Bravery

Seventy-five high school drama students in a small theatre. Sandwiched between their early morning technical rehearsal and their afternoon run-through, I had the privelege to deliver a two-hour workshop on Voice. Some of them definitely did not want to be there. Some maintained a steely concentration that allowed them to focus on the material for their own benefit, others went through the motions because that's what they "should" do, and still others were much too pre-occupied by the woman or man standing in front of them. The challenge of being heard was multi-layered. Physically the task of enabling them to hear my voice, was a challenge to say the least, then the idea of communicating a message was an even greater challenge. To allow them to move through their own fears of being embarrassed, doing something different, trying a new way of relating that may not be be deemed "cool" was a mighty endeavor. I encouraged them to participate, bravely, and speak from their hearts.

This morning a faculty member was experimenting with gesture. "I'm not good at that." she stated. The rest of the class refuted her claim. "Yes, you are, you just did it!" And she had.

At night, in the few moments between doing dishes and preparing for the next day, I pick up "Reading Lolita in Tehran" by Azar Nafisi. Nafisi asks her students how novels can relate and inform their lives. I ask myself how this book can relate to my life. It is teaching me bravery and passion around my profession. To allow myself to believe in the transfomative power of voice work, even in it's smallest gesture.

At the end of the workshop for the high school students, a young man with pale blond hair and a red toque came up to me and gave me a hug. "Where did you learn all that?" he asked. He had been brave and spoken from his heart in front of the group. Somehow, despite the noise, I had been heard.