Clyde Thompson: “We don’t talk enough about how important it is to get a place to escape from adulthood”
When I began taking improv classes, it was the most fun I had every week. I had no idea that improv would become such a major part of my life—I just knew it was fun and I wanted to keep doing it. Everyone needs that: a thing that you just want to show up and keep doing even though you don’t know where it will lead, just because it feels good.
We don’t talk enough about how important it is to get a place to escape from adulthood for a few hours a week. I often find myself in high-risk and high-stress positions. From being a retired electronic warfare specialist turned cryptologic technician in the US Navy, to attending law school, to working on risk management for TSA, I have always known how important it is to have an escape from that stress, but sometimes that stress relief can manifest in ways that aren’t the healthiest. Improv gave me a place to cut loose and be silly; it gave me a community to collaborate with artistically and some of my newest, closest friends.
Almost every class I’ve taught at Project Create has ended with someone mentioning how stressful life had been at some point during the past eight weeks and how much they looked forward to forgetting about it during class for a few hours each week. These stories are actually what lead me to implementing my BS Box in each of my classes. The BS Box is an imaginary box that you can put anything inside, so you don’t have to keep it with you in class. It is safe in the Box.
I encourage everyone to try improv because there is something to get out of it for everyone. From becoming a better listener, to thinking and reacting authentically, to exploring the depth of your emotions. If you want to be more comfortable with public speaking or even pursue a career as an actor or comedian, improv has something to offer everyone. We all owe it to ourselves to try. I am continuously shocked at the ways that improv has impacted my life from the large to the mundane, I am a very different person that I was when I signed up for that level one class at Anacostia Arts Center.
In the very specific sense, it landed me my current job giving presentations on issues surrounding Forced Labor throughout the world. In improv, you have to have the confidence of the character you are playing on stage and when I go into meetings now, I remember my Level 2 and 3 instructor, Kelsey Peters, reminding me, “you know everything you know and your character knows everything they know.” It was one of those little improv moments that bleeds into reality because yes, I do know everything I know, so why am I in a meeting nervous about people who don’t know what I know? Only because they make more money than me? That doesn’t make my facts less important and I should be more confident about that.
How Improv Supports My Idenities as a Black Washingtonian and a Veteran
One of the reasons WIT is so important to me is because it have special programming for both of my shared identities. Being a Black Washingtonian and being a veteran are two things that fundamentally shape how I see the world. And I have always approached these classes differently.
At Project Create, I have met incredible people who live right in my community—people who are doing amazing things in Wards 7 and 8, many of whom may have never met without improv. From local standup comedians to DC pageant queens, WIT’s partnership with Project Create allows so many people to let go for a few hours and then get back to improving our communities, having refilled their cups (as we often say, “empty pots don’t pour”).
To continue that metaphor, the classes with the Armed Services Arts Partnership (ASAP) probably pour into me more than any others. As a disabled Vet, there are very few places where I can be around other Vets, but not think about the military. There is a shared experience and camaraderie that can only be understood by those who have served or by those who loved someone who has served; those classes are something that I look forward to the most.
These classes are the ones where I feel at home as much as the students. But are also where I am reminded of the risks that come with signing up for our nation’s volunteer military and how lucky I am to have come home from my military deployment relatively unscathed. Some students are dealing with PTSD, traumatic brain injuries (TBI), missing extremities, and injuries both seen and unseen, and instead of being “the injured hero,” for a few hours each week they are just themselves. Sometimes we have to adapt to a students needs. We need to remember that someone doesn’t speak English as a first language. We need to remember that one ear hears better than the other, so we try to let them stand on a certain side of the stage. We need to rememer how important object work is when you are waiting on a classmate with TBI to process their thoughts. It is a constant reminder to me that nothing can stop you from having a good time when people want to have a good time with you.
Why I Care About WIT
Having now been in the arts space for a few years, I can’t think of many organizations that are trying as hard as WIT to ensure that they are reaching out to the entire city and removing as many barriers to access as possible. When I was a budding comedian, I remember how difficult it was to find high quality arts opportunities in my neighborhood. The WIT community made me feel welcome and appreciated and continue to provide opportunities for people throughout the city. I cannot think of any organization that tries quite as hard to make inclusivity a guiding principle in their work.
WIT is a high quality arts organization, that’s great. DC is full of high quality arts organizations. What sets WIT apart, is that they are a shining example of what DC purports to be. Taking the extra steps to ensure that they engage those who are most likely to be overlooked by other high quality arts organizations.
One of the biggest barriers to art is access, especially at the introductory level. No one, minimally interested in art is going to drive across town or out of the city to learn the craft, but when you provide access to arts education right in someone’s local community, it changes the game of who art is for and who it can be done by. Every veteran has spent time around the scuttlebutt (Navy term for waterfountain) and done improv. They just didn’t call it that. Everyone East of the River has been to the barbershop and done improv. Every community has their gathering places to get together and make stuff up. For WIT to come to these communities and provide the chance for formal instruction is vital in spreading joy and building community.
What WIT provides is vital to building the type of DC that we claim to want to build—one where we can all gather on a common stage, from all walks of life, and make up a show on the spot. WIT is playing a vital function in creating the city that we all deserve to live in.
Clyde Thompson is a teacher, performer, and board member at Washington Improv Theater. Make a donation to the WIT Community Fund to support projects like our classes with Project Create and the Armed Services Arts Partnership.