Written by Yi-Cheng Sun; translated by Yi-Yu Lai.
Image credit: Padawdaway Shadow Puppetry Troupe was rehearsing for the performance. Photo courtesy of Yun-Hsuan Kao(Tafong Angay).
The night following the conclusion of the 2022 National Creative Drama Competition, residents of the Ciwidiyan community (Shuilian village) learned that their representative troupe had won the Modern Shadow Puppetry Excellence Award of the Elementary School Division. The community members prepared drinks and delicacies to celebrate, eagerly awaiting the return of the students and teachers from Shuilian Elementary School. The fried chicken cutlets cooked long ago turned cold, and the elders holding congratulatory red envelopes were also a bit weary. Only when the firecrackers along the way burst into loud noises did the delight in the air, with flying paper scraps both inside and outside the houses, seem to repeatedly congratulate: “Finally, it’s here!”
The vibrant atmosphere of that night could be described as a triumphant return, as the “Padawdaway Shadow Puppetry Troupe” and their production, “Radiant Fire, Spring Mud,” had emerged victorious from a cultural and self-identity battle they had fought with themselves.
Yun-Hsuan Kao, currently teaching at Shuilian Elementary School in Shoufeng Township, Hualien County, is often referred to as Teacher Xiao Kao among friends and in the community. Coming from a mixed heritage with an Amis father and Han-Chinese mother, he also has an Amis name, Tafong Angay, which destined him to have a unique upbringing experience from a young age. This journey has involved confusion, disappointment, anger, enlightenment, and awakening. As a film enthusiast who has taught in an elementary school for the past few years, what has given him the most joy is not only his passion for visual media but also learning storyboarding, cutting props, and rehearsing with the students, who spontaneously call him “Director Kao!”
“Being a teacher is a wonderful thing. I compare my position as a teacher to that of a director in relation to the production team.” This relationship turns shadow puppetry into more than an educational method; it can even be considered part of a cultural revitalisation movement. Through light, shadow, and storytelling, teachers, students, and community members become each other’s support.
School as a Cultural Centre in the Community
Before teaching at Shuilian Elementary School, Teacher Xiao Kao taught at Jingpu Elementary School. These schools are situated in the coastal areas of Hualien County, where the students typically range from ten to fifteen in one school. Thus, with twenty-eight students, Shuilian Elementary School was the second-largest school along the coastal region.
Prior to the amendment of the “Indigenous Peoples Basic Law,” schools with fewer than twenty students could be shut down, following the Primary and Junior High School Act. However, because children are often the only young people in the Indigenous communities, the school became the gathering place for the entire community’s young population. It played a crucial role as a cultural centre, directly affecting the rise or decline of Indigenous culture.
Schools in Indigenous communities serve as places for fulfilling the constitutionally mandated obligation of education and as venues for inter-community sports events, festivals, and cultural activities. They are gathering places for elders, returning youth, and young children alike. Teacher Xiao Kao recalls that in the nearby Kaluluwan community, the school was shut down due to having fewer than twenty students. Consequently, the traditional Harvest Festival and Sea Festival were reduced, and the community members had fewer reasons to gather and return to their hometowns, creating a sense of rapid decline and ageing within the entire community.
Fortunately, in recent years, under the protection of the “Education Act for Indigenous Peoples,” decisions regarding the closure of schools must be made through meetings and consensus from the communities. However, teachers in the Indigenous communities continue to confront obstacles posed by urban development, significant population outmigration, the establishment of national schools, and the implementation of national laws.
“I Used to Think Elementary School Teachers Were Rubbish, and Now That’s What I’ve Become”
Growing up as an urban Indigenous individual, Teacher Xiao Kao neither lived in an Indigenous community nor identified strongly with the Han-Chinese ethnicity. He always found himself in an in-between position in the city or the Indigenous community. Reflecting on his experience in the sixth grade when he attended an art-featured class, he recalls his teacher’s unabashed prejudice and discrimination. He said, “I had a terrible teacher when I was young, so I vowed never to become an elementary school teacher.”
However, years later, he has become the art teacher and director of an elementary school, where he has understood the hurtful words from the past. He describes the harm inflicted by that art teacher years ago as a turning point that prompted him to pursue a master’s degree in Indigenous Affairs and Development while teaching, hoping to find legal and policy-based solutions to improve the social conditions of Indigenous communities. Despite the challenges, he now finds joy in his work. Every step he takes in becoming a teacher in the Indigenous and artistic realms has taken him far from his initial ideals, yet they have coincidentally converged.
