Bringing Writing to Life:
Creative Collaboration Through Drama

Carol Collins
Clemson University
Clemson, SC

Debra Cox
Code Elementary School
Seneca, SC

1986. Crowded classroom. Curiosity on 10th-grade faces. Some wary. Some even belligerent. I was a stranger to them. They only knew I was there to do "some kind of drama stuff." They didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to expect.

Although for years I had integrated drama into classroom learning goals, I had never directly linked drama with writing and editing. This was a testing ground. This was new to me. I had questions, questions. Would this work? Would the connections be helpful and worthy? In past classrooms, our other drama integration activities had found some remarkable results. Avid participation. Sharing ideas freely. Taking risks. Having fun with learning. Higher retention levels. Better communication and transference skills. Even higher test scores in language arts. But, what about drama with writing?

After we did some warm-ups that illustrated character and setting description, more eager faces joined the scenario. Except for Jeff. He sat in the last row, the last desk, leaning on his elbows, cupping his head in his hands . Blank stare. He watched. That was okay. I wouldn't reach everyone. I wasn't even sure what I was doing. and I knew that forcing participation would only isolate him more. So I continued.

We broke into groups so that each team could design an improvisation based on the same two specific characters and a problem. Teams would determine setting, action sequence, and how to communicate reactions to the problem. Three teams performed, showing us the problem clearly and a little of how each character faced the problem. We weren't sure, however, how to describe all the characters. The last team—Jeff's team—performed. They chose pantomime to show all action. No one spoke. Jeff remained in his desk while the others performed around him. Discussing the scene, we weren't sure how to identify the characters. So. After all improvisations, we still needed work and discussion on character description: How to portray more than just "doctor" or "gardener"; how to show feelings, goals, desires, needs, inner personalities and motivations.

To help get these points across in our discussion of what we had gleaned from the improvisations, I showed the class an abstract picture of a woman painted by Picasso. I urged, "Tell me about this woman." The class gave me the basics only: "She's wearing blue. She has on a long dress. Her hair is weird."

So I asked, "What is she feeling?" I got three responses: "Maybe sad. I don't know. She's crazy." As I was trying to figure out how to phrase a question to get more substantive comments than these, Jeff said, "She thinks and acts more with her head than her heart."

All heads turned to Jeff. I was thrilled. The whole class stared at him, realizing that this was a provocative comment. I could also tell that the class wasn't used to hearing Jeff offer many comments.

I said, "That's marvelous. I love that. How did you get that?"

He explained that her head was in a box, separated from the rest of her body. It wasn't connected to her heart. The lines forming the box were strong and black. That's where she thinks. Not with her heart. He added, "The rest of her body is hazy, flowing, not real defined. She'd like to get in touch with her heart, but her head gets in the way."

I was almost speechless. This was an incredible interpretation of character. Without raving too much about this wonderful insight, I used Jeff's example to get more responses from the class about layers of character, how we can discover more about what makes each character tick by using drama. Then, we could transfer the discoveries onto paper, adding dialogue, description, detail, insight.

I looked at Jeff. He was actually beaming. We broke into groups again. I asked them to add three lines of dialogue to their previously performed scenes that would show us (I emphasized "show") more about how the character is feeling. The only rule was that the characters could not state how they felt. Their actions and their dialogue had to do all the communication.

As the groups planned, I heard more animation in their voices. I heard more ideas flowing around. As I walked around the groups, I was saying to myself, "Thank you, Jeff." Soon, all groups were ready. The improvisations were zingers. All groups got the point. Some, of course, were more adept at dialogue and at improvisation than others. But the main point was, the groups were learning to describe through action, intonation, intimation, and character motivation.

Our discussion after each scene was lively. Classmates had differing viewpoints and relished giving information that validated their views. There was a lot of laughter. People weren't being judged from their ideas because they had "seen it" and "heard it." The ideas were real, solid, worthy. They had tested them out through improvisation and had instant feedback from their peers, getting support, suggestions, and new insights about how to transfer what they'd seen and heard onto paper.

Our time was up. I had only one hour with them. This class was not scheduled for any more drama sessions. I would not see them again. I asked the students if they had some fun ideas to use for a descriptive story. Resounding "Yes!" I asked the teacher to send me some copies of the stories they would write. Then, I left. As I walked out, I turned to the class and said, "This was very valuable to me. I've learned a lot." I looked at Jeff and nodded and smiled. He smiled back.

