Last Saturday, I attended a couple improv comedy workshops at the Washington Improv Theater (WIT) in D.C. I signed up for a free intro workshop, as well as a public speaking workshop.
Being the very careful, reserved person that I am, I was pretty nervous about participating in the workshops. I didn’t want to look like a fool–especially in front of cool, young D.C. hipsters (of which the classes were filled). But I figured all of the students were in the same boat–and I would probably never see any of them again anyway. So I dove right in.
Rebecca–the instructor of the intro workshop–and her assistant were really quite wonderful. They were supportive, attentive, and entertaining. I never once got the feeling they weren’t enjoying themselves, or weren’t completely invested in the class and the students’ wellbeing. Their attitudes made the intro workshop an incredible amount of fun.
I got over my nervousness quickly, but had to fight another insecurity for the duration of the workshops. During the very first exercise, which was called the Name Game, we had to associate a physical action with our name. Rebecca started by crouching down and pounding the floor with both fists, as she said her name. We all repeated her actions in unison. When I crouched down, my recently purchased $200 jeans tore right along my crotch and backside. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to scream in mortification, as well as laugh at the absurdity of it all. I thought my day of improv was instantly over as soon as it began. How big was the tear? Did I have something else to wear? Would I have to go all the way back to South Riding, then return to D.C.? Thankfully, I stealthily checked several times and determined that–due to its location–the tear was actually unnoticeable. As long as I remained standing. Of course, after the name game was finished, the next exercise involved us sitting on the floor.
I somehow managed to retain my dignity throughout the first workshop and actually thought I did pretty awesome throughout the exercises. I found it to be much more fluent and natural than I had expected. The hardest exercise was Freeze Tag, which involved us acting out completely random skits, the subjects of which changed as people tagged others out and replaced them in the skit. I found myself stuttering and not knowing what to say most of the time. But it was the last exercise, so I kept tagging in and forcing myself to participate. It was true trial by fire, and I suddenly gained tons of respect for the teachers, who do this in front of live audiences every weekend.
After a very long, uneventful lunch break (which involved me sitting on the couch in the lobby for one hour), I attended the second workshop on public speaking. It was taught by Topher, whose demeanor and appearance were humorous and entertaining in and of themselves. He had a more serious, lethargic tone–which was a big change from Rebecca’s vibrancy and childlike enthusiasm.
Much of this second workshop simply involved speaking in front of the other six or so students. Sometimes we talked about ridiculous subjects as if we were serious experts; other times we had to literally speak gibberish. Because of the room’s heat, I kind of tuned out half way through. By the time we reached the final exercise, I wasn’t even listening to the instructions and completely spaced on what we were supposed to be doing (taking on the mannerisms of a fictitious character, or something). I was kind of glad it was over. I didn’t learn anything, but I did have a bit of fun. [I also met Jaime, who’s interested in photography, local rock bands and roller derby! What are the odds?]
Bottom line is that I now want to sign up for the 8-week intro class (Foundations of Improv), but I’ll have to wait until Rebecca’s teaching it again. She rocks.
