Lessons that last a lifetime

I've mentioned before that I used to be so shy I'd feel embarrassed talking to my grandparents and struggle to even look them in the eyes. Yet by my early 20s I'd hosted many events, played in multiple shows and was teaching drama to secondary school students.

So what happened? It's hard to pin down to one thing. Perhaps it's just growing in confidence with age? Maybe it's being thrown into the deep end working on a market stall with my parents? Either way, one thing that definitely had an impact is one of my teachers in secondary school - Miss Heare, and later her sidekick Miss Maru.

When I was around 13, I discovered the world of technical theatre through a friend. I was already a self-confessed computer geek, so it looked interesting to me! School life is a little blurry to me these days but I wanted to start helping do sound and lighting for school shows, and the first step was to work backstage in some way.

Some of my first interactions with Miss Heare were simply observing her passionately directing during rehearsals. She had a reputation for being strict. Really, it came from a place of wanting everyone to do their absolute best and make every piece of theatre as good as it could be. As a professional actor, she had high standards and, to be fair, they were consistently met each time the performance rolled around.

It wasn't until a year later that Miss Heare actually became my teacher after I picked drama as a GCSE subject. I think my parents were shocked I'd chosen to study it! One of the reasons I chose it was that I discovered I wouldn't need to perform; I could focus on the technical element instead. In hindsight, I think Miss Heare had decided early on that she'd get me performing one way or another.

After working backstage on a show, I decided to audition to be in the next one. I can't remember what compelled me to do that. I remember being daunted by the audition. I was offered the part of Franz, the butler in The Sound of Music. I remember being overwhelmed, upset and crying when it was announced. I think everyone was confused by that, considering I had willingly auditioned, but it's a reflection of the embarrassment I felt inside about performing in front of everyone (and the crying in front of everyone as a 14 year old didn't help with the embarrassment)!

I ended up working backstage and did the same again the following year. At the time I had become bored of school but drama was a subject that felt different and fun, providing the opportunity to explore something new with an interesting group of people.

The following year meant transitioning into Sixth Form and having to select A Levels for study. Obviously I chose drama and IT. It was the first year for a long time that the drama department had enough students to run an A Level course. I have lots of great memories learning about and devising different styles of theatre with our group of 10 or so. We covered a lot of ground from an adaption of To Kill a Mockingbird to a devised piece of abstract theatre.

It was also the year that Sharon convinced me to audition for the show again. For some reason I was selected to play the lead role of Pseudolus in a musical farce called A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. To this day I have no idea what led Miss Heare to cast me in that role but I enjoyed it, even though the whole thing remains a blur! The following year she had obviously forgotten how bad my singing was because I was then cast in the role of Don in the musical Summer Holiday (originally played by Cliff Richard).

I'm not exaggerating when I say I now realise both of those experiences helped shape me. I didn't realise at the time, but they gave me the confidence to go on and do things in the following years, like apply for the competition I previously wrote about and volunteer to host a community radio show, both of which in turn led me to more new opportunities. Those shows were the foundation of the skills I continue to use today when I'm delivering keynotes, running workshops, or training and coaching others to do the same. 

That's the power of a great teacher. You don't always realise it at the time but they see something in you that you don't see in yourself.

Those times when you're being nagged to learn lines or work harder feel like an annoyance but actually help you achieve what you're capable of. A great teacher supports you in building skills that genuinely last a lifetime.

I'm lucky enough to call Sharon Heare a friend all these years later (she's enjoying well-deserved retirement these days), and a group of us continue to meet at least once a year. Sharon, Heena, Chris and other teachers who made a material difference during my time at school and college... Thank you. You helped me more than you'll ever know.

I should add, it's also thanks to those folks that I ended up working in the school, taught drama and started the media department. But that's a story for another time! In future I'll also write more about how drama (and the arts more broadly) is too often overlooked and underfunded when absolutely everyone benefits from them. There's often a blinkered view that these subjects only offer the output that an audience sees on stage, screen or paper rather than the skills they can help build for anyone.

To all the educators reading this, enjoy a restful summer break. You've earned it.