Affording Failure
“Success is there to lull you into a false sense of security, assuring that you will try and fail again.”
When you work in a field like theatre, culinary, or any other trade-based program, you often find yourself in problem solving mode for most of the process. There are handful of organizational models that are effective in this environment but only one that adequately serves both the institution and the students.
I have a lot of experience with failure. In fact, I may have invented it. At some point I just decided that if I could keep the success/failure ratio somewhat balanced then I would be able to try to keep moving, growing, evolving.
I had some help with that. One particular professor during my undergrad was the king of hands-off. That is not to say that he was not engaged. He sat in on every class/rehearsal and watched. He didn’t often offer advice. I remember how frustrated it made me sometimes. I wanted him to tell me what to do. I would be so much easier. One day near the end of class I walked over to him and said, “Can I ask your advice about a few things?” He smiled, said “of course,” and talked to me for almost an hour. He answered my specific questions and not a lot more. It must have been pretty hard for him, knowing him like I do now, and knowing how it feels to be in the same position. But the end result is that he was doing me a tremendous service. He was letting me fail. Spectacularly. And the lessons I learned from those failures shape almost every show I have directed since.
But here’s my point. Show time is crunch time. As directors we have dealt with this process dozens of times. Most of the usual problems get solved in the standard handful of ways. New problems get puzzled out and untangled as a matter of course. It’s easy to assume the role and take charge. With a good crew of students and volunteers a lot can be accomplished in a few days.
But the inevitable happens. A student wanders up and says “I have an idea” or “You know what we should do?” or “What are we going to do about . . .?” What do you do? What can you afford to do?
When is it? How much time do you have? Can you spare a little time to chase a rabbit down a hole? Then do it. Give your students as much agency as possible. Step back and give them a chance to put their finger prints all over your show. I know, I know, saying it is a lot easier than doing it.
Be quiet. Listen. Ask questions. Give them time to process. Sometimes students ask questions simply to verbally think through their problem. Help them but do not interfere if you can afford it. This is education in pure, life changing form. Ours too.
Praise them when they succeed. Even if their success is coming to a very logical conclusion. They got there on their own. That’s a wonderful thing. Beginner. Intermediate. Advanced. It’s a progression. But what we must do is create a space where the beginner feels his input is welcomed and valued. A grunt will think like a grunt and very little else. “What do you think?” becomes an agent of engagement and instruction. A student who has some success at the beginner level will begin to think more about riskier ideas. They will learn to trust that process. Independent thought is a learned behavior. Independent thinkers are worth their weight in gold.
You are creating an environment where students feel secure enough to think about the whole process, dream a little, have ideas, and share them. They will not do this if you have created a world where no input has value but yours. As it turns out, over the years, some of my favorite show moments and elements have come from the hearts and minds of the students, not mine at all. Letting go is not as easy as it sounds, but the payoff is extraordinary.
















