Inner Child Play
At last week’s Break the Rules improv drop-in, I witnessed some of the most playful, emotive, and captivating improv during an exercise I developed called “Childish Games,” where the improvisers were encouraged to play characters twelve and under.
In most of my improv training, playing as children characters has often been discouraged because “we can’t trust the information” that children provide. The honesty of children was put into question as they were categorized in the same lane as people under the influence and people with unstable mental health conditions.
This idealogy never really sat well with me, because as a former preschool teacher of almost twenty years, I witnessed firsthand that young children are some of the most honest people you’ll meet. Sometimes way too honest. I can’t count the number of times children told me that I was bald or that I had a soft tummy or that they were bored during an activity or so on and so on. Do young children lie? Sure. But so do adults. And more often than not, children are more concerned about calling out what they see around them. In the world of improv, we call this “labeling.”
Also, in the world of improv, we encourage players to heighten their character’s emotions. Again, who is more emotional than a child who’s mid-tantrum or one who’s excited to unwrap birthday presents or who is scared of the dark or who is frustrated at losing a game?
As I developed the Break the Rules lesson plan, I knew that playing children in scenes was going to be a fun exercise for the class. What I didn’t expect was the absolute joy that it was to see my students access their inner child and play out scenes that ran the spectrum from sweet and tender to outright hilarious. I could barely take notes during the three-person scenes because I was so enraptured by the transformative improv that was happening in front of me. Improvisers built solid scenes about children based on relationship, emotion, labeling, and all the tools that make an improv scene successful.
Almost immediately, plans of a Narrative show about children played by adults became crystal clear in my head because I was so inspired by the commitment to these untapped characters my students were displaying. It felt like the truest culmination of my role as an improv instructor and my past as a preschool teacher coming together to create a space where the freest form of improv I think I’ve ever witnessed could thrive.
I saw something unlock in each one of the students who got onto that playful stage. I saw them connect with their most playful selves, and it was beautiful. They became as inherently playful as the children they were paying homage to. And the scenes were GOOD. Like, top shelf good. The kind of good I wished I had recorded somehow to show off how talented these folks are.
It was magic. And I can’t wait to do it again!