Autumn Term

It’s looking like we’re in for an extremely patchy, inconsistent term of work, whether you’re working online or off. Here are some thoughts about how to deal with this.

Getting all our young people in one room (or zoom) is hard enough in normal times. Now, self-isolation, extra school pressure and parental concerns are going to make that much worse. We’re already working in smaller groups, so drop-outs are going to hit hard.

Build your programme in a way that acknowledges this. Rehearsing a show over a series of weeks is going to be hard. Instead plan one-off, single focus workshops with a clear achievement for everyone at the end. You’ll start to find connections between the weeks anyway.

Set expectations from the start. “Sometimes we’ll have very small groups. This is a huge opportunity to focus on individuals and spend real quality time on making stuff.” Add in one to one mentoring, monologue practice, or solo show tasks - make those who are there feel special.

Build connection between those not there by taking/sending lots of photo and video and setting tasks for those stuck at home. We have an internal Instagram that only our members can see. Think about whether you can mix zoom and room (I’m dubious, but we’re going to try it).

Create ways workshops can link together even if the same people change. Write instructions together in one workshop that whoever comes to the next one has to follow.

Embrace solo work. It’s easier in a socially distanced room and it means people can develop their own piece at a pace that suits them. Solo work is untainted by having to collaborate, so it often speaks more of the person who made it.

(Of course making solo work doesn’t have to be a lonely activity - pair or group people to watch each others’ work, add ideas or ask good questions about it).

Think about how you capture the material you make. We’re going to experiment with turning our Instagram into a little open-mic space. We’re not getting into a theatre soon, and being seen is important to young people. Us hearing what they have to say is even more important.

If you end up on Zoom, don’t try and pretend it’s a drama workshop. It’s not, it’s a conference call - embrace the possibilities of that. Write stories together in the chat. Have proper good chats in breakout rooms. Talk talk talk. It’s where a lot of the best ideas comes from.

Be patient and understanding. It’s not the time to demand excellent attendance. It’s the time to be flexible and understanding. But perhaps also to incentivise regular attendance by saying that those that contribute most get access to more workshops or an extension project.

Don’t be too hard on yourself. A sparse workshop is my kryptonite. It makes me feel very sad. But it’s entirely to be expected right now. For those few that come it will mean the world, for those unable, it will feel important that the space is still there.

For those unwilling, perhaps it’s a good time for them to be allowed to move on. That’s good and healthy too, assuming you make space for a proper goodbye and some good signposting.

Most of all, make sure your work is driven by what young people want and need right now. Almost certainly that will involve social connection and fun. And a chance to shout at the world.

To find out what they want don’t ask them directly. What do you want/need is a really hard question for anyone. Ask them to prioritise different potential activities or statements. Get them to talk to each other or imagine a perfect workshop. Ask them what they’d change about their lives if they could.

One last important thought. Numbers don’t equal value. We’re too caught up in capitalism on this - we’re always bragging about how many people are in our groups or plays. It’s bollocks.

Value should be about change, space, impact. We should embrace the enormous potential of a workshop with a small group and the impact a solo project can have on an individual. What an amazing opportunity these situations present.

Ned Glasier