From Center Stage to Center for the Future of Learning
- Andy Lott
- Apr 16
- 5 min read
Key Insights
Learning feels different when it’s real.
The stories we tell shape how we see learning.
Summary (TLDR)
Learning becomes transformational when it feels real, connected, and purposeful—just like stepping onto a stage. By amplifying the stories of young people, we can shift how we understand learning and design environments where every learner can grow, connect, contribute, and thrive.
The Spotlight and the Classroom
In my sophomore year of high school, I starred in Honk! The Musical as the Ugly Duckling. It was my biggest role yet, and my entrance was unforgettable. When the curtain rose, I was hidden inside a giant egg at center stage. The music built, the anticipation swelled, and then—crack! The shell split open, and I stepped into the light.
The audience was right there with me, watching as I navigated a world that saw me as different. The story was about transformation, about discovering where I belonged. But for me, it wasn’t just a performance. It was the kind of learning that felt alive.
The next morning, I walked into my classroom, back into a space where I was just another student in a row of desks. No music, no anticipation, no clear connection to why any of it mattered. The stage had given me purpose, something real to strive for. But in school, learning felt like a performance of a different kind. One where I was expected to follow the script, play the role of a good student, and complete the assignments without fully understanding why.
I wasn’t resisting. I wasn’t even questioning it. I was just performing the way I thought I was supposed to. Class to class, assignment to assignment, disconnected from what it all meant.
Beyond the Script
On stage I poured everything into my performance, practicing for hours to get it just right. That process wasn’t just about memorization. It was about refining, iterating, and pushing myself to improve. It was about understanding how movement and voice could create meaning, how storytelling could connect an audience to something deeper, and how feedback, both internal and external, was an essential part of growth.
That work didn’t just shape me as a performer. It shaped how I understood learning. The ability to take risks, receive feedback, and refine my craft became second nature. It gave me a sense of ownership over my growth, something I rarely felt in traditional academic spaces. It was this kind of learning, dynamic, iterative, and deeply personal, that carried me beyond high school, leading me to earn a BFA in Dance and tour the country on Broadway national tours.
And so, the question emerged. Why did I feel like I had learned and accomplished so much in one space and so little in the other?
When Learning Feels Real
On stage, learning was clear. If I missed a step, I adjusted. If I wasn’t good enough, I had to get better. Every rehearsal was proof of progress. And when the curtain rose, there was no hiding. I either knew it, or I didn’t.
In the classroom, that clarity was missing. I didn’t know how to advocate for myself, how to find meaning in the work, or how to express what I needed to stay engaged. No one had ever told me that was an option. I wasn’t resisting learning. I just wasn’t connected to it. And because I didn’t know how to tell that story, no one else could see it either.
And though the stage was my most powerful classroom, what I truly fell in love with wasn’t just performing. It was the power of creating something meaningful, of engaging people, of learning by doing. That realization led me back to education, this time on the other side of the stage. As a public high school performing arts educator, I watched young people experience the same kind of transformative learning I had. I saw students who struggled in traditional classrooms come alive in rehearsal, finding confidence in their creativity, in their ability to collaborate, and in their drive to push past their own limitations.
Over time, I realized that the lessons I had gained from the stage about agency, about connection, about how learning is most powerful when it is purposefully extended far beyond the arts. They are the same principles that shape the future of learning itself.
This is why Nevada’s shared vision for young people, the Portrait of a Nevada Learner, matters. It challenges us to think beyond traditional measures and instead invites learners to ask:
How will I grow in my learning? (Empowering)
How do I build and sustain relationships and community? (Connecting)
How will I contribute to make an impact? (Impacting)
How will I thrive? (Thriving)
These are the questions every young person deserves the opportunity to explore.
At the Center for the Future of Learning, we believe that storytelling is a critical part of this shift. When young people’s stories go unheard, their experiences remain unseen. That is why CFL Amplify Studio exists—not just to share stories, but to challenge assumptions, expand our understanding of learning, and ensure that brilliance is recognized in all its forms.
Join Us in Amplifying Stories That Matter
Stories change the way we see learning. They help us understand what is working, what needs to evolve, and how we can build an education system that values all the ways young people grow.
Here’s how you can be part of the CFL Story Studio:
Read and share the stories of our community. Stories are meant to be heard. Explore the experiences of young people, educators, and communities who are shaping the future of learning.
Connect us with stories worth telling. Think of someone you know making an impact in learning. We want to hear about them. Send this to them and copy @andy@nvcfl.org.
Share your own learning journey. Your story—whether about a defining moment in your education, a challenge you overcame, or an experience that changed your perspective—deserves to be heard.
Together, we can ensure that every young person has the chance to be empowered, connected, impactful, and thriving in their learning.
I’ll leave you with this. What is the most powerful learning experience you have ever had? And more importantly, what would education look like if we designed it to create more of those moments?
Because when the curtain rises and the lights come on, every young person deserves to feel seen, ready, and capable of stepping into their brilliance.
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Andy Lott is the Managing Director of Storytelling at the Center for the Future of Learning.
