Tag Archives: performance

All the world is an improv stage

Think of the roles you play in life: A child, son or daughter to parents… Sibling. Student. Friend. Employee/Boss. Boyfriend/Girlfriend. Husband/Wife. Parent. Caregiver….

We take on so many roles in our lives. And when we take them on, we do so without an instruction manual. We play the role, not knowing how to really do it. You can be trained for a job, but not for every scenario you face. You can model yourself as a parent based on what you’ve seen other parents do, but your child will challenge your skills in unexpected ways.

Every role you take on will put you into situations where you are going off script, you are improvising to the best of your abilities. Sometimes nailing the role and making great choices. Sometimes bombing and making decisions that make the role harder.

All the world is a stage, and we are all actors, playing parts we learn as we play them. Some people play certain parts really well, while they flop in different roles. Not too many people, if any, are able to play each of their roles without struggling somewhere. We admire those that put on a show and do things really well. We complain about those that can’t or don’t play their role well. We often lack confidence that we can do our role well enough.

We are far more critical of how we play our roles compared to others. We often feel like we are the only ones acting… everyone else has a script. But there is no script. There is no one path, improv doesn’t work if everything is set up. It has rules to keep going well. It’s better to support the actors around you than it is to cut them off. It’s better to understand that you share the stage than trying to go solo.

It’s not about getting everything right. It’s about helping others when they are lost for their lines, their roles. It’s about sharing and laughing. It’s about enjoying the performance, even when it’s challenging. It’s about taking on new roles, and trying new things.

The world is your stage. The play is your playground. Improvise your roles as best as you can. And remember that others are improvising theirs roles too. Work with your fellow actors to create the best performance you can. But remember it’s all an act, and if you aren’t playing a role that works, change the role or change the way you act in it. All the world is an improv stage, and so you get to write the script as you go. Enjoy the performance, you only get one.

On the stage

Last night my youngest performed her ‘Set of 5’. Her and 3 other classmates choose 5 songs to sing and do a patter in between them. The songs and stories are personal and raw. They can change the lyrics of songs to better tell their story.

There is something really special about watching aspiring singers and actresses open up and share a part of themselves on stage.

I don’t know how they do it? It’s so far off of what I’d feel capable of doing. First off, I really can’t sing. But beyond that, the idea of getting on a stage and confidently expressing such confidence and candour… it’s all too much for me.

They on the other hand, they shine when on stage. They connect with the audience, incite laughter and tears, and take us on a wonderful journey. All the world may be a stage, but it takes a special kind of person to get up on a stage and give a truly great performance.

Waves and fluctuations

I’m an avid audio book listener, and I usually get through almost a book a week unless I am reading something that’s really long, then it could be two weeks. But I just took three weeks to listen to a 5-hour long book, and didn’t feel I got as much out of it as I had hoped.

One of my healthy living goals this year was to shoot arrows 100 days of the year. I’ve far exceeded that target, but last week I only shot once, and I think I might only get to shoot once this week. The long gaps have led me to be more inconsistent and two out of the last three outings have produced some of my lowest scores in months.

I’ve been doing really well in the gym and have added a few pounds in the past few months, but the past couple weeks I’ve been missing a few workouts or I’m working out, but not really pushing myself.

I’ve missed more meditations in the last 6 weeks than I’ve missed for the rest of the year. When I do meditate, it’s more like I am am having a quiet moment to think about random things. I can’t seem to focus on my breath any more than I could when I started my daily meditation routine almost 3 years ago.

I know that I can’t always be doing everything at my best, but usually the fluctuations vary and I am doing some things well while struggling in other areas. The only thing I’m still doing consistently is writing daily… but I’m finding that I’m quite slow and everything else in my morning routine needs to be rushed.

This isn’t some bigger issue that I’m aware of, I’m not feeling depressed or sad. I’m just in the wave trough of effort and enthusiasm of my routines, and hopefully going to move up to the crest soon. It’s just unusual to find myself ‘down here’ in so many aspects at once. I tend to find some balance that is missing. The question is, what do I do to get out of it? Do I focus on just one thing? Do I wake up earlier and give myself more time? Do I just accept the fluctuations and allow myself another week of going through the motions, knowing that I’ll find my way back, knowing that I can’t always bring my ‘A’ game to everything I do?

