white on rice

Earlier this week, the need for ice cream therapy was all I could articulate in reference to Monday night's terrible class. After Thursday's class I had a revelation. 

Every Monday I leave class self-conscious and low. Isn't that sad? The material is great, the topic is super interesting. All of our discussions have held the potential for productive, engaging learning. Yet, I don't think we've had even one real discussion. None of us can say anything that isn't interrupted or responded to [at LENGTH] by the professor. The classroom just isn't a safe place. The professor is condescending and defensive, leading students to conduct themselves likewise. Its depressing and it comes down to facilitation.

My Thursday night professor? She couldn't be more opposite. Honestly, she could go an entire class speaking only in questions, spaced sparingly throughout the 4 hours, and we would still all leave full and invigorated. The class is truly inspiring. From the start, the prof established the space as safe. We've all committed to certain agreements, and when there is even a hint of someone pushing the boundary of full respect, the professor is on it like white on rice. We laugh together, we play a lot. Then, last night one exercise was so moving I was tearing up before I realized what had hit me.  Its good stuff, my friends. Good, powerful, transformative theatre work. Hallelujah.

My plan of action? I think I have some emails to write. Concerns to be confessed about my Monday night class. Praise to be shared to my Thursday night prof. And for the rest of the semester? My goal is to will myself through the self-consciousness, and let go of the defenses that creep up in all of us in that Monday night classroom.