I never saw the stories. I don't know if Jeff found further trust in his voice after that day. At least I know, for a moment, the trust was there. Support from his classmates was there. and I knew that drama could be directly linked, with tremendous strength and validity, with the writing curriculum.

Since that day, I've been working with more passion and stronger conviction to integrate drama activities with reading, writing and learning skills. That day changed my life. Thank you, Jeff.

Readers' Theater: Teaching Students to Recognize Dialogue

1995. Language Arts/Social Studies block. Lesson Focus: Recognizing the technical aspects of written dialogue in a story. Boredom/indifference on 5th-grade faces.

I was at my wits end. Already the students and I had gone over the exercises on dialogue in the language book. We had made up our own sentences using dialogue. I thought the students were gaining understanding of the technical aspects of dialogue, meaning for fifth graders the use of quotation marks for each person's speaking parts and indentation of paragraphs for each speaker. I was wrong. Although they could demonstrate the correct usage of quotation marks in individual sentences, students did not transfer this usage to sentences in their stories. Nor did they understand the usage of indentation for paragraphs in their stories.

Having corrected class stories, group stories, and individual stories without success, I opened my basal reader and turned to a popular story among fifth graders. Since I found it difficult and time-consuming to discuss and correct so many different stories, I decided to make it easier for myself and my students. Usage of the basal text allowed all of us to dissect the same story.

To capture student interest, I explained to the students that "Phoebe and the General" was a true story about a little girl who helped to save George Washington's life during the Revolutionary War years, before he became President. I also explained that this story used a lot of dialogue, so I wanted them to watch for the mechanics of the dialogue, i.e., the use of quotation marks and indentation. Students became animated. As fifth graders like to do, they raised their hands, asking to take turns reading the story aloud. Since this was exactly what I wanted them to do, what I thought Readers' Theater was all about, I encouraged them to read with expression and to become the voices of the characters with dialogue.

Students were excited. They took turns and read with expression. Unfortunately, they made no distinctions between narrative and dialogue. After three readings, I decided they were familiar with the mechanics of the story. They could discuss the plot, sequence events, name and describe characters. However, they still did not make the distinctions I wanted.

So, to the joy of the students, I announced that we would read the story again, but this time, we would become the characters. For our Readers' Theater, we would read only the dialogue aloud.

An amazing transformation occurred. The room came alive. The students were ecstatic. They loved the thought of becoming the characters. In that instance, I witnessed the power of drama. The students took charge. They became active participants, the organizers of their own learning, relegating me to the role of mere facilitator. Within minutes, I watched, both delighted and amazed, as my fifth graders grouped themselves by character and each group assigned members a sequence for their character's dialogue. Then, just as if this story were a play, they told me they wanted to begin this reading with the word "action" and end it with the word "cut."

The first "dialogue" go-through was rough. For the most part, students skipped major sections of narrative. They found the dialogue and added voice distinctions for the characters. Their greatest difficulty was in skipping the written directives that were in the same sentences as the dialogue. In other words, they read aloud every word included in the dialogue sentence. They also had difficulty recognizing when dialogue changes occurred in characters, particularly when tags were missing. Amazingly, these problems were easily rectified. Once again I gave my spiel about the mechanics of writing dialogue, and to my delight, students began to demonstrate understanding. Soon students became tutors for their peers still experiencing difficulties. I listened as they pointed out that where the quotation mark began, the speaker's mouth should open, and when the quotation mark ended, the speaker's mouth should shut. They also pointed out that each speaker's part got its own paragraph, meaning all they had to do was watch for the indentations, especially when there were no tags. In this collaborative manner, my students learned both the technical aspects and the importance of dialogue.

Throughout this process, as the facilitator, I listened and discovered a concrete method for diagnosing the problems my students were having in understanding the technical aspects of dialogue. Furthermore, I was granted an opportunity to help students to see and to realize the importance of these mechanics. Here was a skill I had tried and failed to teach for weeks, a skill so easily learned in one day, all due to the incorporation of an improvisation of a drama technique called Readers' Theater.

Students' Expressions: What Using Drama in the Classroom Meant to Them

1995. Traveling the rural back roads from one school to another. The Writing and Performing Across Communities project, started from explorations in those Connecticut classrooms ten years ago, was now five years old. We had worked with many teachers and students using improvisation to strengthen reading, writing and learning skills. We had learned a lot. Remembering this morning. A classroom session with fourth-graders. Today, another success.