My indifference to trying to get out of this rut suggests to me that I need to allow myself this time. I’ll make sure that I don’t miss another meditation. I’ll try to see if I can get an extra session of shooting arrows in this week, even if it’s for half the time I usually shoot for. I’ll start a fictional novel even though I usually wait for the holidays to choose a book that I’m not learning from. None of these are huge steps, but each of them offer me an opportunity to move from trough to crest in one of these areas that I seem to be under-performing in.

Live performances

I could never do it. Step on stage night after night and perform the same set of lines. It’s not something I would want to do. Tell me I have to present some information to 1,500 kids in a school gym, easy. Give me 5 lines to act in the same scenario and I’m a mess. I’ll give you a performance similar to a cardboard cutout of myself. And, I’ll probably mess up 2 of the 5 lines.

But put me in the audience and I’m in awe of the dramatic artists on stage. I get swept up in the performance. I am in awe of the the performers sharing their craft. And while I am someone who rarely watches all but a handful of favourite movies more than once, I can watch a live performance again and again.

Yesterday, in front of a very small audience, I got to watch my daughter in a musical for the first time in 2 years. Opening night is often a bit shaky, but her and her 2nd year cohort really nailed the performance, it was wonderful. Their creative interpretation of the play, with minimal props, was clever and imaginative, and the performers all hit their marks.

I will miss tonight’s performance for a (digital) open house event at my school, and then catch the closing performance tomorrow night. And I’ll probably enjoy the performance more than I did last night. That’s the power of a live performance, and I love to watch. I also love the joy it brings my daughter, but I never want to be on the stage myself. My role is in the audience.

Live events

Last night I watched my daughter perform live for the first time in 2 years. It was her university class performance, with 11 students singing two 1-2 minute shortened versions of songs from the 60’s to today. And there was also an opening and closing song along with three group songs. The event went by quickly, the audience was small, and everyone including performers wore masks the entire time.

It was wonderful!

I loved being part of a live audience. I loved watching talented kids put their heart and soul into a performance. I loved the sense of normalcy that an event like this gave me.

I even loved that we had to show our vaccine card to enter the audience. The idea that we can slowly start to expand our opportunities and see live events needs to come with precautions and concern about reducing risk of covid contagion. Live events are wonderful, but as we move back to normalcy, it needs to be done cautiously… or we’ll take a step backwards and lose out on enjoying many live events like this one.

An Annual Event

Last night we held iHub Annual where we highlighted some student performances, our Ollie Awards, and our grads.

Our Ollie Awards are our awards based on our motto: Dream – Create – Learn, and students from all grades and all levels of academic achievement can receive them.

The show opens at 4:45 with a song co-written and performed by students for the annual. My speech to the grads is at 39:40, and our Valedictorian and Spirit of Inquiry award winner’s speech is at 49:17.

This is a presentation put together with so much student work, and it comes off quite polished. It is a celebration of the year that was, and for a few moments while watching it, I forgot about the challenges this year presented.

I can’t wait for the opportunity to run this event live again, but watching last night from the comfort of my home, I was thrilled to see students in the chat enjoying the show, and I was grateful that I wasn’t in a stuffy theatre on one of the hottest days on record.

It truly is remarkable to work in a school where students know that it’s their job to Dream and Create, as well as to Learn.

Averages and Parachute Packing

This is Part 2 of:

Average tells us nothing.

Here are some very well rounded marks of a hypothetical student in a course:

The student starts out very average with 60% on the first 3 tests:

On the next test, the student shows much greater comprehension:

Then on the final test, the student shows mastery of the PLO’s, the prescribed learning outcomes:

Now if these were tests on completely different units, unrelated to each other, you could argue that the student deserves a 70% final. However if the student was learning information that was cumulative and knowledge at the end of the course required understanding of previous work, then wouldn’t the student deserve a higher mark?

For example, if the student was learning to code, and the simple(r) concepts learned at the start of the course (that the first 3 tests were on) were required understanding to do well in the second part of the course: Shouldn’t the student’s final mark represent greater understanding of the course than the 70% final mark from the average of all 5 tests?

