The Year-Long Improv Class
In January 2020, a high school friend Josh and I got coffee, and I asked a terrifying question. “I just signed up for Improv class. I’m really, really nervous. What do I do?”
Improv was far outside my comfort zone. I painted theatrical sets throughout college, but only once showed up on stage. That one time was a Midnight Show, aptly named because for the most part, the audience came late at night after having had several drinks, and the show was short and extremely low stakes. Even with nothing to lose, it felt like all the lights were laser-focused just on me. In that show, I had a script, some choreography, and a dear friend Alice as the director. With improv class, I would have none of that.
Now sitting at coffee with Josh — whose improv shows I frequented — he shared a very simple tip.
“Aliya, if you go out on stage with your improv partner and start doing jumping jacks, there aren’t many options for what the other person does next. It is hard to build a story out of a big, dramatic action. But if you go out and just slightly bend your back or take on a new posture, your improv partner can do something creative too, and little by little, you can build the scene together.”
Our performance for Improv Level 1 at Village Theatre came on March 8, just as the world started to shut down because of COVID. I remember only the comradery of our improv class, the laughter we provoked from the audience, and getting to see friends and family who had braved our rookie naivete to join for the show anyways. It was a totally different experience of being on stage than my college Midnight attempt. I barely remember the lights and escaped stage fright. I was so excited for Improv Level 2.
Improv Level 2 never happened — and sadly, it probably won’t for another year yet to come.
But a few weeks later, grounded because of COVID, our team at Vot-ER began to re-imagine our work. As an organization at the crossroads of health and democracy, we needed to exist in 2020, and also, needed to transform what we offered. One option — the old Aliya — would have been to declare big moves that did not have a path of return. The other option — Improv Aliya — was to dream big while slightly altering our posture as an organization in ways that adapted to the dirt road on the winding journey up the 2020 mountain. I took the second road, and while my stomach churned at a number of points along the way, our team had a great year.
Sometimes what we do for fun becomes woven into what we do for work. Sometimes our feeling of being petrified makes way to growth and learning that build us anew. And sometimes an 8-week Improv class evolves into a full year’s adventure.
Improv has been my story of 2020. And in this year-long improv class, a fairly stubborn and insistent creature found new ways to build gently and slowly, to add ornaments and new posture to the scene along with the team around me. While I hope much of this year will soon be behind us, I plan to keep the improv spirit in hand as a lasting souvenir of 2020.