February 2008 -- Michaelson navigates international tensions with play, Benedictus. [Read more.] 

Convocation 2004

On a hot, sunny day last September, first-year students, along with faculty, staff, returning students, and friends of the College, gathered in VAPA’s Usdan Gallery for a standing-room-only speech by Danny Michaelson, drama and mediation faculty member. To underscore the theme of his talk—encouraging students to find an individual voice at Bennington—Michaelson stepped to the podium in a tuxedo and during the course of his speech, transformed first into a pirate and then Superman…. Below are excerpts of his remarks.

My name is Danny and I was a pre-judger. I hope that each of you stays open to your adventure at Bennington. Don’t dismiss people, from your roommate on. Get to know people more. Stay receptive. This is not to say that you should never make judgments, and never think critically about people, but be careful not to make an immediate pre-judgment because of how a person looks or sounds, or what that person’s name or background is, or because that person might remind you of someone else you know….

In a similar manner, as you choose courses, do not dismiss certain disciplines because you are scared by them or have not necessarily had a good experience previously. Rivera, a student who just graduated last June, came to Bennington to study literature. In her first term, her advisor suggested a dance course. Rivera had never taken a single dance step before that. “Oh no, I can’t take dance.” She developed into a fantastic, original dancer. Or Martine from Jamaica, who also just graduated. Martine studied biology here. I was her advisor. One term, there was a scheduling conflict in two of her classes, and I suggested that she take a music class with Allen Shawn. She later said to me, “Who would have believed that I would love opera?” Martine developed a passion, in a completely new field. I’m sure you’ll hear similar stories of discovering passions here. I too discovered a new passion here—mediation. I think that’s what the job of this place is. To help you discover or uncover your passions, to help you maximize your potential, to help you learn how to learn, to help you discover your voice….

Michaelson gave a bit of his childhood history…

In the second grade I fought with my teacher, Miss Meyer, for control of the class. At six I knew everything. I was sure that as the smartest person in the room, I should be leading the class. There’s a pre-judgment. Miss Meyer and I fought to the death, and she actually died at the end of the year. It is said that my name was one of the last words on her lips.

In the fourth grade I was the class clown. Mrs. Smock gave me an “N” on my report card for Needs Improvement in the category of “works and plays well with others.” I then created, and was President of, the Hate Mrs. Smock Club.

It is obvious that I had major issues involving conflict with students and teachers. Now that I work with at-risk elementary, middle and high school students through the Quantum Leap program, I realize that I was a student at-risk.

In the fifth and sixth grades I had a fabulous teacher, a mentor, Mr. Schwartzberg, who let me be me, who was interested in my creative potential. He introduced me to puppetry. I made my own puppets, built a puppet stage, designed and built scenery and costumes and co-wrote scripts. I had a small puppet troupe. Our first production was “Carmen” as an opera. My puppet troupe performed for school assemblies, local colleges and on TV. I created a giant dragon mural for the school. I studied ballet and danced my own choreography to Stravinsky’s “Firebird.” However, I was still at-risk. Although I had my small group of creative peers, I was still being beaten up or rejected by others. I got back by excluding them. In the sixth grade, I initiated a production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s “The Mikado” in order to exclude Robert, a boy in the class with the best voice, but with whom I was fighting.

The mediation teacher in Michaelson emerged as he asked members of the audience to do an exercise with their hands and arms called “chocolate kisses.” Most participants interpreted his instructions as describing an arm-wrestling match. It was not.

The point of “chocolate kisses” is that we react to situations and people we meet often not based on what the situation really is, but what it appears to be, what it reminds us of. Some of you saw what seemed to be arm wrestling. You pre-judged. We make pre-judgments based on our patterns, our history, what we already know. We assume that’s the way things are, without considering that a new solution is possible. You have a chance at Bennington, one offered daily: don’t assume.

Later, he moved on to his years at Bennington…

I think that over the years I have developed my own ability to be a flexible, creative problem solver. For the past two summers, I was invited to participate at a conference in Germany. This summer, the theme was “Violence and Satisfaction.”

Before I left, my role was unclear. When I arrived in Munich, I learned I was to be a directing and acting coach. Groups of professional and conservatory actors were given a violent situation, and had to create a scene that resolved the violence, that achieved Genuchtuung, or Satisfaction, but nonviolently. Okaaaaaay? I am not a director. I am not an actor. I’m a costume designer and I don’t speak German.

A pure Bennington moment. But I was able to work with the actors, because all of my other skills kicked in. My conflict resolution experience in mediation helped me talk about options to resolve the violence. My theater experience helped me critique the scenes independent of the language. I could tell when the rhythm, or the emotion, or the blocking was off. Moreover, I spoke to the actors like I talk to Bennington students, not giving advice directly, but asking the right questions so that they came up with the right answers. That’s of course a mediation technique as well. It all couldn’t have gone better.

Let me see if I can pull all of this together in terms of your education, your adventure.

What I was able to do in Munich is an example of what I think Bennington students and graduates can do—that is, they know how to solve problems. They learn how to take the information, the structure, the process from one area, in one discipline, and apply it to another. Bennington students often see big patterns that are useful in solving problems creatively, across disciplines. They avoid pre-judgment.

Bennington graduates do not get stuck in life. They know how to keep moving forward. They understand that their Plan, their learning, their life, is a process. They have multiple careers. When my colleague Susan Sgorbati and I did a cross-country trip meeting with students and alums, we went around the room, and each person shared what they had done at Bennington and gave a brief account of their lives since graduation. In Los Angeles, there were 50-plus people in the room, and all of the alums had really fascinating lives. The final person to speak was a woman in her 80s. After describing various wondrous and exciting things she had done, she concluded with, “Now I’m designing and flying my own experimental aircraft.”

Pulsating music came up as Michaelson took Sgorbati in his arms, and danced the tango down the aisle, through the audience, and out the door. His final words before the music began:

Don’t spend all of your time cleaning your room.

Own something made of silk.

Learn the tango.

Bienvenidos a la aventura que es Bennington.
Welcome to the adventure that is Bennington.