(Or: The Musings of a Partisan Improviser.)
(Look away if you’ve had quite enough.)
Ahem.
Tuesday’s election hit hard. I realize many Americans felt otherwise.
Amidst all the grief, the anger, the exhaustion, the recriminations and analysis, the distrust and the disgust, the bewilderment and resentment and disbelief and resignation, the celebrations, the contempt, and the deep, deep, deep, deep shame unleashed on Election Tuesday, I taught an improv class the following night.
While driving to class, I wondered if anyone would attend. An improv class at this particular moment felt frivolous. After all, we’ve collectively hurtled off a cliff, some jumping headlong, others wondering how to pull the rip cord.
And now we’re supposed to play Zip-Zap-Zop?
Katy, my friend who produced this improv class, sent out an email earlier in the day to see if anyone felt up to participating. “Please, please, please show up,” I muttered all afternoon. You see, I wanted to be with other people, other like-minded people who might be feeling the same cultural vertigo I felt.
Dennis drove to the class with me while I muttered away. He’s my home. It meant a lot to have him close while the world, once again, flipped on its axis.
“Why all the drama?” someone who doesn’t know Jim Robinson might ask. “Isn’t he simply swimming in the pulsing, grievance-fueled zeitgeist that is 2024?”
Perhaps. Some Americans–at least in my neighborhood–dove right into the moment, unfurling their enormous MAGA banners the second Harris conceded. Frat boys across the street from the University of St. Thomas–I taught there for over fifteen years–put on red-white-and-blue stovetop hats and got hammered in front of their squat version of Trump Tower. The Bros at the gym have been incongruously giddy.
To be fair, I displayed my Biden/Harris bumpersticker for weeks after the last election. Maybe it’s just a matter of scale.
Or maybe not.
In my head, November 5 put an end to something important: the possibility that our country could embrace decency. Through a stark, reductive lens, one campaign offered hope. One offered fear. Living in hope felt exhilarating. Maybe we could turn a page. Maybe we weren’t going back. Maybe there’s a place at the table for all Americans, as contentious and messy as the ensuing food fight would be.
But slogans are slogans and reality is, well, real. And complicated.
Still, on the dank evening after the election, in the A Space in NE Minneapolis, the entire class (!) gathered to finish a three-session improv class that had begun when it seemed–naively–that postcards and fundraisers and voter registration drives could root out the deep rot in our history.
A killjoy in the best of times, I started the class with a quote from Timothy Snyder’s “On Tyranny.” In order to undermine authoritarianism, Snyder suggests that we ought to:
Make eye contact and small talk. This is not just polite. It is part of being a citizen and a responsible member of society. It is also a way to stay in touch with your surroundings, break down social barriers, and understand whom you should and should not trust. If we enter a culture of denunciation, you will want to know the psychological landscape of your daily life.
Katy had (wisely) brought Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, so while the class looked at one another and nibbled I read a second prescription from Snyder:
Practice corporeal politics. Power wants your body softening in your chair and your emotions dissipating on the screen. Get outside. Put your body in unfamiliar places with unfamiliar people. Make new friends and march with them.
Thusly armed, we made Timothy Snyder proud by making eye contact and burning off the calories from Katy’s delicious Reese’s Cups. We listened to each other to create funny, exuberant, intelligent, ridiculous scenes.
How did this happen?
We acknowledged the moment with Yes, and….
We tried to let go of judgment.
We succeeded in making each other look as good as possible.
Get this: No one made fun of immigrants or disabled people. Or women. Or people of color or LGBTQ folks. Or libs or MAGA hats or rural Americans or coastal elites (hello). Or sissy boys (hi) or butch women.
No one used sexual assault survivors for a punchline.
No one mocked other citizens whose economic disenfranchisement drove them away from the Democrats (funny, funny). No one took on a snide hillbilly accent. No one called anybody stupid or denigrated anybody’s faith.
No one went for big yucks by insinuating that children aren’t safe around gay men, or that beta males deserve to have their heads bashed in with a hammer because, god help us, that’s hysterical.
We didn’t even make fun of Kamala Harris or Tim Walz or JD Vance.
Or Donald Trump.
My blood boils while I type this. Regarding authoritarian leaders, I paraphrase the wise among us and address our former- and upcoming-president:
We don’t need you. We need each other.
