The Power of Play: How Theatricality Strengthens Social Skills Counseling

     Lately I’ve been giving some thought to the roles that theatricality and self-expression play in our work running social skills groups at Academy MetroWest. When you think about the field of counseling and the counselors who practice it, theatricality and expressiveness aren’t usually the first personality traits that come to mind. Most people think of counselors as being a relatively restrained bunch, more comfortable speaking quietly and gently than being loud or demonstrative. My staff all know that they’re going to be spending more time chasing kids around in a gym pretending to be dinosaurs, than having quiet conversations in an office pretending to be Sigmund Freud.  When you’re working with clients individually, there’s nothing to get in the way of quiet, introverted counselors doing effective work. In our setting, however, muted and unassuming just won’t cut it.

There are a couple of reasons for that. The first one becomes pretty obvious when you step foot in our gym during group time. Owing to the social skills focus of our groups, a big chunk of our population comes to us with diagnoses of ADHD, ASD, and other issues in which behavior and emotional regulation may be compromised. At any time, our gym may have up to 12 kids and 4 adults in it and – there’s no way around it – it can get loud. On a very pragmatic level, counselors need to be able to project their voices if they have any hope of keeping their clients safe or getting them started on a group agenda.

The other factor behind the imperative of being loud and expressive involves elements of behavior management but also incorporates concern self-image. When I try to put myself in the shoes of our kids, I envision a barrage of stimuli – noise, movement, and other distractions – as competing for their attention. When I’m running a group, my goal is to win that competition.  The obvious way of doing that is by setting firm, clear, concise, and consistent limits. Without getting kids’ attention, we won’t be able to get to the more interesting and supportive aspects of counseling simply because those efforts will get buried under all the noise. But relying solely on limit setting as a means of behavior management comes with risks. Kids with ADHD and other neurodevelopmental issues spend a lot of time on the receiving end of limits. Even when the limits they hear are set in the most effective, positive way possible, at a certain point kids are going to hear the message as “You screwed up again and now you’re in trouble.” So when it comes to limit setting, adults need to balance out the necessity of helping to manage behavior versus the risk of becoming “part of the problem” in the minds of their kids.

This is where theatricality and self-expression come in. When our counselors address a group and they can capture the participants’ attention through being silly, expressive, or just projecting a presence, they go a long way in managing group behavior without having to rely solely on setting limits. Our staff has always had its fair share of frustrated actors, musicians, and other creative types who have been able to use their talents and interests as a way of engaging our kids and helping them manage their behavior in a non-punitive and positive way.

It was with this oddly theatrical skill set at my disposal that I recently got involved in a fun venture. Early this month, my temple staged a production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I auditioned for the play back in December and was fortunate to get two parts in the production. If you’re unfamiliar with this musical, it’s based on the biblical story of Joseph. Joseph was the son of Jacob and was favored by his father over his 11 brothers. Joseph’s brothers develop an understandable feeling of resentment for him and Jospeh is taken to Egypt and they sell him into slavery. Joseph’s resilience (and luck) enables him to rise from bondage to become one of the pharoah’s important advisors. In the end, everything works out. I played Jacob’s brother Naphtali as well as a wealthy Egyptian named Potiphar, for whom Jacob worked briefly as a slave. My role as Naphtali was an ensemble part with no featured lines or solos but a lot of singing and dancing together with the other brothers. Potiphar, on the other hand, gets a brief but memorable turn in the spotlight as a somewhat over-the-top rich man with a wife who takes a liking to Joseph.

I found the process of learning and developing my role as Potiphar to be pretty straightforward. There wasn’t any dancing in that role and the singing and acting required little in the way of subtlety. Really all I needed to do was ham it up. When other members of the cast remarked on how well I played that part, I told them that it was really just an extension of the theatricality and goofiness that I put into my role as a group leader. Subtlety doesn’t really work all that well with kids and I’ve got 30+ years of work-related experience being a show-off with them to fall back on.

But then there was my part as Joseph’s brother Naphtali. I spent much more time onstage as this character than I did as Potiphar. I had much more singing and blocking to remember in this role and it involved dancing. Lots of dancing. When rehearsal began, the show’s choreographer asked all of us to tell her what kind of experience we had with dance. My answer was “Well…sometimes when I walk, I don’t fall down.” I’m not remotely graceful and no part of dancing comes naturally to me. As we began practicing during the winter, it was my role as Naphtali and, specifically, all the dancing that came with it, that made me nervous and unsure of myself.

But I’m happy to say, after more than 3 months of rehearsals, it all turned out beautifully. Even with dancing. I worked hard to learn my steps. For most of the songs, I was not a featured dancer and, at times, I could “hide” in the back row. But, most importantly, I was on the receiving end of the same type of supportive teaching that we try to use at Academy MetroWest. The directors and choreographers knew that they were not working with professional performers. They were very patient and made sure to place at least as much emphasis on the progress we were making as they did on the mistakes we made. In the end, their message could be boiled down to “Try your best. Be yourself. Think about what you do and how it affects the rest of the cast.” With that type of feedback, it became much easier to leave my comfort zone and develop some new skills. I’m not going to be quitting my day job for a career as a dancer anytime soon but if the opportunity to get involved in another play like Joseph comes along, you can count me in.

My grandparents used to have a framed quote on their wall that said “Use what talents you possess. The woods would be very silent if no birds sang there except those that sang best.” In the case of me and dancing, I still don’t think the woods will suffer if this particular bird decides not to inflict his dancing on everyone. But it’s nice to know that I can do it, and enjoy myself in the process.