Space for Everyone's Story 
Cherith Lundin, M.F.A., Associate Professor of Art, Department Chair
In preparation for the CACE seminar, we were asked to write a paragraph about something no one at Wheaton knows about us. Since theater faculty were leading this exercise, I assumed that we would be asked to share this with the group. Having never taken a theater class, I was, however, completely unprepared for the kicker of the assignment: instead of reading our own paragraph, we were given someone else’s – without knowing who wrote it – to memorize and perform as if the words were ours on our first day together.
While serving as a great introduction to the topic of “Performing Identity, Authority and Community,” what really struck me about this activity was the way in which it involved all individuals in the room. Everyone participated. I’m pretty sure everyone was nervous. Everyone was equally ‘in the dark’ (not knowing whose story they had, who had theirs, and who was telling whose). Everyone’s story was heard. We were invited to be equally vulnerable, equally uncertain, equally successful (we did it!)
We moved from there to other conversations that followed the more typical discussion format of a large group: whoever would like to talk talks. In contrast to the theater exercise, this more traditional, freeform format played into accustomed roles: there are the ones who will never talk first, and the ones who will usually talk first. The ones who will talk long or often, and those who will likely not talk at all. (We all know who we are!)
What shapes these dynamics? Even in a group of highly educated, highly competent experts? Personality certainly, but also socialization. As a group of twenty or so faculty, fairly evenly split between women and men, it wasn’t a surprise that the divide between “early-and-often” and “maybe-or-rarely” speakers tended to map onto gender.
A freeform discussion structure encourages and relies upon our individual willingness, comfort level, and prior experience with bringing things to a group. The theater exercise showed another way, in which the structure of a game equalized participation and plunged us into discovery and newness. There is both logic and artificiality to a game, including rules, boundaries, a format, uncertainty, achievability, and humor. Unlike a game with a winner, in this instance, participation itself was success. Readiness to play was an act of generosity. Play was the tool. Playing was the purpose. Play equalized power dynamics, created community, and encouraged exploration.
I came away wishing for a larger toolbox of methodologies for shaping group interaction and learning in the classroom that would similarly promote participatory discovery by and with all members of the group. I know there are practices and wisdom from all of our disciplines to share, and my guess is that certain disciplines, like theater, or education, have a wealth of research and knowledge in this regard that would truly benefit the rest of us. If someone would like to lead an Advanced Faith and Learning Seminar on this, sign me up!