You know I'm always yammering on about labels in improv, right? Well, that's because if you and your scene partner(s) don't label yourselves and each other, you end up with a very vague, nebulous scene that just kinda happens. Some stuff happens, and some time passes and then, mercifully, it's over.
Guess what? If you don't label yourself in real life, you'll get the same result. Stuff will happen, time will pass and then, like it or not, it's all over. Even worse, if you don't label yourself in real life, others WILL - and then you will endeavor, perhaps subconsciously, perhaps consciously, to live up or down to their labels. In improv, it doesn't so much matter if you label yourself or if someone else does, as long as you are labeled and those labels build a character and a relationship.
In real life, IT FRIGGIN' MATTERS, PEOPLE. We get labeled the second we pop out of our mothers' nether regions... and our families, friends and societies keep heaping the labels on, fast and furious: pretty, smart, strong, ugly, lazy, dumb, shy, outgoing, mean, generous, rigid, hyper, boring, critical - UNTIL we take charge and label our own damn selves.
Maybe I WAS shy, or boring, or rigid. And maybe those behaviors served some purpose (even if that purpose was simply keeping peace with the parents or teachers who gave me those labels). But if they aren't serving me NOW, why the fuck should I cling to them? We hold on as if those labels are a life preserver, never realizing they're actually a big, useless anchor.
If no one had the power to tell you differently*, how would you label yourself? Who would you be, what would you do, who would you love, where would you go?
If you have trouble experiencing that much potential, try improv. It will help you get out of your comfort zone and be willing to take chances. It won't happen overnight, but it will happen. I promise.
*Oh, and guess what? No one does. You're welcome.
By Sonnjea Blackwell
