Rant: Acting teachers are a bunch of douche bags!

Feb 12, 2008 - 22:51 PM PST

So if the title didn't deter you, then I don't suppose much else will, but I had a terrible experience at school today. And I'm going to share it with you.

Now, to recap, I'm a student at the Vancouver Film School. I'm in the Writing Department. Notice that doesn't say "acting department". That's because I'm not an actor. I used to act in high school, and that was enough for me to realize that it wasn't for me. I know that there are people that like it and that's great. They can do the work. I'll just write it.

Also, I need to preface this story to let you know the mood that I was in. Because otherwise, this will sound crazier than it already is. So I've had a bit of a stressful week at school. And last night only amplified that. Last night I went to a poetry slam to find a poet to interview. I'm running down to the wire of last minute interview subjects for my journalism class. We have to interview a local artist of some renown.. Everyone I've been interested in interviewing either doesn't respond, or the can't do it in the time frame. This is the last week for me to get it. Stuff is due this Friday. So I go last night in a last ditch effort to find someone to interview at this slam. The slam was packed as it was a "Pan-African Slam" whatever that means. But it was for Black History month. I was actually kind of excited, as I have an interest in subtle societal racism and who better to talk to? Long story short, I stayed for a long time and didn't get an interview and I got home really late to come to this class in the morning that I normally don't have. I also have deadlines that I have to work on. I've already decided this is a waste of my time.

So I come to this class this morning called "Improv Collaboration" as in, it's a collaboration with the acting department. So there are two acting teachers that come in to teach us how to "write" improv. Which is just a ridiculous concept. And I'm having a bad day. The teachers show up late by about ten minutes. Then they talk to us like you'd expect elementary teachers to talk to students about acting.

It was REALLY condescending, and it had that air of fake praise built into it. I guess that's what the acting students need, but we're fucking writers and it was really insulting. So after about 20 minutes of that, they decide that we need to talk half an hour to "free fall" write. Which is really just free association writing, but "free fall" writing sounds more intense I guess. And we all have to write about the Prairies. And they show us each a specific picture out of a book for inspiration. How fucking stupid is this? It was worse this morning as I'm sleep deprived and my only day off this week is stolen from me by this stupid class.

So I write. But I'm not writing about the fucking prairies. I can't. I'm too pissed off about having to be in this class. So that's what I write about. Two solid pages about how pissed off I am about how stupid this exercise is and how stupid these teachers are and how condescending they're being. Because I'm angry. I'm not happy about it.

And then, they ask for volunteers to share. My thought is simple. "I'm not sharing this. I don't want to bring the mood of the room down." A couple of people share, and when my classmates finally stop volunteering, they decide they want to call on people. The woman looks at me (I know I have a perpetual scowl on my face) and she says "I want to know what he wrote". I politely, but sternly, say "No. I don't want to share what I have written here." But she insists and asks why.

"It's not very productive. I'm very corrosive today."

These fucking actor bitches are so impressed that I would describe myself as corrosive. And teh guy chimes in and starts yelling at me "Well, you're going to fail as a writer then. You have to open up in a room for a pitch or you're going to be poor and alone!" He seriously said these words to me. I was seething at this point and it was tense in the room. I said "I'm not going to read what I wrote!"

He sternly says "You don't have a choice. We're just going to wait."

And no one says anything. My fists are clenched and I'm red in the face. I'm about to scream. I want so badly to read every insulting thing I have written on my page and then storm out of the room.

The condescending fuck then tells me to breathe. And I very nearly snapped. I can feel it, and I know my classmates can feel it. They know and recognize that I'm volatile at this point.

I don't snap. I look him straight in the eye and don't look at my page. I then tell him some very negative feelings I have about the so-called fucking "prairies" and how it's easy in remote areas to be an intolerant prick because there isn't anyone around to contend with you.

These acting teachers are amazed. They think it's a breakthrough. All I did was lie. That's part of my job as a writer. To take my contention and mold it into a story. He was too dense to recognize that I was talking about him. I sit through the class and don't say another fucking word. But during the break I was so angry that I was shaking. I so very badly wanted to hit that rat bastard in the face and storm out of that room. It would've been great.

I'm not condemning them completely, but they were stupid douche bag acting teachers (maybe I am condemning them completely. It's fine, I have no respect for them). I try really hard to be open about other points of view, but the mentality that they would have to be in is like borderline functioning retarded. They were so fake and irritating. Such glamor hogs and they did these bogus pseudo psycho-analytical reviews of us as people after our snippets of free association. They were way off base too.

They asked one of my classmates, "wow, that was amazing! Do you read fiction? You do, don't you?"
Are you serious?! We're fucking WRITERS! Of course we read fiction! We write this shit, we better be reading it.

Another one was my classmate Trystan shared that he was raised in a posh suburban home and never had to do manual labor a day in his life, and he thought it'd be interesting to be a mill worker or something in the prairies. The teacher says "Wow. Let me stop you there. Do you realize how brave you are? Do you know how brave that was to admit that about yourself?"

Several of my classmates left after the break and went to the TA to tel them "fail us if you must, we aren't taking this class." It's really that bad.

I'm going to take it. Mostly because I'm stubborn and I don't want some douche bag acting teacher to think that I "couldn't handle it". It'll also give me a chance to tell him what I really think about him, which I failed to do.

And, it makes me really angry. And I write well when it comes from anger.