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Professionals working in the theatre education sector are traditionally underpaid and overworked but are not lacking in passion and enthusiasm. Catherine Rose explains.

The definition of theatre education is an extremely broad one. It embraces a wide range of different professionals, through venue and company education managers, actors, directors, facilitators, designers, writers, consultants and project managers. All these categories include freelance and employed people, some of them running their own theatre companies with a specialist area of work. The work they do is equally broad. In the year since the launch of the Theatre Education Network (TEN), we?ve learnt a lot about the hopes and needs of professionals working in the sector, but we still find it difficult to devise categories that adequately describe the activities of all our members ? and we don?t want to leave anyone out.

Expectations

Arts education of all kinds has filtered into social, personal and health agendas over the past ten to twelve years, due in part to successive Labour governments backing what is sometimes termed the ?instrumental? use of the arts. Yet the expectation that theatre can improve some of society?s most intractable problems ? stop bullying, haul a disaffected youngster out of danger or bring different ethnic groups to a new mutual understanding ? has yet to be followed by a rise in the status of theatre education profession. This is not to say that the work goes unappreciated by the recipients: there is ample evidence that taking part in theatre education can be a positive, life-changing and, even, life-rescuing experience. Theatre educators seem to hold very high expectations for their participants and colleagues in terms of what they can achieve through theatre, but very low expectations for themselves, at least in the area of their own deserts. The low monetary value which is placed on their work has not been accepted without question by the profession, but there seems to have been little they can do about it. Perhaps it?s a cliché to imagine a disciplined, gifted and hard-working actor holding a group of ?difficult? youngsters in the palm of their hand, while the grateful teacher looks on ? but it?s downright hurtful to realise that the actor is being paid around half what the teacher is getting. Most do not dwell on it: the dedication shown by the theatre education professionals is almost cheesily inspiring.

Make it pay

A discussion with an enthusiastic and supportive Equity officer in the run-up to the launch of TEN taught me an interesting lesson. I asked about pay-scales for education work: he told me that workshops were often included in the package for a show. I asked about larger-scale education projects involving a series of workshops: he told me that workshops were often included in the package for a show. I asked about theatre professionals whose core work was tending away from traditional forms and more into educational and community work: you can guess what he told me. Despite his keenness to find common ground, the rigidity of thought and lack of understanding of the professional lives of so many theatre workers was depressing.

Practitioners themselves accept that they are not only lowly paid, but are actually underpaid for the work they do. Some are astonishingly well qualified: two, or even three, degree-level qualifications are by no means unknown. Many have undertaken extra training such as British Sign Language courses, unpaid work with disabled people to gain insight into their needs, and management and fundraising training to enable them to extend and support their work. It can easily be seen just how little a job description can mean to these multi-talented, multi-tasking, open-all-hours professionals.

Pressure and support

These workers also experience other pressures created by the health and safety society. It is quite right that people working with children should be vetted by the Criminal Records Bureau. Yet how many of us know about the sheer mountain of bureaucracy facing teachers or care workers who want to bring groups to workshops? A children?s theatre company recently told me that a special school teacher had said, with tears in his eyes, that his school couldn?t attend any more events. For each participating child, three different risk-assessment forms had to be filled in before they even set foot in the minibus, and the staff just couldn?t cope with the paperwork.

On the positive side, government initiatives are a source of new money, but they can also be the cause of some frustration. Schemes such as Creative Partnerships, which are well-resourced and offer so much, can appear impenetrable to those not on the inside track. Organising projects to fit available funding, a perennial hazard of arts management, is no less an artistic pitfall for theatre educators. Making the voice of the profession heard, for example in response to the Government?s latest Green Paper, Youth Matters, can take a lot of time and effort, and may not be well rewarded.

Future

However, it?s not completely right that an overview of theatre education should just be an extended whinge on behalf of those who work in that field. The profession is a powerhouse of energy and ideas, and it may be that a lack of confidence prevents its practitioners from seeing themselves as the asset to society they clearly are. TEN hopes to be part of a force to counteract this, helping to show the impact and the benefits that these vital and creative talents can provide.

Catherine Rose is Director of the Theatre Education Network.
t: 01223 200210; e: info@theatre-ed.net;
w: http://www.theatre-ed.net