leader - but someone was expected to take the leadership. Responsible leadership. That really means that everyone was to be involved, by encouragement from whoever took on the leadership. At different stages of this process, feedback was given to each child on the quality of his/her contribution (dominating or inclusive; passivity or active listening, etc.) and often asked to evaluate this as well. Therefore there was also responsible team-work. Then, of course, the creative process: in this the children learnt how to introduce conflict, tension, sustain it, and allow it to reach a peak before gradually resolving it. There was a lot of side-coaching required for this part, as even Grade 8 students were often at a loss about how to take the story forward without completely destroying it. The creative skills to be learnt during this stage don't need enumeration.
Often, during this part of the process, the children returned to their research, or looked for more information to bring authenticity into their story. Questions like, "Did contact lenses exist in the 1940s?" and "What sort of music would have played at a bar in 1929 in Berlin?" or "What percentage of bullies go on to become criminals?" came up from the groups. Research skills. Inquiry-based learning. All of this happened completely naturally.
When the story was about half-done, back-stage responsibilities were chosen by each child. This ranged from costumes, sets, props, lights, sound, publicity and stage management. EVERY child had to choose one. Why? Ask any of the students and they will explain that drama is not just acting on stage. That acting on stage is a very small part of what drama is all about.
After picking one (some adventurous children picked more than one), it was more time at the drawing board - researching the period for costumes, sets and props; learning about lights; writing drafts for posters and brochures. Many drafts were made - for every aspect - and children came to discuss them, improve upon them and final begin to create them. Needless to say, each child had an individual approach - some caught me at dinner to show their drafts while others required some chasing!
The plot graphs were finally ready. Along the way, many scenes had already been improvised ("Will it work or won't it?"), so each child already knew the performing capability of each other. So, onto casting. We made a list of characters, and each role was cast in a truly democratic way - through voting! That's democracy at the grass roots! Seriously, what better way is there to teach the concept of democracy - we have the roles, we have the candidates - and we choose the BEST POSSIBLE candidate for each role. Because, if we don't, OUR play will not be performed to its logical potential.
Onto blocking each scene, looking into the logical flow of the story from scene to scene, as well as amending the plot line to make it smooth and seamless. All the grade 8 classes scripted their plays, and polished them after receiving feedback. Interestingly, they did this even though they were not required to... So, what they had earlier found a drag ("Oh, ma'am, why do we have to WRITE in drama?") was a skill learnt so well that they recognised its importance without being told.
Expected learning outcomes: that children will not only devise the on-stage performance, but design the entire production through hands-on work; that the final performance would be a an act of collective creation - building something quite literally out of nothing; and in doing so, have ready-made models of WORKING TOGETHER CREATIVELY that can be used for any other subject EITHER IN SCHOOL or later in life no matter what they choose to do in life.

Does this sound like a useful set of skills?
I would like to share an interesting statistic about performance-based drama which may raise further questions on who really wants children to participate in public performances. All the children began working on the year-end production in January, worked through February, part of March and April, finally performing in the first week of May. ONLY ONE CLASS (out of my eight classes) asked for an audience. All the others were happy to just have their performances recorded on tape, and invited about two or three people to watch it. Some were very clear about NOT wanting an audience at all.
What does this tell us about performance-based drama? Was the experience any less rich for the children in the absence of an audience? Or, would it have been qualitatively any different had they performed for others?

