Diary of the Zoom Performing Arts Teacher
“ I can’t hear you…you’re muted sweetie – can you unmute yourself – oh no I’ve done it – no you’ve muted yourself again – stop pressing the button!”
“Yes, I know I’ve frozen, I can still hear you…can you hear me?”
“Sarah,* let’s see your dance…Sarah, I can only see the top of your head…can you move the screen? That’s your foot, is that your foot?!! Anyway that’s a lovely dance, good effort.”
“Ben. Ben! Ben!!! Please stop rolling toy cars toward the screen.”
“Amy, keep the iPad still as we’re all feeling seasick…”
“OK. Everybody 5,6,7,8…”
“MIAOW!!”
My foot connects with the cat, which has decided to sleep on the rug regardless of the ongoing dance routine. “It’s ok everyone, just the cat. Again…” I remove the cat, which stares at me maliciously, and continue…
“We’ve only got 10 minutes,” shrieks the class as the warning flashes up to obliterate the whole screen at a critical moment in Sophie’s epic monologue…
“I know,” I think, “thank you”!
The last five months have been a learning curve. In February, I had never heard of Zoom. We paused classes on the 17th March and by the 24th we were online, using an alien form of teaching that’s now ‘the norm’. I can’t complain. Many businesses haven’t been able to transition as easily. But though we are still here it seems so remote from what we are used to. Going from teaching 25 kids in two hour classes to 10, or sometimes 3, for 30 minutes seems crazy and surprisingly exhausting.
Saturday classes returned with the opening of schools and the realisation that, where once parents would think nothing of sending their four year old to a 60 minute weekday class at 4pm, after a day locked in the house with them, 4pm was now bordering on bedtime and the desperately needed wine o’clock. Back to Saturdays we went and oh my god, how did I ever do them?
I would be at my venue for 8.15am, teach solidly until 1pm, then often off to a singing gig or costumed up for a kids party. Now I roll out of bed, slide down the stairs and am in front of the screen with a coffee by 10am. 30 minutes later, after dancing round the living room pretending I’m a seagull/pirate/jellyfish (and not insane, as my neighbours stare at me through the window), I need to go and lie down in a dark room. I’ve never felt so tired! The move to teaching Performing Arts online is immense. Everything we stand for: social skills, trust, teamwork, touch – one of the most critical senses a human possesses and craves – all ‘virtually’ impossible.
One thing I have noticed however is that confidence building, in the seven years plus age group, is something Zoom seems to be quite good at. Of the small but loyal band of children that have continued classes online, most are those that, in face to face classes, are rarely seen and even more rarely heard. Students whose timidness previously stopped them speaking up have suddenly found a voice, and how wonderful their voices are! I have a drama class of self-confessed ‘shy kids’ and we have a fantastic time. They have explored Shakespeare, created reality TV characters which have had me in hysterics with their improvised confrontations and they’ve approached script work in the most inventive and fearless ways. It’s as if the screen adds a dimension of safety that a normal class cannot. And it is crazy, as the reason I feel so tired teaching on Zoom is the feeling of permanent scrutiny, from the kids and from parents, who we normally ask to leave, but now have to stay, for the younger classes at least.
I can’t wait to see what the future will bring for these new bloomers as we slowly return to the world of ‘normal’ classes. My hope is they will continue to revel in their newly found confidence and realise that in the real world, the stage and its fourth wall is another version of a screen, but with so much more magic and potential. Who knows, maybe Covid will give us a generation of Lockdown Luvvies?
Returning in general is the goal. But while Zoom can never replace the atmosphere of a live class, full of over exuberant kids, the mute function will forever have a place in my heart….
“I’m just going to mute you all….”
* all names changed
