Improv, COVID-19, and Teaching

SARS-CoV-2 suck. It’s disrupted many parts of our daily lives and makes many things difficult. I want the world to go back to the way it was. I’m an extrovert and love being around people—hugging my friends, throwing dinner parties, and doing improv.

As a college teacher, it disrupted the spring semester in significant ways—and summer and fall. I had plenty of training to teach online prior to COVID-19 and plenty of practices with the unexpected being throwing my way. “Okay world. Challenge accepted. I’m going to murder hornet this,” is my motto. I’ve also decided that the phrase “kill it” can be replaced with “murder hornet it.” Enjoy.

The worst part about the spring semester was the impact on the students. I’m a rockstar both online and off, but the switch to remote wasn’t what students signed up for, and some students and faculty found it challenging. I think the quick switch to online in the spring hurt how students feel about remote or hybrid or fully online classes, but there is magic happening in the world of improv during COVID-19, and I believe we college professors can learn from it.

The improv communities I’ve been a part of have been welcoming and supportive. I haven’t always felt that way in academia, and I didn’t start off being as welcoming and supportive as I am now with students. I credit my mentors from when I was a teaching assistant, Dr. Dave Junker and Terry Hemeyer, and improv for making me a better teacher. I can’t fit everything into one blog about how improv made me better at teaching. You’ll have to read future posts, or, even better, take my online, level 1, improv class through BETA Theater. See for yourself why improv is fantastic for college professors.

Back to COVID-19, improv, and teaching. Prior to COVID-19, I was limited to in-person improv classes, where I was physically located. This was great when I lived in Austin, Texas. This was terrible when I lived in Buffalo, New York. It was good after I moved to the Houston area. Then COVID-19 hit about 8-9 months after I moved back to Texas. Switching jobs and being new to an area is hard. It’s hard to meet new people and make new friends. Somehow, being an adult makes this even harder. Now add social distancing and mostly staying inside. I felt better prepared because I work in academia, which can be isolating due to the nature of the work, but I need to be around people; it’s why I love teaching face-to-face in a classroom.

The social isolation was getting hard, and then I received an email from The Hideout Theater in Austin, Texas - $10 drop-in workshops. I took one. Then I looked up who else I could take classes or workshops with. I have been able to take classes/workshops at UCB (Upright Citizens Brigade – Amy Poehler is one of the founders), iO (no longer allowed to call it Improv Olympics because of copyright and many notable graduates went on to be famous on SNL), and Second City (Dan Aykroyd and Jim Belushi started here just to drop some names). iO has since gone under, and UCB has closed its NYC locations due to the pandemic. Three places I wouldn’t have been able to take the 1- or 2-week intensive courses at because I can’t afford to pay the tuition, travel to, and stay in NYC, LA, or Chicago for a couple of weeks to train at one of those locations. I would never have been able to take classes there, but now I have.

It has been magical. In a typical week, I am doing improv six days a week and sometimes twice a day. I’ve gotten more improv practice during the pandemic than I would have been able to under normal circumstances. I’m getting the reps in, getting coached, and getting a broad experience from many sources. I’m also getting to play with people from around the world, which wouldn’t have happened without COVID-19. Pre-pandemic, the local improv communities, have been safe, welcoming, supportive communities that I need in my life. Now I’m connected to a broader, global community of improv players, which have been equally safe, welcoming, and supportive. I’ve performed in Maestro shows, at The Hideout Theater in Austin, Texas, with people from around the world. I also auditioned a couple of days ago with The Global Improv Project, being led by Queen City Comedy out of Charlotte, North Carolina. I auditioned with people from Mexico, India, and Twain. I tear up just remembering how inspired and blessed I felt to be playing with such a diverse group of people. Magic.

There are challenges to be faced in the online, virtual improv space. It’s still being worked out, and part of the fun is when someone says, “hey, I want to try this thing. I have no idea if it will work, but let’s see what happens.” It’s hit or miss for the record, but it’s a valuable part of the learning process. Not everything we did in a face-to-face physical space works online. For one, it’s harder to do space work, which is the physical work improvisers do to build the world around them; it’s how we show the audience that we’re in a kitchen or riding in a car. Improv is all made up, right on the spot, from a suggestion from the audience, without props—we mime all the props we need. Space work can still be done, but it’s harder.

There are valuable improv games that can’t be played in Zoom. Making eye contact is an important level 1 practice to help build connection with your scene partner, work on being present in the moment, and staying actively engaged with the active going on. Zip, zap, zop is an excellent example of a game that works these skills but can’t be played online. There are ways to work on eye contact to connect with your scene partner and be engaged with their reactions through Zoom. Is it the same? No. We look to the past to repeat what works and avoid what doesn’t, but it almost never works because the world of today isn’t the world of yesterday. Just because something isn’t the same, doesn’t mean it’s not valuable. Improv has had to change for the online space, and I find those changes inspiring for both improv and teaching college.

I don’t believe we’re going back to “normal” anytime soon, and I don’t think we should ever go back to how everything was. I think this is challenging, but I also believe the best human innovation comes from massive disruption. I’m also an elder Millennial—the generation that caused massive disruption through innovation—who thinks Lyft, Airbnb, Instacart, Thinx, and social media have made the world better. I believe the terrible situation of COVID-19 is a chance for growth and hope. I hope colleges can find a way to adapt and grow during this time. I also think it will fall on the shoulders of faculty and staff to drive the changes needed for universities to survive. Just because remote or hybrid or blended classes aren’t the same doesn’t mean we can’t give students valuable learning experiences and teach them what they need to know. Those of us playing in the online improv space are still getting valuable skills, and we’re still learning the basics of improv—we’re also learning new things about the virtual improv space. If improv can find a way to navigate this space, then I can still teach my student what they need to know, but I must find a new way to do it. Honestly, this wasn’t on my to-do list, and I’m just as annoyed about it as the next person, but back to my motto of “Okay world. Challenge accepted. I’m going to murder hornet this.”

I hope that when it is safe to get back on a stage or go back to the classrooms that the innovations we learn during this pandemic stick around. I want to keep playing with people from around the world. I enjoy some of the extra insanity that Zoom improv brings. I want to learn new tactics for teaching and keep doing what I feel is my calling—help people find the way to where they need to be. To quote myself, “I must burn brightly and light the path for others. There is no other way for me to live.”