Theater as a Bridge: Harmonizing Freedom of Expression and Educational Needs at School

How many times, as educators or simply as attentive parents, have we observed that somewhat disorienting "leap" children experience as they transition from one school cycle to the next? Imagine the scene: a child who until June was immersed in an environment, like preschool, where the watchwords were exploration, unbridled creativity, and art as a daily game . A place where, as Maria Montessori said, "Play is the child's work." Then, in September, the same child finds himself in a primary school, perhaps with teachers—though excellent ones—who are rightly anchored to a curriculum and specific learning objectives, requiring more controlled behavior and focused, sustained attention from the outset.

It's almost inevitable: children feel disoriented and uncomfortable. And who can blame them? Veritable "contrast equations" are created, the result of marked differences in the pedagogical interpretations of different schools. This isn't a judgment of merit on one approach over another, but an observation: the transition can be abrupt. And the problem recurs, with varying degrees, even in the transition to secondary school, when children, now adolescents, are asked to make a further leap toward autonomy and responsibility, perhaps after years of a more guided approach.

How, then, can we find a sustainable balance between promoting freedom of expression and the necessary demand for attention and expertise ? How can we build a bridge that makes these transitions less traumatic, enhancing the growth process in its entirety? I firmly believe that theatre, in this sense, can offer us a valuable model, almost a living laboratory.

The misunderstanding of "ethereal" creativity and the concreteness of theatrical "doing"

Theatre is often associated with a somewhat hazy, almost purely intellectual idea of creativity, or, conversely, with a "make-believe" without rules. Nothing could be further from the reality of serious theatrical practice. Theatre, in fact, is the place where the concrete and the creative meet beautifully .

And here we come to a concept very dear to me: creativity is something concrete. "To create" is a verb of action, not (just) of thought. As the great educator John Dewey reminds us, we truly learn through experience, through doing: "Learning by doing." In theater, this is clear. It's not enough to conceive of scenes, stories, characters: you have to bring them to life . You have to give them body, voice, movement. You have to confront reality, the abysmal difference that exists—as the proverb says—between saying and doing. Or, in this case, between thinking and doing.

The great master Jerzy Grotowski, speaking of his "poor theater," placed the actor and his action, his "physical and vocal score," at the center. There is no room for approximation if one wishes to truly communicate. Every gesture, every intention must be precise, heartfelt, and enacted.

The theater: a training ground for life (and school)

Let's think carefully: what does a theater workshop, even the simplest one, require?

1. Listening and Attention: To improvise together, to construct a choral scene, to follow the director's or instructor's directions, it's essential to know how to actively listen and maintain high concentration. Isn't that what we ask for in school?

2. Respect for Rules and Times: Every theatrical game, every exercise, has rules. There are times to respect, spaces to share, turns to take. This "discipline" is not sterilely imposed from above, but is functional to the success of the game itself, of the creative act. As Lev Vygotsky said about play, "In play, the child always behaves above his average age, above his usual behavior; in play, he is as if a head taller than himself." The rules of theatrical play encourage this growth.

3. Conscious Management of Emotions: Theatre doesn't ask us to repress emotions, but to recognize, explore, and channel them expressively. It's a powerful form of emotional education, helping develop what Daniel Goleman calls "emotional intelligence," crucial for individual and relational well-being.

4. Collaboration and Point of View: Theatre is intrinsically a collective art. You learn to work together, to trust others, to build something that goes beyond your individual contribution. Playing a character, then, forces you to put yourself in someone else's shoes, to broaden your horizons, to understand the multiplicity of points of view.

5. Concreteness and Problem Solving: The idea isn't working? The scene isn't "flowing"? You need to find solutions, try again, retry, adjust your aim. Theatre teaches concreteness, the constant verification of intention and outcome.

Peter Brook, in his famous "The Empty Space," writes: "I can take any space and call it a stage. One man walks through this space while another observes it: that is all that is needed for a theatrical act to occur." Within this apparent simplicity lies a world of concrete intentions, actions, and relationships.

A Theatrical "Fil Rouge" for Different School Levels

How, then, can this "theatrical philosophy" help us create continuity in the scholastic curriculum?

• In preschool: You can propose games involving physical expression, fairy tale dramatizations, and small guided improvisations that, while maintaining a playful and free-form approach, begin to introduce listening to others, taking turns, sharing a space and a common action.

• In primary school: You can move on to more structured exercises, the collective creation of short stories, and character exploration. "Drama" can become a tool for learning other subjects in a more engaging and concrete way (history, literature, civics). The focus also gradually shifts to the quality of gestures and words.

• In secondary school: Students can tackle more complex texts, work on in-depth character analysis, collective direction, and critical awareness of theatrical language. Here, the discipline required by theatrical "making" (commitment, consistency, precision) becomes even more evident and formative.

The goal isn't to transform all students into professional actors, let's be clear. Rather, it's to use the methodology and principles of theater to cultivate those transversal skills—attention, listening, collaboration, embodied creativity, and the ability to address and solve real-world problems—that are essential for successfully navigating not only school, but life itself.

Conclusion: Sublimation in the "Theatrical Gesture"

Theatre, with its marvelous ability to unite mind, body, and emotion, teaches us that creativity, to be fully expressed, requires concreteness, a clash with matter, with limitations, and then transcends them. It finds its sublimation in the creation of the theatrical gesture, the accomplished theatrical act , which is always the fruit of a thought, an emotion, but also of meticulous work, inner discipline, and a profound connection with others.

Perhaps integrating this more embodied and conscious approach into our educational programs could truly help our children and young people experience school transitions not as fractures, but as stages in a single, coherent, and exciting journey of growth. A journey where freedom of expression and structured demands are not polar opposites, but essential allies for taking flight. As Aristotle wisely stated in his Poetics , theater is "mimesis," the imitation of an action, and through this performance one can achieve "catharsis," a form of purification and profound understanding. And what is education, if not a path toward a deeper understanding of oneself and the world?