And what if someone had punched down in Wednesday night’s improv class?
What if someone–again, god help us–had said, for laughs, “your body, my choice”? What if someone had called a woman the b-word or the c-word? Or denigrated trans kids and their supportive families because that (bad) improviser’s religion requires them to ostracize those who haven’t earned the grace their faith controls?
What if a class member declared that being Black or female (or both) were just the set-up for some obscene joke?
As the instructor, I would have said, “No.”
As a human being, I would have said, “No.”
I trust that the class, in one voice, would have said, “No.”
But here we are.
Some of us are cheering this outcome. I say “us” intentionally. It’s the Us/Them lie that keeps getting us into this mess.
Still, I’m not going to say there are “very fine people on both sides.”
I’ll leave that to our President-elect, the one who cheered on the Neo-Nazis and the Klansmen and the White Nationalists in Charlottesville as they killed a counter-protestor.
Heather Heyer. That’s her name.
Our 45th and 47th president wants us to be afraid of each other. He wants us to make room for hate in our homeland and also in our hearts.
No.
In our improv class (and in the two other improv classes I’ve taught since the election), we won’t tolerate intolerance.
We won’t make room for hate.
In order to create a vital, respectful, courageous environment, we choose to elevate inclusive voices over exclusionary ones.
This has nothing to do with Republican/Democratic affiliation. We’re all capable of hate, and we’re all capable of being genuinely fine people.
Now, what?
A group of us met for breakfast at Cecil’s Deli in Saint Paul this morning (consider this a recommendation) to celebrate our Fall birthdays. Greta, a wonderful theater director/writer/actor/friend, asked the seven of us what we wanted for the upcoming year. A good question, since we cannot go back in time.
I’ll let these captioned graphics do the talking for me.
And…
Oh, I love this (courtesy of Ehime Ora: https://ehimeora.com/about):
Please comment if you’re so inclined.
I was at the improv class. And grateful to be there — it was absolutely the best place to be at the very best time!
We are all in this together!
So glad you were there. Love you–
Thanks Jim. I will say NO right alongside you, while I say yes. I took a screenshot of this: We don’t need you. We need each other. Been writing long letters to my daughter (Kate! My North Star!) and I will share those words with her.
I’m not sleeping very well.
With so much love,
Shanan
Shanan: Yes, very hard to sleep well. A crazy time. We need to find our way through this, yes? Much love–
Yes. Thank you, Jimmy.
You have presented a plan for living in these times, in a way that may, perhaps, help things be better for all in our country. Know one ever knows what the end will be, so I agree-all we can do is to live well, but that is a lot to ask right now, but you have shown that it is indeed the only task that can heal us and maybe, just maybe, it will heal our country. It’s the only path, so I will start walking. 🙂
Kelly: Such a trying time. I lead an improv class at a Methodist church on Tuesday. Many bereft elderly women and a few sheepish Republican men. We got along and managed to laugh a bit. Modest goals, but also a necessary break from the political madness that has descended on us. I don’t think we should ignore the hate at the heart of the MAGA movement (I find myself consumed with rage), but I suppose we need to temper the fury. Am so glad to have friends like you out there…
Well said Jim. I almost didn’t read it because I’ve already made up my mind to share love, and acceptance and peace wherever and whenever I can but I’m glad I did. You are such a clear and articulate writer and I really appreciate you and your voice. Love you.
Fran
Thanks, Fran. Hard to write (or think) about the anger in our politics without fueling the fire itself. Ahhh! Love to you and Tom. Hope to see you both around the holidays–Jim
Wonderful writing, Jim. More to the point— insightful and helpful thoughts well written. I found them to be quite up-lifting. I am thankful for your presence in this world and for the compassion, wisdom, and humor (a winning combination!) that you offer —- especially in these days when such qualities can seem in short supply.
Chris
Ah, Chris. I miss our discussions and your insights. Such a strange time. You up for a ramen meal? Would love to see you–Jim
That would be wonderful, Jim. I miss your company as well. And I’m always up for a good bowl of ramen!