Being a Director and a “Sensei”
To understand why he works with his students on shadow puppetry, we cannot ignore his passion for film, which was ignited by general education courses and filmmaking experiences during his undergraduate years. At that time, his greatest aspiration was to be an artist and creator. However, due to his family’s insistence that he enrol in a public-funded art teacher training programme, he not only rebelled against his family but also spent four years in a state of “ferocious frustration.”
Perhaps influenced by the general atmosphere of formal art education, he also believed, “I became a teacher because I was incapable of attaining artistic accomplishments. That was my mindset at the time. I had such thoughts about the teaching profession. I wasn’t someone who wanted to be a teacher.” Though the exact reasons behind this mindset are no longer traceable, this stigmatisation of education and teachers remains prevalent throughout the development of artists and art teachers.
During his college years, he realised that filmmaking was a structured form of art that allowed creators the freedom to express themselves within that framework, and this was exactly what he enjoyed—an opportunity to collaborate with a group of people within a specific framework. More importantly, within this framework, he and his film crew partners explored and created together, with no one possessing absolute knowledge or leadership. Instead, they collectively formed a community of creation and learning. This marked the beginning of his dream to become a director. It shaped his educational philosophy and provided him with enough life experience as a foundation. It enabled him to develop a teaching approach resembling that of a film crew in his role as an educator.
“I really like how teachers are referred to as ‘sensei’ in Japan. ‘Sensei’ means I was just born before you, so I may be your senior in some aspects, but there are areas where I may not have much knowledge, so we can learn from each other and exchange ideas. The relationship between me and my students is more like this. I expect the children to show respect, which is basic, but apart from that, if there are things I say wrong or don’t understand, you can still discuss with me. I believe in this interactive and collaborative approach. It’s similar to when an actor reads your script and provides feedback to make it better. It’s a very enjoyable process for me.”
In Teaching and Creation, We Are the Same
What is most touching is not the common educational principle of “student-centeredness” but rather the fact that teachers and students, through mutual learning and creation, become a community in the journey of exploration, expression, and breakthrough. They do not prioritise either party but rather engage in reciprocal subjectivity.
When he started teaching at Jingpu Elementary School, it was not so much that he was the teacher; rather, the students already skilled in shadow puppetry were more like his teachers. He was learning shadow puppetry from the children through confirmation and experimentation. He later developed performance forms most suitable for the Indigenous school, creating a foundation that allows students to express themselves fully.
One student with language impairment became an irreplaceable voice actor in the play “Cunning Giant Alikakay” at Jingpu Elementary School. She accomplished the voice acting for five distinct characters in the play using pre-recorded sounds. Eventually, she and others came to recognise her exceptional talent in voice acting, despite her struggles with everyday conversation. He believes that shadow puppetry is suitable for Indigenous schools because children in the Indigenous community often lack self-confidence. A secure and expressive environment can be created for them to perform and express themselves through light and shadow.
In addition, behind his aspiration as a director, he has realised that he may have been driven by a sense of inferiority, always struggling to express himself freely as an individual artist. He has come to recognise the need for affirmation and support from his partners. As he puts it, teaching is not just “teaching, just like directing a play,” but it also provides self-realisation for the teacher, while students serve as a constant source of energy, like “batteries,” always giving him full support.
His students’ growth, encouragement, and the teaching process resembling a production all contribute to his self-assurance. They act as a protective curtain, providing him with a sense of security, much like protecting a child with low self-confidence. In summarising his sentiment, he concludes, “In reality, we are the same. Perhaps, like me, I also want to hide behind the scenes.”
A Complete Journey of Creation
Teacher Xiao Kao once told the children during the competition, “Our goal is not to be the first in the country but to perform until the elders cry!” He said this for a reason. The play that won the Award actually tells the history of the Sakizaya tribe, who migrated to the Ciwidiyan and experienced conflicts and interactions with various ethnic groups throughout history. It contains the unspoken blood and tears left behind in time, as well as the rapid disappearance of tribal and ethnic migration history. For him, shadow puppetry is a process of self-identity establishment for the Indigenous children and holds significance for the entire community in terms of heritage and reaffirming cultural identity.
Therefore, after bringing back the National Award to the community, the children performed again for the elders, parents, villagers, and the “Men’s Night” during the Harvest Festival. From the preparation, teaching, rehearsals, competition, award, and community tour, the overwhelming gratitude and excitement expressed by the entire community brought them together again. This series of processes is the occurrence of creation, the true “complete creation.”
Yi-Cheng SUN, born in 1990, lives and works in Taipei, Taiwan. She is an independent curator, community contributor and lecturer at NTUH. Her recent interests include cross-disciplinary (Art & Science) collaborative approaches, critical pedagogy and artist-teacher.
This article was published as part of a special issue on The Artist-Teachers in Taiwan.
Taiwan Insight 