Friday, May 22, 2009

Perspectives on Drama, Or, How to Solve Global Problems Through Drama

This one is on Process-based Drama vs Performance-based Drama
Repeatedly we hear, "Isn't drama about performance?" By this, what most people mean is "public performance", so when I respond with, "Yes, sure, my students perform in almost every lesson that we have," I get a wondering look. I can almost hear their thoughts: "Sure, they perform in my classes too - so what's so special about drama lessons?"
Obviously, this is no one's fault. We are, at the end of the day, products of our experiences; and most people of our generation have never had the opportunity to study drama as a process-based subject.
So, what is the process and why is it important to help others, especially fellow teachers, to understand (and if possible) use it?
The term “drama therapy” is not alien to most of us. However, few people have either been through it or know what it can really do for us.
Imagine a room full of people who are meeting for the first time and have been given a near-impossible task; let’s give them a really big task – say, save the world from global warming. Let’s, in fact, raise the stakes and say that they have 24 hours in which to do this.
What do you think they should do first of all?
Beginning making plans to save the planet? Well, if there are 10 people, they are likely to have 10 distinct plans which they really believe is the only way to go about the task. Furthermore, they are more than likely to completely disagree with each others’ views.
What are the possible scenarios that could emerge?
First, Mr Stern Regulatory Measures would get into an argument with Ms Free-Market Economy. Then, conflict would break out between Mr Long-term Measures and Ms Short-term Gains. Somewhere in another corner of the room, Ms Reduce Reuse Recyle would be seen trying to cajole Mr Progress Before All into considering the benefits of shutting down polluting industries. And of course, there would be an endless debate in progress between Mr Third-World Nation and Mr Capitalism. Needless to say, Ms Socialist would not agree with Ms Enterprise.
Let us introduce a drama facilitator into this room. I choose the term “facilitator” as opposed to “teacher” after careful thought. The reasons for this will, hopefully, become clear without obvious explanations.
The very first thing Mr Drama Facilitator is likely to do is … you guessed it… organize everyone into a “warm up” exercise. He would probably choose one that was heavy on the “bonding” bit, perhaps with a peppering of “mental and physical alertness”. So, how does a “warm up” help you bond with someone else? The aims of the game itself are likely to help you forget your own distinct personality, subsume it to accommodate the needs of the game, and add a large dose of FUN. Someone said, “The team that plays together, stays together,” and they didn’t mean the Indian cricket team.


Monday, May 18, 2009

How Children Evaluate Themselves

Sometimes, as an exercise in self-evaluation, I ask the students of my class to mark their work on a scale of 1 to 10. (This is different from those times when I provide them with a rubric to guide them.) I might give them a very general direction like, "How involved were you? How much did you contribute to the rehearsal?" etc. Before they tell me their evaluation of themselves, I put down a mark on 1 to 10.

More often than not, students mark their work lower than I have.

Is this because they are modest or because they are far more critical of their own work than other people?

A recent self-evaluation had a Grade 6 student give herself an "E" because, according to her written explanation, she was "confused inside (her) head" when she went on stage. None of this confusion showed, of course, and I replayed the performance tape to check if it did. What was really interesting was that she did not comment on her greatly improved voice projection (and give herself a high grade for that) - she chose to be self-critical to the point of awarding herself the failing grade.

Is she the exception to the rule?

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Drama in School is So Misunderstood

Consistently misunderstood, the scope of drama stretches so much further than stage performances.

When we begin each year, the first thing we do is create a great team. We meet the children for about an hour a week, and more than half the time is spent helping them bond with each other, understand in which ways they are different and the many ways in which they are all similar. By the end of the semester, after two or three classroom performances, they are ready to see each others' perspectives.

Another semester later, they are so well bonded that (usually) the year-end performance only serves to bring them very close.

What do they learn through the whole process of Drama?

  • Working together - as a team: filling in for each others' weak spots, and appreciating, even celebrating, the strengths
  • Discovering their own strengths
  • Leading groups - and being able to experience the joys and challenges of being at the helm
  • Creating something meaningful, often out of nothing more than stray thoughts

And yet, unless there are PUBLIC performances, people outside the drama department feel that we are "doing nothing".

After putting one's heart and soul into making learning meaningful for children - that sort of perception has the power to hurt, and it has the absolute power to hurt absolutely! So much that drama teachers the world over (I'm willing to bet I'm not the only person who has gone through this) probably sacrifice "process" for "performance".

In the final analysis, though, the children stand to lose.

So many of them will not take up any aspect of drama as a career. But what they learn through the process is definitely likely to make them successful in any work they take up; at the very least, the self-awareness that is inherent in a process-based programme will help children become "happy" adults.

So, how do we make a case for drama as a process?