Brian was extremely intelligent and shared loads of ideas as we improvised and acted out characters from traditional stories. However, he couldn't write. He just couldn't get his brain to travel down to the pen he was holding. He usually wrote three sentences and then stopped. We had finished acting out a folk myth to illustrate the style of a myth. Then, we broke into teams to create our own, original myths. After determining titles to direct our stories, teams gathered to design how they would act out the characters and plots for the myths. Brian's team narrated the story, Why Snakes Don't Have Legs. Then, it was time for questions and comments from the audience:

She was overcome, saying excitedly, "Brian wrote the second draft! Three pages!"

I asked, "Why do you think that happened?" I always need elaboration.

She answered, "Because of this process! It's fun, it gets them out of their desks and helps them bring their thoughts out in the open! Brian is so excited about writing this story!" Later I was to learn that he actually had his version published in a state-wide student anthology.

Today, I was filled with more joy about the process of writing and editing through drama because of Brian. Now, on the road to the high school, I only hoped that I could handle the more advanced improvisations that we would tackle with the ninth-graders' first drafts.

I've learned, when I am hesitant or unsure about the next step, to allow the students to take charge. When I walked into that high school classroom, the students made that very clear. Jennifer said, "I don't know what else to do with this draft."

Carla and Simon shouted, "Let's improvise!"

I sat back and heard the class ask Jennifer pertinent questions about her story of a woman confined to a wheelchair. They needed more insight about her physical ailment and how she was reacting to it. So, they decided to plan a scene where the main character was reminiscing about her days before her confinement. Jennifer had never written such a scene, but the students knew that they would add more possibilities to the story through this device.

Tyrone acted as the orderly in a hospital, caring for the invalid woman, played by Marta. The scene was tender, poignant. All eyes were watching carefully as the scene developed. We learned the woman had been careless with her youth. Reckless. Her injuries were her own fault. Now, she had good days and bad days, but she remained firmly philosophical. She was resigned to her fate but had also gained an understanding of herself that she had never seen.

I kept glancing at Jennifer. She was furiously writing notes as she watched the scene. Marta's last line came, ending the scene. In character, she spoke softly, "I will treasure my memories, but for now, I'm seeing each day come as a blessing. I finally know who I am."

Tyrone and Marta looked at each other. They sensed this was the end of the scene. They looked to the audience. No one spoke for a few seconds.

Then Carla said, "Wow. That was something."

Tyrone shouted, "Yeah!"

Then the class buzzed with ideas about the scene and how to incorporate some of the poignancy into the writing. Jennifer looked at her notes.

"I really like the ‘discovery' angle that the woman has, now. I'm keeping that. Also, I like the way Marta used her hands to express her thoughts. I can see it, now."

When I later asked the students to tell me what they had gained most out of using improvisation for editing, they told me:

Then, the topper from Tyrone. In his casual way, he told us, "You know, I used to think I couldn't understand a lot of the stories we had to read for classes. But after all this improv stuff, I sort of play out a scene about the characters in my head. Then, I understand more. You know? Is this what you call interpretation?"

Yes, indeed.

Students' Expressions: What Using Drama in the Classroom Meant to Them

1996. February is traditionally the month for poetry in our school. Students write their own poems and decorate a poetry jar for display in our media center.

End of January. Language Arts block. Lesson Focus: Writing poetry. Dismay and frustration on 5th grade faces.

I was excited for our annual Poetry Express month to arrive. My students had become good readers and creative writers—of stories. I assumed they would tackle the task of writing poetry in a confident manner. I was wrong. My announcement that we were going to write our own poems this year, as opposed to copying a poem from a library book in younger grades, was met with groans, frowns, and drooping shoulders. Clearly, my students did not share my enthusiasm. Some said they hated poetry. Others said they had no clue as to how to write poetry. Others still said they did not care to write poetry. In other words, I had a problem: I believed everyone can write poetry. My students thought otherwise. My goal was to help these creative writers of stories learn that they could also write poems worthy of display in our media center.

