WITH/OUT STUDENTS Sean Hunley, Director of the Cultural Center
A slight whir from my computer. A faint whisper from the air handling system. A distant drone from a lawnmower somewhere on campus. This is all I hear at the moment—and it’s not so much the sound of something as it is the sound of an absence of something—namely, the students I work with while school is in session.
As an educator, working with students is, of course, my job. But working without students during this eerily quiet time reminds me how different that “working with” relationship has become here at the Cultural Center. The students’ absence leaves a void here—an impression—whose shape describes how profound and exciting that “with” can be in an innovative educational setting.
“Working with” usually denotes partnership, as in “I’m working with two key colleagues to implement this business plan.” But in education, as in social services, “working with” can take on a connotation that is a bit lopsided, somewhat didactic, and perhaps a tad patronizing. “Working with students” in these contexts is a bit like “working with clay.” In that sense, the students are our project; we exert influence on them; we guide, assist, cajole, rebuke, and reward them until they start to take on a desired shape. Our work is not so much “with” them as “on” them. We might say “I’m working on this student,” as a weight lifter would say “I’m working on this muscle group.”
In our Internship Program, we set out to establish a different kind of working relationship with students—one that would empower students to develop real agency. Students would become integrally active participants in the work of a regional performing arts center, learning a host of diverse skills and life lessons while engaging in mission-critical work, from writing press releases to planning events to designing and running lighting. You’ve heard the spiel.
What resulted shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but somehow did. As students quickly gained and demonstrated all kinds of competencies; as they stepped forward, took initiative, and fully embodied these new roles, “working with” them became a true “working with” relationship: a partnership.
Don’t get me wrong. I am still the teacher of the Arts Management Internship, just as Mrs. Donovan is the teacher for the Technical Theater Internship. We still provide leadership, guidance, and accountability. But the more we invite students to work with us, the more collaborative the relationship becomes. On multiple occasions, my arts management interns have taken an event in a much different—and more ambitious—direction than I had envisioned. My temptation has been to reign in the enthusiasm—to keep things predictable, manageable, and tidy. But when I’ve surrendered a little bit to the creative, risk-taking force that is my students—that is, when I’ve worked with them as real partners in the planning process—I’ve discovered that the payoff can be far more spectacular than I had allowed myself to expect. That’s how last season’s Cirque show became a true all-family event, with themed children’s activities like mask-making and cupcake decorating leading up to the actual performance.
Similarly, Mrs. Donovan’s technical theater interns have evolved from a motley bunch of tech enthusiasts to a true staff of experts. During show load-ins and sound checks, interns are perfectly capable of dealing directly with members of a performing artists’ crew on a wide array of technical issues and questions. Interns have pushed beyond the basic knowledge of technical systems with which we’ve equipped them and developed a dynamic, creative understanding that enables them to solve all kinds of problems and accomplish all kinds of goals. Mrs. Donovan and I find ourselves consulting with students when we run into a technical challenge we can’t seem to solve ourselves, tapping their expertise and creativity. And they never fail to deliver. We work with them.
That’s why it’s so weird during these summer weeks working without them. Sure, we get stuff done, but our capacity to mount performing arts events (for example) is decimated. By definition, people you work with are people you depend upon. People you miss when they’re not there. That’s what the interns are to us.
By the way, I like to think—and I’m pretty sure I’m right on this—that this “with” relationship is great preparation for the collaborative worlds of career and citizenship. Or perhaps more accurately, this “with” brings the challenges of career and citizenship more fully and authentically into the world of high school.