On a frigid Friday morning, a massive snowball fight is taking place at PS 212 in Gravesend, Brooklyn. Theater teacher Beatriz Cordoba, her eyes sparkling with mischief, crouches down and then, with a yell, springs forward toward a trio of girls who are shrieking with delight.

The combatants are safely inside the auditorium, and the snowballs are pantomimed. But you’d never know it from the way the room full of kindergartners responds to Cordoba, who commands attention despite her petite frame. She quickly settles the giggling students by calmly encouraging them to “smell a rose” (breathe in) and “blow a candle” (breathe out).

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Jonathan Fickies

Cordoba, who has an MFA in theater directing and a teaching license in theater education, officially teaches theater. But with an eclectic background in art, dance, music, theater and stage combat, she combines all her expertise into a unique program she has dubbed “dramarts.”

“It’s one program with many faces,” she says.

Because PS 212 has no music or art teacher, Cordoba strives to fill all three roles. That means conducting dance warm-ups with her kindergarten students, staging musical theater productions with her 5th-graders, and designing sets and costumes for her shows with the help of artistic students in her 3rd- through 5th-grade art clubs.

It also means a complicated choreography of scheduling students and funding projects. But Cordoba and Josephine Marsella, the principal at PS 212, are adamant about finding ways to make it work.

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Jonathan Fickies

“You can’t forget about the arts,” Marsella says firmly. It was Marsella who encouraged Cordoba to accept a teaching position at the school 15 years ago, when Cordoba was then a parent volunteer who took charge of art projects at PS 212.

It isn’t easy. Recent funding cuts to arts programming, Cordoba says, have been “brutal.”

“Because we have to pay to license the productions, we didn’t know if we would have the funds for a show this year,” she says. “It broke my heart to tell the students we might not have one.”

Fortunately, thanks to a grant, the show will go on. It’s with a mixture of relief and anticipation that Cordoba eagerly tears into a package of materials for producing “101 Dalmatians,” nodding her head in rhythm to the soundtrack and murmuring to herself about how various numbers might be choreographed.

“I try very hard not to tell them what to do,” she explains of her directing style. “I try to make them think about how it should go.”

In Cordoba’s cluttered, cheerful classroom, it would be impossible to forget about the arts. Oversized posters from PS 212’s past theater productions — from “Rumpelstiltskin” to “Rats” — line the walls. On each side of a small stage lies a treasure trove of props, music stands, instruments and art supplies.

Just outside, a bright yellow bulletin board features photographs of students frozen in compelling poses. A neon pink sign invites passing student playwrights to write their own scenes based on the pictures.

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Jonathan Fickies

“She’s extremely creative, and she’s very passionate about her job,” notes Erica Brens, PS 212’s dance teacher, who works closely with Cordoba on the school’s musical theater productions. “She treats the students as professionals, even at a young age.”

Cordoba’s students begin playwriting in 3rd grade. By 5th grade, they are directing each other in acting scenes. Dozens of 4th- and 5th-graders audition each year for Cordoba’s Saturday theater classes. Last year, thanks to her coaching, PS 212 sent eight students to drama programs at magnet middle schools in the area.

“You have to find their niche,” observes Principal Marsella. “And she finds a lot of niches.”

That’s apparent as students bend over their sketches in Cordoba’s art club one morning, the room hushed except for the sound of pencils scratching on paper. They’re designing artistic interpretations of the word “peace” for a display in PS 212’s lobby.

One student has drawn a delicate flower springing out of the letter A; another depicts a dove swooping over the word. Cordoba circulates among them, raising her eyebrows appreciatively and gently correcting students who are overcomplicating their designs.

“[In art club,] we get to use our imagination,” enthuses 4th-grader Damian as he carefully fills in an intricate pattern. “We get to be ourselves and be free.”

Back in the auditorium, Cordoba bounces to the music, relaxed amid the cacophony of kindergartners.

“My students keep me sharp! Teaching,” she observes, “takes a special kind of energy.”