An Expert in Curiosity

Two days ago, through a series of unexpected events, I was asked to take over a colleague's African Fiction class for about two weeks.

Friends, I know nothing about African Fiction.  Latin American fiction, yes.  European and North American fiction, yes.  Middle Eastern fiction, a bit.  But besides some Gordimer and Coetzee, besides several African playwrights...I'm exactly where my students are.

But I said yes immediately.

This new adventure is a reminder, though, that on my best days teaching material with which I am intimately familiar, I go in with the mindset of student, of NOT knowing the "answers" to a given text.  That the focus, in a classroom, should be on the student's learning rather than the teacher's knowledge.  For the next two weeks, these guys are going to be in a deliberately, necessarily student-centered classroom.

This isn't to say I go in with no plan, or with no role.  What I can give them is my experience asking deep questions, and holding the group's feet to the fire to be rigorous in seeking answers.  I can remind them that no one knows everything (particularly with fiction), and the most important thing to do is keep interrogating.

The best teachers, I think, are experts in curiosity.

What about playwrights?  The more I think about it, the more I see a parallel.  I've heard people say that I should be an "expert on my own play" or "the toughest critic in the room."  But what if I re-frame that?  Isn't it the playwright's job to create a play that asks questions?  Isn't the difference between great literature (or drama) and great diatribe that art leaves room for questions about the human experience, pushes deeper toward more meaningful, trickier questions?  And isn't the real strength of critique the ability to ask fresher, deeper, more rigorous questions about the work in front of you?

And don't the best plays work to create an "audience-centered" experience?  How many times have I asked a young actor how they can invite the audience to HAVE an emotional reaction to a given moment, rather than simply observe the ACTOR's emotion in a particular moment?  Isn't our job to move our audience toward thought, emotion, action?  And isn't the play itself, the production itself, simply the assembly of tools we're employing to do so?

Perhaps the role of theater practitioners, too, is to be "experts in curiosity."
Perhaps the relationship between playwright and teacher is both more direct and more...what...generous?  Humble? than I thought.