How Emergency Teaching Made Me a Better Actor
Emergency teaching wasn’t part of the plan. But in the early days, between gigs and before Moore Acting Instinct really took off, I found myself standing in front of high school students who’d rather throw paper planes than engage in drama games. And yet, this unexpected detour reshaped my craft. Emergency teaching changed the way I relate to performance, communication, and people. It made me a more grounded actor — and a more effective drama coach.
When I started as Paul Moore the teacher, not just Paul Moore the actor, I confronted raw chaos daily. Unpredictable energy, different student needs, loud classrooms. And although it wasn’t a set or rehearsal space, every class required presence, agility, and emotional honesty. Everything I now teach actors about listening fully and reacting truthfully — I learned first among chalkboards, bells, and detentions.
Why Actors Should Do Hard Things (Like Teach)
Actors often train in polished rooms where stakes feel contained. But teaching high-stress environments tests your instincts instantly. You can’t fake authority — or connection — in front of 28 teenagers. You have to feel it, earn it, and embody it. This, ironically, mirrors truth on set or stage. Whether you’re in your first agent meeting or filming a close-up, authenticity is your survival tool.
Back then, when I wasn’t on location for Rostered On (streamed on Netflix) or reworking scenes for Stashamo High, I studied my students as much as they studied me. Some days, I’d walk out shattered. But every day, I left more flexible — my nerves sharper, my tools stronger. And those lessons now fuel how I coach at Moore Acting Instinct.
Studio Story: Silence That Spoke Volumes
Last winter, I coached a 19-year-old actor who froze mid-scene. She’d rehearsed well, knew her lines, but then — blank. The room paused. Instead of prompting her, I let silence stretch. That moment mirrored what I’d learned managing tension in a tough classroom: hold space without rushing to fix it. Eventually, she spoke — softer, deeper, truer. The entire class leaned in.
Afterward, another student whispered, “That pause taught me more than any note ever could.”
We don’t act by filling space. We act by responding to it.
Try This Today (5 minutes)
- Set a timer for one minute of intentional silence.
- Stand in a neutral position and imagine someone has just challenged your character’s core belief.
- Without moving or speaking, let your body respond naturally.
- Observe what emotions rise. Resist the urge to act — just be.
- After a minute, deliver a single line from your script — fully present.
- Journal what the silence taught you.
Teaching as Feedback Loop
Emergency teaching also helped me develop an actor’s radar. Reading a room, shifting tone, adjusting pace — this feedback loop became second nature. Translating that into screen work made my performances tighter. As Wes Fitzpatrick on Winners and Losers, those instincts saved takes and made editors’ lives easier.
Mentoring actors now, I often remind them: every experience is part of your artist’s data bank. Even the ones you resist. If you’re ever asked to cover a class or teach a workshop — say yes. You’ll gain more than a paycheck. You’ll refine your craft.
From Chaos to Clarity
I’m proud of what Moore Acting Instinct has become. Based in Geelong, it’s not just an acting class. It’s a collaborative fire pit for performance growth — born from grassroots grit. From emergency teaching to international streaming to producing local films, this journey blends chaos with craft. The very skills developed inside of a loud classroom became the tools for building a quieter, more instinctive actor.
If you’re inspired by actors who take unconventional paths — good. That’s how we build real stakes in our work. And grounded, nimble performers who lead from truth, not technique.
“Begin where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.” – Arthur Ashe