Picture this: In a vibrant seminar space at Farkas Hall, a group of ambitious Harvard students huddles around a whiteboard plastered with index cards, each one capturing a pivotal moment from a budding TV episode. At the center is senior Aiyanna Ojukwu, pitching her story about a high school graduate whose world unravels when a cherished family heirloom—a timepiece gifted by her parents—vanishes without a trace. It's a setup brimming with tension and possibility, and it perfectly illustrates how collaboration can turn a simple spark into a blazing narrative fire. But here's where it gets intriguing: Is creativity truly a solo endeavor, or does it flourish best when shared among a community?
Ojukwu dives into her vision, describing the heirloom as a mechanical watch that, if it falls out of sync, triggers dire consequences. Yet, she's open to tweaks, suggesting the object could be anything misplaceable that carries weight. Fellow senior Solomey Alemseged jumps in with a twist: 'What if it doesn't measure hours, but reveals something deeper?' Ojukwu nods enthusiastically, expanding on the idea. 'Perhaps it acts like a compass, pointing out how far off track you are,' she proposes. Senior Inseo Yeo refines it further: 'A moral compass, guiding your ethical choices.'
This back-and-forth exchange is the heartbeat of TDM 166H: TV Writers Room, a course where Harvard undergraduates take turns refining each other's projects in a supportive circle. And this is the part most people miss—the sheer joy of building stories as a team, rather than hoarding ideas in isolation.
Leading the charge is Associate Senior Lecturer Phillip Howze, a seasoned playwright and screenwriter who's helmed episodes for hits like Netflix's 'Mindhunter' and National Geographic's 'Genius: Aretha.' For three years, he's guided this advanced workshop in the Theater, Dance & Media program, emphasizing that TV scripting demands a distinct skill set compared to crafting plays or films. 'I'm naturally inquisitive, which has led me through diverse careers,' Howze shares. 'A TV writers' room thrives on blending a wide array of backgrounds, personal tales, beliefs, scholarly insights, and the many layers of your identity to co-create stories with others. Producing television is intensely cooperative, involving repeated risks of failure in an ongoing saga. It's akin to any artistic pursuit—you must train that collaborative muscle relentlessly.'
He reiterates this point for emphasis: 'A TV writers' room thrives on blending a wide array of backgrounds, personal tales, beliefs, scholarly insights, and the many layers of your identity to co-create stories with others.'
Howze, who doubles as a playwright and screenwriter, highlights the unique vibe of a TV writers' room: a fleeting gathering of minds convening daily to weave an evolving tale, unlike the self-contained arc of a movie. In real industry settings, he explains, the showrunner introduces a concept, followed by freewheeling brainstorming sessions known as 'blueskying.' Writers then polish the plot to fit episode structures. Howze's class, a weekly two-hour-and-45-minute session, replicates this 'bootcamp' experience.
Ojukwu, majoring in neuroscience alongside Art, Film & Visual Studies with a production focus, likens the process to a lively game of telephone. 'One person sparks an idea, the next builds on it, and the third amplifies it even more,' she says. 'While we've all done independent work, it's rewarding to think, 'My group contributed to this.' I enrolled because I was tired of the exhausting idea that being a 'great creator' means going it alone. Collaborating outside class has been far more fulfilling.'
She echoes this sentiment: 'I enrolled because I was tired of the exhausting idea that being a 'great creator' means going it alone.'
Sophomore Solomey Alemseged, studying history of science and Art, Film & Visual Studies, agrees wholeheartedly. 'This course champions teamwork in ways I've never encountered, yet it safeguards personal reflection and individuality. It ignites a real passion—everyone's eager to share and work together.'
Beyond class discussions, students produce original content weekly: scenes, character soliloquies, episode outlines, and quick pitches. They exchange pieces in sessions and revise them at home. Homework includes viewing series and crafting analyses, featuring works by women and creators of color, along with their inspirations. Think Issa Rae's web series 'The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl,' which blossomed into HBO's 'Insecure'; Phoebe Waller-Bridge's play 'Fleabag' and its BBC adaptation; and the 'Homecoming' podcast that became Julia Roberts' Amazon thriller.
Sharing creations can feel intimidating, but Howze urges students to present without caveats and embrace vulnerability—skills vital for professional rooms. 'The class inspires students that your personal journey and viewpoint aren't just assets for your stories; they could enrich projects by creators like Issa Rae or future collaborators,' he notes.
Senior Claire Liu, pursuing Theater, Dance & Media and economics, interned virtually in a writers' room for The CW's 'Nancy Drew.' 'I'm aiming for a career in entertainment as a writer, director, and performer, focusing on film and TV,' she says. 'I plan to keep pursuing this post-graduation.'
Howze invites industry pros as guests; recently, Monet Hurst-Mendoza, a writer-producer for NBC's 'Law & Order: SVU' (Seasons 21-24), observed students simulating rooms for Ojukwu's time-travel pilot and wilder concepts like a dream involving a Los Angeles cult and a dinosaur family dodging extinction.
Howze's ultimate goal? Students emerge with boosted confidence and resolve. 'By semester's end, I want them equipped for writers' rooms—or any group creative setting—with a blend of strong opinions and kindness. We nurture emerging talents while fostering responsible contributors to the arts world.'
But let's stir the pot a bit: Challenging the 'lone genius' trope in art sparks debate. Is individualism outdated, or does it still hold value in creative fields? And this is the part most people overlook—how pushing boundaries through shared voices might redefine storytelling norms. What do you think? Does collaboration outshine solo effort, or is there room for both? Do you side with Ojukwu's embrace of teamwork, or do you champion independent creativity? Share your views in the comments—I'm curious to hear your take!
