I’m still surprised by how much I loved the Hear.Say Theater improv class I took this fall, especially since I almost quit before I even began.

Taking the Leap into Improv

When I told friends, “I’m taking an improv class,” their responses fell into two camps. One group lights up and says, “That sounds fun! Where are you taking it?” The other looks horrified and asks, “Why?” as if I’ve lost my mind.

I get it. When Chuck first pitched the idea, I couldn’t imagine why we’d subject ourselves to such a thing. I pictured a room full of people judging me, maybe even booing or throwing things. 

I’ve never taken an acting class or performed for a live audience. (Unless you count singing Silent Night during a Christmas pageant.) I hate being the center of attention, and my so-called “superpower” is absolutely not spontaneous humor. Plus, the class was from 7:00 to 9:30 on a school night, right when I should be winding down and getting ready for bed.

Chuck, on the other hand, was born for this kind of thing.

Learning to Play Again

So what actually happens in a 2½-hour improv class? Mostly, we play role-playing games. Completely sober. 

Yes, you read that right. No drinking beforehand. I was as surprised as you when I saw that rule in the class handbook. But now that I have the 101 class under my belt, I understand why. You need every brain cell firing. And building trust with your classmates requires you to be vulnerable and present. Neither goes well with alcohol.

Game Time

Each week, we learn something new. For instance, one week, we worked on character building. Our instructor, Ashley Davis, started by warning us about using accents to create a character and when it’s ok and when it’s not. No problem there—I’m terrible with accents. But I can do a mean eye roll. And I’m great at sarcasm. But accents, no, not my thing.

That night, we played a bunch of games, all designed to help us learn character-building. One of them was called something like, “I’d like you to meet my little friend.” Two people take the floor to improvise a scene—say, about a woolly caterpillar—while someone waits on the back line. After a bit, Ashley calls out a name. That person wraps up their scene, then says, “I’d like you to meet my little friend,” and introduces whoever’s waiting with a quick, funny prompt like “a sad Smurf” or “an ’80s rock star.” The new person jumps in and changes the scene using their new character.

My Accidental Debut as Pancho Villa

So there I was, waiting on the back line. Chuck and Braden were on the floor. Ashley called Chuck’s name. He turned toward me and said, “Meet my little friend, Pancho Villa.”

What? (I didn’t say that out loud, but I wanted to. I’m still wondering what was in his head.)

“Who is Pancho Villa?” I blurted instead. My helpful classmates called out, “Mexican revolutionary!” I nodded, pretending ignorance, but I already knew that. I was simply stalling for time, trying to figure out what on earth I was supposed to do with this.

I drew my imaginary six-shooters, pointed them at Chuck, and gave him a playful “pow, pow!” in appreciation for my introduction. Meanwhile, in my head, I could hear Speedy Gonzales shouting, “Andale! Andale! Arriba! Arriba!.” Which, obviously, I couldn’t say.

I sauntered over to Braden, still twirling my finger guns. He said, “I have got two cigarettes.” He gestured with his hands, offering me one. I holstered my guns and joined him in smoking our imaginary cigarettes. What happened after that is a blur, but everyone was laughing, and I did not die of embarrassment on the spot. Talk about character building.

The Unexpected Gifts of Improv

Besides pretending to be Pancho Villa, I didn’t expect to bond with my classmates. I thought we’d learn their names and exchange phone numbers. I didn’t think we would become friends—maybe because I’m old enough to be their mom. 

Did I get lucky finding this group of improv newbies who are incredibly smart, funny, and empathetic? You bet. What I know for certain is that my classmates are always quick to offer praise and compliments, boosting my improv newbie ego when I needed it most.  

On Tuesday nights, with my improv classmates, I get that electric feeling of connection I’ve missed since retiring. As we do our warm-up of Zip-Zap-Zop, my self-consciousness eases just a bit, and then, I’m playing silly games, being spontaneous, and pretending to be someone else. 

Our Improv Recital for Grown Ups

We talked early on during the eight-week class about our showcase. Think of your kids’ recital, but with alcohol. Ashley planned which games and skits we would play, and she cast us accordingly. Of course, we practiced, but until you step onto the stage and look into the spotlights, you cannot really be prepared. 

There was some joking before our showcase about us joining a cult. But now that we have joined this group of merry improv jokesters, we can never leave. The song Hotel California is playing in my head.

Taylor made us friendship bracelets. She is also our appointed group leader. Another sign that we have joined a cult.

Improv Meets Poetry Slam

My favorite skit of the night was “Poetry Slam.” We had played it several times in class, and Margaret and Chuck were cast for the showcase.

It is a comedic riff on the typical poetry slam, where a poet steps up to the mic and shares their prose. The improv twist is that the poet is from an imaginary place and does not speak English. Instead, they speak a completely made-up language. An interpreter stands beside them to translate the poem for the audience as it is being recited.

During our class showcase, Chuck played the poet, and our talented teammate Margaret played the interpreter. She kicked things off by welcoming everyone to the Hear.Say Poetry Slam and then introduced Chuck as a poet from somewhere like “Squishypantsmagord.” The audience selected the poem’s topic, which turned out to be the profession “lumberjack.”

Chuck will tell you, “I’m not kidding when I say that I love playing this game.” I am here to tell you, it shows. Chuck loves performing, and his stage antics blended Tai Chi and an excited Baptist minister, with exaggerated movements that vacillated between the two personas.

Margaret’s persona was that of an indulgent game show host, trying to maintain a serious expression while delivering an extremely funny interpretation of Chuck’s physical poetry. At one point, Chuck rattled off, “Erd da gurm. Squid plas da mirg. Fleb lum tum!” and Margaret calmly translated it with a simple, “Of course.” It was perfect.

I am pretty sure I heard people in the audience snort and hoot.

A Little Braver than Before

Looking back, I am amazed by how much this class stretched me and connected me with people I may never have met otherwise. I left each session feeling a little braver. It turns out that sometimes you do not discover confidence by staying in your comfort zone. Sometimes you find it by drawing your imaginary six-shooters, stepping into the scene, and saying yes to whatever comes next.

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