Dwelling in Possibility: Lauren Lanker

Wednesday, June 29th

Daniel beats the drum. He is one of the smallest in our class, one of the quietest, but his hands pounds the drum with a lion’s ferocity. The rolling rhythms welcome us when our van bounces in each day and bid us farewell at the end of our teaching days. Our students are always at play. They are actors through and through.

We have been teaching for four days now. Abby and I work with Form III students at Nkoanrua Secondary School who range from age 14-18, all new to ITLP and soaking up every moment along with us. We spend our days together flexing our bodies and voices, awakening the imagination, and playing games that bolster creativity and concentration; we dredge for stories through writing and poetry prompts, on a quest for individual voice and not an examination essay. We learn to articulate ourselves more clearly to our students, using our bodies more and superfluous words less. Overcoming the language barrier has been one of our greatest struggles, but after four days we note progress.

These have been our days of exploration and now, Abby and I sift through the work and “ah-ha”s of the past four days to begin shaping our play. Here are a patchwork of just a few of the moments strewn before us:

The beating of a drum, sending bodies in motion.
A magic scarf that can turn into ANYTHING: a crying child, a mango tree ripe for the picking, the dress of Miss Tanzania.
A car rolling in slow motion, its parts made up of 10 people.
A museum of sculptures that morph and change into new stories with each clicking of the clave.
A character named Strong Tom, created from an image from National Geographic. He is a researcher who survives a wrestling match with a snake in the “colorless” water (according to Baracka).
A flock of students soaring in unison to “Just Dance” by Lady Gaga.
A line from Jackeline’s journal: “I worry about a day I will become an old woman.”

Somewhere in here lies a play, waiting to be uncovered, discovered, made. Or rather, there are 1,000 plays, and it’s just a matter of plugging in coordinates and setting sail--selecting one thread from the back of the quilt and following it. We aspire to do our students justice and to help shape the story they are already telling us in their wide eyes, heartfelt stories, laughter, dances, and chants. Also, we are aware of the delicate balance of beckoning them to new possibilities in theatre while honoring what is important to them. It must be their play, and it must push them beyond what’s comfortable.

So, here we are: “dwelling in possibility....” Marilyn Chandler McEntyre uses this phrase in her book, Caring for Words in a Culture of Lies, to describe the feeling of being taken into a story--and it’s exactly how I feel, being taken into the stories of the 20 students of Form III.

Although the possibilities are endless, one thing I know for sure: our play MUST include Daniel’s drumming.