Thanks Jim for a fascinating read – you really are a wise old owl – I’ll be honest, I’m commenting from a safe distance in the UK – but I’ve watched the last few weeks in American politics with great interest – Jim, I hope you and Dennis know me well enough that I try to love my fellow humans whatever their race or lifestyle – I truly believe that anything that adds to the total of human happiness can only be a good thing – That said – I absolutely understand why Trump won and I note that so many on the progressive left – whilst claiming MAGA has hate at its heart – then display their own hate filled rage at the idiocy of their fellow Americans – there’s no real difference – the truth is the Left moved to quickly for the majority of Americans – creating a culture that too many felt uncomfortable with – the road to fair and just society is won incrementally and this time round things have just been moving too quickly for too many – the challenge in the next four years is to understand how to bridge the gap between cultural progress and cultural realism
Thanks, Ken! Always good to see you here. While it pains me, I see your point about incrementalism (as an incrementalist in my personal life, I think I get it…it also explains why I’m invited to so few late-night parties). And, as someone who grew up in the conservative world (not even sure what that means anymore), I know how unhelpful raging at one another can be. Alas. For the most part, I’ve felt love and respect from people of all political persuasions here in the US. Essential to keep that in mind. I do think we can catch up with other progressive democracies in terms of human rights and dignity for all, though. It pains me deeply that Tr*mp understands how to manipulate our fears and delights in turning us against each other. We do need to learn how to listen (and also interrupt the sorrow). Would love to see you sometime! Pack your suspenders!
Literally any excuse for a Joni lyric 😂😂😂 – we need to keep being “Particles of change orbiting around the sun” – but maybe just taking it a bit slower – btw I do need one more Chinese meal with Jim and Dennis in this lifetime.
Thanks, Jim, for your wise thoughts and internet findings. (I’m guessing that’s where the images are from?). I feel your pain, though I have not yet embraced your sources of healing and perseverance. Every time I’ve started to recover, a new cabinet choice has been announced. I feel like I am living in a dystopian novel.
I will reread this for inspiration.
Pat! Yes, it’s dystopian. We’re heading into rehearsals for “Spiked!” See you once that’s under our belt. Jim
Thanks, Jim — a lot of emotions to navigate. I applaud you for trying not to sow more divisiveness while also acknowledging your own rage. I could easily rant here but won’t. I’m finding some comfort in crunching the numbers. It looks daunting when you see a sea of red on the archaic electoral map — you start to feel like 2/3 or more of the country must have voted for him. But the popular vote tells a different story: It appears that he garnered around 76.4M and Harris had nearly 74M, so about 50% vs 48% of votes. Not exactly a landslide. The sad footnote is that overall turnout was 5 million less than in 2020 (when Biden received more than 81M votes)…
Delta! It pains me that the numbers of voters went down (and, I’m sure, my stifled rage won’t be terribly healthy…but what to do at the moment?). Very glad to know there are folks like you in this world. Here’s to more gatherings where we can chip away at the divisions in this country (maybe “chip” is the wrong verb; I’m sure someone else can find a better one). Thanks for commenting; always a pleasure to see you–
Hi Jimmy,
I wish we could give each other an actual hug. I would hug you with all my might. That’s all. It feels like for people who think and feel and love like us, it’s the thing to do–to cling to each other the best we can.
So I’m hugging you in spirit, keeping my heart open and feeling the tears roll down my face. What you wrote was beautiful enough to take me back to my spiritual roots–back through what the Buddha said and Krishna said–all the way back to a simple request made on a literal or figurative cross: Father forgive them for they know not what they do (and say).
Scott–Thank you for this. Your words mean a lot to me. Such a strange time we’re in…makes sense to go back to the fundamentals. I hope our paths cross soon–Jimmy
I didn’t realize that my comments here would be public. It’s fine, but if I had known I wouldn’t have referred to a Higher Being capable of forgiving people for their wrongdoings in a gender specific way. So, please forgive the “Father” bullshit.
Nice
Thanks, Jatra. Been thinking of you.
Love this. Love you. Love Dennis. Love improv.
My therapist once said, “We don’t walk calmly into activism, we get pushed into it.”
My hope is that we all do what we can to keep our fellow humans safe.
❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
Love you, Julie. Dennis and I are here for you and yours, always.
Thank you, Jim — I love your processing. The idea of giving your pain a place to live that’s not inside your body — I need to ponder that. So insightful. I’m thinking of you and Dennis. Love, love, love ❤️🧡💛💙
Thanks, Ann. I love that quote, too. A painful time, no? Hope to see you soon–