The Parachute Packing Analogy

I love the simplicity of this example! There are 3 students who are in a parachute packing class:

Students take 3 tests during the course.

Student A starts off strong and gets an A on the first test, gets a B on the second test, is over-confident, flounders and gets a C on their final test.

Student B is a solid B student and gets B’s on all 3 tests.

Student C struggles on the first test and gets a C, starts understanding the concepts and gets a B on the second test, then totally understands all the concepts and finishes with an A on the final test.

All 3 students have a ‘B’ average in the course.

Which student do you want to pack your parachute?

Average tells us nothing.

Part 1

It might be an exaggeration to say that it tells us nothing, but averages don’t usually give us enough information to be useful.

Individual student level: In Math class, kid gets an ‘A’ on his test on positive and negative integers. Then he gets a ‘C’ on fractions. Score averages to a ‘B’… but when the kid moves on to algebra, and most of the algebra includes solving problems with fractions, it’s unlikely the kid will do better than a ‘C’. The important information is the ‘C’ in fractions, not the ‘B’ average.

On a team level: When some team members have done amazing things and other tram members have done nothing new, measuring the average means absolutely nothing. You can’t look at averages when some team members will move and some won’t. The reality is that everybody has to be moving in the right direction, and when some are standing still, it doesn’t matter where the average is, it doesn’t matter if the average is moving slightly up.

The fact is that we are failing or we have failed if we don’t figure out where we are weakest and improve where we need it most. Athletes get this. They know that the weakest part of their performance is the area where there is the most room for improvement… this is a mindset we need on our teams to move forward.

Part 2: The Parachute Packing analogy and school grades.

Live performances

Last night we went to see a play called ‘Noises Off’ at the Stanley Theatre in Vancouver. It was a clever, funny play, but I didn’t enjoy it very much. Still, I was amazed by some of the performances. It was a play filled with physical comedy and I could see the commitment to character by the actors.

I do not enjoy singing or acting, but I’m in awe of those that love it and are good at it. I love to see performers thrive in front of an audience, to watch them feed off of the energy a good audience. When I watch my daughter act or sing I see her in her element. I see a performer.

The applause wouldn’t be enough for me to do the same performance night after night. I don’t understand the appeal. I don’t even like watching my favourite movies over again without a long gap measured in years. Live performances are things I will attend, but not anything I’d ever want to do.

I tip my hat to talented artists that feed off of a live audience. I think that our desire to entertain and be entertained is part of what makes us a unique and self aware animal. The fact that I don’t want to be an entertainer does not take away from my admiration of those that do.

In the zone

I am not a natural athlete. A great coach once said to me after a practice, “Dave, there are two kinds of people in the world, the talented and the hard workers… you are a hard worker.” He was right, and I appreciated his honesty.

I played water polo. My first year, Grade 11, I was last off the bench and easily the weakest player. I was always the slowest swimmer on the team and my stroke efficiency was awful. But I worked my butt off!

I’m pretty sure not playing any organized sports before Grade 11 hindered my abilities. I had a lot of catching up to do to transfer pickup soccer and street hockey skills, and make them worthy of competitive team play. I worked hard and got better, but I played with teammates who understood the game, and some who had laser accuracy with their shots, and many who could swim much faster and more efficiently than me.

But sometimes I could get in the zone. Sometimes the game slowed down for me and I could see more action around me. Sometimes I could see the play forming and feel the rhythm of the game. I didn’t have a switch I could turn on, I didn’t know what I could do to put myself in the zone. I didn’t have control of it.

It has been years since I was in a similar athletic situation, but in a pickup basketball game on Friday I felt it again. It was wonderful to remember what it was like to be fully present in a game. It’s a pretty special thing when you can feel yourself in the zone.

I saw it again on Saturday night. I went to a WHL (hockey) game, Vancouver vs Spokane, and in the opening minutes a Spokane player got my attention. I pointed him out to my buddy and said, ‘that one has talent’. He scored 4 points in the game. He was in the zone.

I think the truly talented players know how to get there at will. I’m not sure if it can be trained into you through hard work, if it is a learned skill, or if it is talent? Does thousands of hours of practice help create this, or do you have to be pre-loaded with a natural ability? What do the best athletes do to put themselves in the zone?