Questions, by Nicole Krauch, Class of 2006


Questions brought me to the teacher training program. I never really articulated it to myself then, but in hindsight I can now give form to these questions: What does a living education look like? And how can self-awareness be taught to children in an appropriate manner?

Similar questions led me through college when I studied performance, body awareness and dance: What does a living performance look like? How can I cultivate presence and awareness in the performers I am directing? Questions are how I lead my life. They give me focus, direction, and meaning. I am constantly researching the answers to my questions. The funny thing about this whole process is that I never really find the answers. It feels more like the questions - if I love them enough - work themselves through me, changing my chemistry, my matter. Therefore, the answers don't appear as "packages" that can be very well articulated. They appear in how I move in the world. They appear in the quality of my heartbeat, voice, gestures, laugh and gaze.

At the moment I am trying to have patience with myself; to allow the questions to really live, grow, and breathe within me. Often during the teacher training I had to remind myself to be patient with myself. I frequently had to remind myself that I couldn't be a master immediately.

My understanding is that questions are most alive in the in-between spaces. While preparing us for the performance of Homer's "Odyssey" this summer, Sibylle often spoke about the silences being just as important as the words themselves. How my colleagues and I moved inwardly during the in-breaths determined how the words and phrases connected to each other. Sometimes Sibylle would even ask us questions during the in-breath moments. For example, I would say "Thus did she speak, then drawing..." and she would prompt me by asking, "What was being drawn? How was it being drawn? From where was it being drawn?" These questions would lead me to say the next part of the verse with more intention and with a quality that matched the content of the words.

I have found that questioning, though often silent, provides the fluidity needed to connect actions and thoughts. I guess one could say that the act of questioning actually creates a kind of yolk-like solution that unites the parts together. Questions give birth to quests, and in true "questing" life vibrates in the dynamic tension of the in-between.