Benefits of taking an improv class

My heart sinks whenever someone says they're afraid of trying an improv class because they believe they aren't funny, or they're afraid they need to possess some level of performative ability or natural talent before giving it a go.

The truth is that being funny is one of the last reasons to take an improv class, and having any previous performative skills or natural talents is not required.

It's a real disservice that improv is marketed primarily to performers looking to enhance their comedy chops, or to corporations trying to build a more collaborative workforce. Because what I've gained through studying improv has nothing to do with being funnier or working better with a team.

What Improv Actually Taught Me

Improv taught me how to listen—not just hear words, but notice tone, hesitation, what's underneath what someone is saying.

It taught me how to stay present when I had no idea what was coming next. How to trust that something would emerge if I stopped trying to control it.

It taught me that mistakes aren't failures—they're information. That the goal isn't to "get it right," but to stay in relationship with what's happening.

And maybe most importantly, it taught me that I didn't have to be clever or polished or have the right answer to be valuable in a room. I just had to show up, pay attention, and respond.

Why I'm Telling You This

I'm not trying to convince you to take an improv class (though if you're curious, you should).

I'm telling you this because the things improv taught me are the same things I now hold space for in my work.

The ability to stay with uncertainty. To listen without agenda. To notice what's happening in real time and adjust. To trust the process even when it feels awkward or unclear.

That's not improv doctrine. That's what it means to be present with yourself and others.

And whether you learn that through improv, through coaching, through sound, or through something else entirely—it's worth learning.

If You're Curious

If the idea of improv feels interesting but intimidating, start with a drop-in class. No commitment. No performance pressure. Just an hour of play with a group of strangers who are probably just as nervous as you are.

You don't have to be funny. You don't have to be good. You just have to be willing to try something without knowing how it will turn out.

Which, incidentally, is also how you grow.