Anna Scher
I have just listened to Desert Island Discs. I love
listening to DID; always have done so, and I know I have commented on this blog
before about the competence and compassion of the current presenter.
Kirsty Young comes across as a thoughtful and empathetic
person who puts her guests at ease and enables them to discuss some often
painful experiences in their lives.
Today was no exception.
Her castaway this week was Anna Scher, a drama teacher
who has incorporated a pacifist philosophy into her teaching, a women who
seemed to have the real interests of her individual students at the forefront
of her mind, a woman who wants young people to learn that their own glory and
career is nothing in comparison with the need for a peaceful world order.
She has had a string of successful students passing
through her doors, and I am sure there are an equal amount of struggling
thespians who have not hit the heights of the likes of Kathy Burke, for
instance (who incidentally was on Marcus Brigstocke’s “I’ve Never Seen Star
Wars” this week).
However, there have been successes and Anna Scher appears
to be one of the reasons for these actors prosperity, in the widest sense of
the term.
A theatre school is a strange place, I have always
thought. The hoards of folk to emerge from the Sylvia Young School or the newer
version of the Fame Academies all seem to have one thing in common; a complete
belief in themselves. However, as I said before, we only hear about the
successful ones, and some of them are clearly good enough actors to make us
think that they have a total belief in themselves. There must be plenty who do
not make it, and if they are not good enough at acting and have only really
been trained to do that one thing from an early age, I wonder what happens to
these young people and what sort of state of wellbeing they are in at the end
of it.
This is an all too familiar theme. It is not really very
different to the sort of schooling that Michael Gove is trying to create, i.e.
that we expect our young people to be proficient in academic studies and those
who do not make the grade, literally, are deemed as defunct, lesser people,
failures – by the age of sixteen.
What a tragedy, what a criminal act of indifference, what
an assault on the rights of each and every child.
What I found interesting about Anna Scher was her
approach to teaching that seemed to have the child at the centre. She was, and
is, concerned about preparing them with the skills of the trade but she also
seemed to be equally determined to ensure that many of their other needs were
met too. Her final track, for instance, was one that she uses at the end of
lessons to ensure that the students depart on a high note with positive
criticism from the peers.
“Compliments on your kiss” – Red Dragon.
That is precisely the sort of thing we ought to be
complimenting people on; not just their ability to cram facts into their heads
and regurgitate according to the doctrines of academia but to concentrate on
the things that actually mean something to our young people, and adults alike.
“So, you have a Baccalaureate full of A stars but my, you
can kiss!”
Which of those compliments would satisfy you the most?
Her starting point for every lesson was also upbeat,
encouraging, willing. Her chosen record for this was “Brown Eyed Girl” by Van
Morrison. I cannot remember her exact words but she said it was melodic, full
and uplifting. It gave her students energy and vivacity.
That has to be a good way to start anything; a day, a
lesson, whatever.
But the most striking thing about Anna Scher’s schools
that appears to be different from other within the genre is her determination
to insist that all students should partake in Peace Studies.
At one point, when she had had to take some time out of
her role through illness, the governors of the school appointed a new principle
or head teacher. With Anna out of the way, they disregarded this notion of
peace lessons, claiming them to be unnecessary. This was theatre school and
that is what they should be concentrating on, not this purple patch of
pacifism. Where did that fit in to the greater goal of refurbishing the cast of
Eastenders?
Anna Scher was resolute. She felt that the peace lessons
were an absolute necessity and now she travels the world with her lessons,
ensuring that people consider the words of people like Mahatma Gandhi and Martin
Luther King and that they don’t just listen to these great speeches but
incorporate them into their lives, their thinking, their philosophy.
What Anna Scher seems to be saying is that whilst her aim
is to support young people into the world of stage and screen, there has to be
an underlying learning about the world too. There has to be, in any curriculum
in any school, whatever their supposed primary purpose, the desire and function
of educating children and young people to be empathetic whilst simultaneously
developing their own passions, creativity and wellbeing.
Now that is an intelligent sort of approach to teaching and
learning, in my opinion.
My final comment about Anna Scher is regarding her
debilitating illness.
She suffers from depression.
She described its symptoms with horrifying accuracy.
Anyone who has suffered from depression or has been close to someone with this
illness may well have shuddered as she explained the lead weight that hangs
around obtrusively, determining whether you will yourself out of bed or not. Anyone
who has known depression will have empathised with what she said about how
all-consuming depression can be, often without any obvious determining factor.
When there is a
determining factor and the sufferer is faced with knowing what the cause is and
the inability to do anything about it, then the depression can spiral into
something deeper and more tragic, and it is only the person at the centre, the
one who is suffering the illness itself that can draw themselves out of this void,
though help from others is usually gratefully received.
Depression is awful.
And yet, in the most bizarre of ways, there is something
that I personally find comforting about listening to others describing their
experiences. It makes one feel less alone, for certain, but it is greater than
that. It makes one realise that there are possibly some positives for those who
are susceptible to this illness.
This may sound strange and hardly a comfort when you are
at your lowest point, but I do wonder whether those who suffer from depression
do so because their levels of empathy are such that they can see the problems
of the world before many others have got up to draw the curtains.
I am not suggesting that all depression is the same and I
am certainly not suggesting that all depressives are full of empathy. Sadly,
that is one of the qualities that so frequently disappears with the onset of a
bout of the illness but perhaps the incidents of depression in these cases are
the body’s response to an overload of empathy!
Anna Scher appeared to be an extremely empathetic person
who has episodes in her life where the extent of woes subsumes, so that for all
her empathy and for all her self-knowledge, this illness creeps in and whacks
her where it hurts the most.
There are many who suffer from depression who have plenty
of knowledge of what to do when it comes upon them and yet still fall foul of
its effects. It is not a simple illness and it cannot be eradicated or placated
simply either.
We all hope that we can live in the now and accept our
world and our ways and be demonstrative in doing something positive for the
world and for ourselves, but sometimes, just sometimes, everything seems a
little impossible.
And sometimes it is good to hear that successful,
empathetic, creative and passionate people understand and experience that too.
So, back to Desert Island Discs. Robert Hardy next week.
I hope that is not going to be a disappointment. I wonder if that particular
thespian will demonstrate the kind of empathy and thoughtfulness that this week’s
castaway has implied.
.................................................................................
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
When You Are Old
WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face among a crowd of stars
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face among a crowd of stars
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