Having worked with 9 to 16 year old students during my tenure as a teacher, I knew that one common theme of interest among all students was emotions. So I decided we would begin our exploration of the world of poetry with words describing emotions. As preparation, I made a list of my own, as a jump-start of sorts for a brainstorming session with my class. I thought of 26 emotions or feelings and felt that I had pretty much exhausted this theme. Ha! Was I wrong! My students not only did not need my help, they brainstormed together and listed 127 different emotions or feelings on our board. Clearly, they quickly understood the description part of poetry. In fact, they were so excited about their list that they immediately wanted to act out each of the emotions. What fun we had! I called out each emotion, and all twenty-one students made facial expressions and/or used body language to demonstrate it. In hindsight, I wish I had taken pictures or had video-recorded these expressions. They were great! This exercise allowed students to display their understanding of each emotion in a non-threatening, fun manner that provided many opportunities for students to share their thoughts through role play. Students were allowed to choose to participate as an independent display of an emotion and/or to collaborate with others as a group display of an emotion. The addition of action to words provided students with what I call an "intangible connection" to the beauty of poetry: Without speaking, students demonstrated that they could see, feel, and express their understandings of the emotions represented by the listed words. Now that this hardest task, one which makes poetry relevant to students, was accomplished, I needed to help students turn their actions into writing. I had to help students devise an organizing pattern or grouping for these emotional words.

Since I love bold, vibrant illustrations, I tossed out a word to students: COLORS. They loved it! and once again they were off! Students brainstormed possible colors and came up with a list of eight favorites: red, blue, orange, purple, black, green, pink, and yellow. Once this list was determined, the task of grouping each of the 127 listed emotions into its color was relatively easy for my students. They grouped themselves into four groups. Each group took two colors, and from the list on the board, they chose the emotions they felt best fit or matched their colors. By the end of our class session, I had eight groups of emotions, and eight groups of students excited and eager to write poetry!

During the next few days my classroom became one of activity. Students checked out poetry books from the media center as references. They worked together, paring down their lists of emotions, making decisions on the major emotions that were best expressed by their colors. Soon I had creative works of art presented to me. Not only had students decided on a theme for their poems, they had created voices for themselves within these expressions of emotions. I was both delighted and awed. Once again, my students showed that with a little guidance they could astound us all. Astound us they did as they created skits to act out their poems and shared them with classmates and audiences throughout the school. Needless to say, our display of poetry jars in the media center was a big hit. My Code students had become poets and they "knowed" it!

A Rainbow of Emotions

Emotions, Emotions Everywhere. Emotions, Emotions In the air. Like a rainbow In the sky, Emotions are colors Passing by. . . PINK, PINK, It's a color that Makes us think Of times when we're As silly As Willie: There once was A boy Named Willie. And he liked To act rather Silly. One day, When it was Sunny, He thought it'd be Real funny To pretend He was in love With a friend. So in Math class, Willie thought fast. (You see, Although Willie acted crazy, His brain wasn't at all Lazy.)

With his elbow In a bend To hold up his chin, He grinned the Silliest grin and Daydreamed PINK Until the teacher Screamed, "Think, Willie, think. Sit up, and Quit being silly! What is new about Two plus two?" His face flushed, Willie blinked And blushed PINK As he gushed At the floor, "The answer is four." Willie Isn't silly Anymore.

Spring, 1997. Debra and Carol have been working for three years using drama activities to highlight story and poetry elements, and using improvisation as an editing tool for writing. In her fifth grade classroom, Debra has been convinced of the magic drama adds to the curriculum. She says, "The students will surpass your expectations. Using improvisation broadens their perceptions and strengthens the collaboration and trust among student teams. They have fun and learn more than you thought possible. Drama is such a useful tool that connects their classroom learning to personal experience. It gives the students an enthusiasm and a desire to write. Drama makes their ideas come alive."

For the past three years, Debra's students have been among the authors whose writing was chosen for performances by the Celebration! Ensemble. Carol chooses both student and community actors for the ensemble to show how simple staging with minimal props can add depth and meaning to the written word. Words written by K-12 authors. Young voices eager to bring their ideas to life. Once reluctant writers who see new possibilities through drama. Carol loved one comment from a teacher at Tamassee Elementary in South Carolina: "After your performance of stories and poems, my students couldn't wait to get to the classroom to write! I had to rearrange my afternoon lessons to keep up with their enthusiasm!"

One of Debra's students sums it up: "Drama helps give you details. Instead of saying, ‘Karen went to school,' when you know drama, you might say, ‘Karen jogged a long way on a dirt road to school.' When you know drama, you can do about anything at your best."

Carol Collins is Director of Writing and Performing Across Communities, working with K-12 teachers, integrating drama across the curriculum. She directs the Celebration! Ensemble at Clemson University, which offers performances and workshops for community schools, using original writing from D-12 students.

Debra Cox is the Curriculum Coordinator and Gifted and Talented Teacher for Code Elementary School in Seneca, SC. She is also a visiting assistant professor for Clemson University, where she teaches Social Studies Methods for Elementary School. Currently, she is the South Carolina Elementary Social Studies Teacher of the Year.