By: Tam Nguyen, Staff Writer
I was always a wallflower growing up. I was uncomfortable in my skin and frightened of being the centre of attention. A teacher wanted me to read a paragraph out loud? Not happening. Friends invited me to join their dancing talent show? I’d be shivering and sweating just thinking about how I’d fail miserably and everyone would laugh at me. Even though I loved film, theater, acting, and music, I never tried to participate in any related events. I accepted that I was born to be in the background, and that there was nothing wrong with that. But deep down, I was scared of being judged.
Since I arrived in Vancouver, I wanted to change. I had a fresh start where I was a nobody in this city. I could be anything I wanted and be kept safe by anonymity. So, the first thing I did was look up improv workshops around the city, eventually finding Queerprov, an improv club for queer people.
I still remember my first time coming to these workshops — they really changed the way I perceived acting. It’s not about being in your head and thinking about yourself, it’s about looking at your scene partner and trying to get the most out of it. You look at their body language, you look at their facial expressions, and you try to react to that. You hear what they are about to say so you can respond back.
In this improv workshop, we learn alot about the concept of letting go. Letting go of your shyness, letting go of the need to be perfect, letting go of the fear of being judged, just letting go to start acting. We play games to warm up, and one of my favourites is “Yes, And!” In this game, participants walk around, mingling with each other and having fun. Then, when someone says, “Yes, and let’s be a robot” (for example), everyone needs to act like a robot.
By immersing myself in these improv experiences, I’ve become more adjusted to navigating this new city, and get less anxious when I need to present something. I’ve learned that humour is a great way to warm up the audience and make them open to what you’re about to say.
I also love stand-up comedy as a type of performance, as my experiences with it have made me a braver writer. When doing stand-up comedy, jokes get feedback immediately based on the reaction of the crowd. Their laughs, or lack of, will tell you if your joke lands. It has forced me to improve my joke writing skills and the exposure has helped me not take things personally. I allow myself to play more with words, my voice, the tone, and the topic I’m writing about.
The best thing I’ve gotten out of these experiences is realizing I can actually be a good performer. I can act, I can be funny, and I can make other people laugh. I’ve learned to enjoy the spotlight. It even makes me feel good about myself. I always thought I was born to stay out of the limelight, to be a background character or a support player. But through these experiences, I’ve realized I have much more potential than that. I’ve allowed myself to be brave and bold, and to dive head-first into the performing arts world.
If you share the same experience as me, I’d really encourage you to go and try an improv or stand-up comedy club, such as Blind Tiger Comedy and The Improv Centre. They’re places where you can feel safe being yourself, surrounded by good people who would be happy to help you embrace your weirdness.
